Steve Wyzard COMEBACK OR FINAL THOUGHTS?

For those of us who can never get enough of albums like What Comes After, Odyssey, and Chaser, this album came as a HUGE surprise. For the past 20 years, Terje Rypdal has entirely devoted himself to classical composition and experimental collaborations, as opposed to the fusion performances that saddled him with the sobriquet, "the Jimi Hendrix of Norway". Without warning, we are suddenly graced with a retro/throwback album called Conspiracy.

With Stale Storlokken on keyboards, Endre Hareide Hallre on basses, and Pal Thowsen on drums/percussion, Rypdal's worldwide fan-base can be forgiven for thinking this is an outtakes album from the late-1970s or early-1980s. All of the classic trademarks are here: the soaring, ascending, infinitely-sustained guitar tones, dreamy pre-digital organ textures, busy bass/drums, thunderous dirges, and a general howling, wind-driven sub-Arctic atmosphere.

Composed entirely by Rypdal, he never dominates the material and everybody receives a chance to show their stuff. Three tracks in particular deserve comment. "By His Lonesome" is an ethereal backdrop for a Hallre bass solo: Rypdal doesn't even enter until almost the 2-minute mark. "Baby Beautiful" (the longest track at 8:01) opens with tinkling tuned percussion before Thowsen (who longtime ECM listeners will remember from Arild Andersen's quartet in the 1970s) sets up a rhythmic pattern for the solos to follow. The album closer "Dawn" begins with a very low rumble, as if a huge double bass section is playing in the distance, before dissolving into guitar effects and then vanishing.

Recorded in Oslo in February 2019, the immediate initial reaction to Conspiracy regards its length: 35:04. We've come a long way from the mid-1990s where everybody felt it was obligatory to issue 65-minute albums. Now that the LP has returned to the mainstream, shorter albums are once again back in fashion, but at what cost? Rypdal is now in his 70s: the cynical are likely to dismiss this as just a cash-grab to help with inevitable healthcare costs. Some would suggest this is an exercise in nostalgia, perhaps an aural last-will-and-testament. When there is such a deep, accessible back-catalog (even tribute albums), one might be tempted to say, "Not bad, just not much." Conspiracy neither greatly adds to nor subtracts from Rypdal's recorded legacy, but is rather an excellent quick reminder of just what he did so uniquely well.

Steve Wyzard HIS BEST ALBUM OF THE 1980's

Many longtime Rypdal listeners pour contempt on his work from the 1980s, preferring instead to bow and worship before the altar of his 1970s albums. To this day, recordings such as What Comes After, Whenever I seem to be Far Away, Odyssey, Waves, and even After the Rain (a far inferior album) have passionately devoted cult followings. For 1985's Chaser, Rypdal opts for a simple power trio, with relatively little keyboards and no brass, woodwinds, or string orchestras. Bassist Bjorn Kjellemyr and drummer Auden Kleive would also accompany Rypdal on his next few albums, but none would have the fire, the intensity, the imagination, or the radical mood-swings of Chaser.

How can any Rypdal fan not be utterly floored by his howling, ferocious solo over a Kleive drum intro on "Ambiguity", one of his greatest recorded moments ever? Said solo suddenly staggers into rhythmic anthem rock just past the 3:10 mark before the original mood is finally resumed at the end. Turn it up to 20! Rypdal's furious, both-blues-and-jazz-influenced soloing has never been better heard or recorded. For further proof, listen to the wandering fluidity/rhythmic riffing of "Geysir" or the angular, frenzied, pseudo-soundtrack work of "Chaser".

What may rub some listeners the wrong way are the dramatic, atmospheric changes-of-pace inserted between the fiery improvising and faster-paced numbers. "Once upon a time", "A Closer Look", and "Ornen" all follow a similar pattern: slow, smoldering blues compositions that build to a guitar climax with much space for Kjellemyr and Kleive to add subtle, introspective solos. "Transition" is a brief guitar-over-keyboards piece, and "Imagi (Theme)" bids this world farewell-before-departure with tuned percussion and long-sustained tones that sound very close to guitar synth (which they very well may be, although the credits do not mention any guitar synth). In fact, this track points ahead to Rypdal's next album, 1987's Blue, which featured the same line-up but with more experimental gadgets, more keyboards, and is a much shorter and less memorable album than the austere-but-streamlined Chaser.

Many have suggested (or outright proclaimed) that Terje Rypdal is Norway's answer to Jimi Hendrix, Bill Frisell, or Steve Howe, when in actuality he is truly a category all to himself. While definitely an acquired taste, Chaser is his best album of the decade and one of his best ever. It is not a jazz album, a headbanging album, a blues album, or an experimental album, but a world of its own. Previous experience with Rypdal's playing is recommended but not necessary. I remain at a loss to understand why this set has been so maligned over the years. Maybe the backlash has more to do with the very un-ECM album cover rather than the brilliant playing and performances.

snobb Beginning in 1971, Norwegian guitarist, Terje Rypdal, became one of the most respected ECM label artists with a big collection of good and even great albums. Being an experimental musician by nature, his output spans jazz-rock,as well as classic and modern eclectic fusion. Probably in Terje's case, four decades of collaboration with ECM was a positive factor - he stayed as one of the label's few artists with a very personal musical face, and at the same time got wide distribution and support from the established music company.

Besides Rypdal's ECM history, there exists a much smaller, but interesting collection of his releases on other labels. His most interesting releases are his albums from the late 60s and very early 70s. His debut, "Bleak House", (on Norwegian Polydor) was re-released many times (on vinyl and CD) around Europe and Japan and is quite well known. His second release (on the same label), "Min Bul", came out in 1970 and stayed in the shade till now. Actually it was re-released (for the first time) in 2003 by EmArcy in Europe on CD (the other reissue is Norwegian collectible vinyl on Panorama,2008) but still, many of Rypdal's fans don't know this album even exists.

It's a pity, "Min Bul" is a highly experimental work for its time. On this album, a Norwegian guitar-bass-drums trio lead by Terje plays electric, often scratchy and even noisy fusion on the edge of avant garde jazz. The nearest work to compare to is probably Miles Davis' "A Tribute to Jack Johnson" , but it was released a year later! On the other hand, the same label (Polydor) released albums of similar concept that same year, (Jack Bruce "Things We Like" with John McLaughlin, Dick Heckstall-Smith and Jon Hiseman), but Terje's work is much more experimental and mature.

This album's opener, "I Cried A Million Tears Last Night", is one of the very early prototypes of NY downtown noisy guitar avant-garde that would be coming many years later. Probably nowadays, listeners might find some of the album's moments a bit dated, but it is undoubtedly a valuable historical release.

Sean Trane Terje’s continuing adventures with ECM were beginning to transform in a love affair, to the point that Manfred allowed Rypdal to release a double disc affair, which I believe in 75 was the label’s first. This album features the usual “Rypdal Norwegian Whale-fishing crew” suspects, despite the strange choice of a trombonist as the unique horn player, outside of the master’s own sax twiddlings. Apparently the remaster of this album lists also a French horn player as well, and this could be explained that he only appeared on side 4 of the album, which is not on the first CD reissue. Oh BTW, the album’s name has nothing to do with mythology, so if you’re into concept album, you’ll be disappointed.

Anyway, we’re facing a relatively quiet album, with plenty of atmospheric moments, most of it created by Blix’s organ (no other Kb played), but also Terje’s strident and aerial guitar wails. Indeed, by the time of this album’s release, Terje was fine-tuning his typical guitar style (well somewhere between Oldfield and Hackett), and he’ll have plenty of time to achieve it over the course of these two discs. Lengthy and gliding tracks like Midnite, Adagio, Fare Well are just excuses to allow Terje to wail, soar, reign, dominate his team-mates heads and shoulders. Actually, when not on his guitar, Rypda is laying out some synth layers from his String Ensemble rig, but he’s not a Tangerine Dream member, and there are way too many useless meanders and other lengths (thinking of Adagio amongst other), and the whole thing is uneventful. One could call this album “new age” if the term had been coined much sooner, so I suppose that many described it as cosmic or spacey, which I think might be a tad misleading, partly because of Rypdal’s guitar sometimes leaving its annoying aerial wails to come down and growl a bit in the lower registers, like in my album-fave Better Off Without You, and Birkerot, where he really unleashes. Fare Well is actually quite annoying, because Terje’s strident guitars are really aggravating and irritating to my left ear, and switching channel speakers won’t help, because after two minutes, the right ear is sore. Ballade is self-explanatory and boring except maybe for Terje’s guitar growls when it doesn’t soar searingly.

A rare double ECM album, but given the result, no wonder Manfred didn’t release that many more and its CD reissue has been shortened by the D-sidelong Rolling Stone track; which by its name, might have been the rockier or energetic track of the album. Never heard it, though. This is the kind of ECM album that you can feel glad it has an end and relief comes once it stops spinning or by pushing the eject button. Definitely not my cup of tea, outside two or three (shorter) tracks.

Sean Trane I’m not sure whether this is Rypdal’s second or third ECM album, but it’s one of the rockier ones, despite its schizophrenic nature. With its polar cap ice debacle artwork, this album features some of Terje’s best musical buddies, and it was recorded in Oslo in 74. On the present, Rypdal concentrates on the guitar (no kb or horns), which allows his compadres to fully develop their roles.

Opening on the energetic 14-mins Silver Bird, Rypdal’s guitar takes on an early Coryell-feel, and it grabs the JR/F fans by the guts, as we’re hoping for McLaughlin-like fireworks, which somewhat unfortunately won’t happen, because the song doesn’t allow it. Progheads will be pleased to hear some gorgeous washes of mellotron that add a bit of tension and drama. Excellent stuff, with Hovensjo’s bass playing adding much interest to the calmer moments. The following Hunt piece features the same line-up, with a rhythmic intro at first, and then a brooding mellotron underlining Terje’s excellent guitar parts. More great stuff.

On the flipside, the sidelong title track features some string musicians from a local symphonic orchestra, and the subtitle indicates well its content: guitar, string, oboe and clarinet. Hovering between Russian composers and symphonico-ambient music (future “new age”), the track meanders too much and too long, before taking off of to the skies. In some ways, this track announces the lengthy voids of his next album Odyssey, with his searing and soaring guitar that will be reminiscent to Steve Hackett fans; but the orchestral arrangements are an asset that the next venture won’t have. Fairly cheesy, but impressive nonetheless.

Well despite two vastly different vinyl facets, the A-side is sufficiently strong enough to gather my favours and the symphonic side is impressive enough to let me enter the album in my all-time top 10 ECM releases.