Keith Jarrett/Gary Peacock/Paul Motian
The Old Country

Keith Jarrett piano
Gary Peacock double bass
Paul Motian drums
Recorded September 16, 1992
at the Deer Head Inn
Engineer: Kent Heckman
Design: Sascha Kleis
Produced by Bill Goodwin
An ECM Production
Release date: November 8, 2024

On September 16, 1992, pianist Keith Jarrett, bassist Gary Peacock, and drummer Paul Motian graced the humble setting of the Deer Head Inn, yielding an eponymous recording that stands as a beacon in the ECM catalog writ large. Nestled in the Pocono Mountains, the venue is one of the oldest for jazz in the US, having served as a stage for live music for over seven decades. As the story goes, Jarrett gave his first performance as trio leader there in 1961 at the age of 16 and returned for this performance to commemorate the ownership’s love for genuine music making. But this was another first, as it was the only time this group was ever billed as such (although Motian had, of course, played in the pianist’s “American Quartet”). Looking back on this landmark achievement, Jarrett and producer Manfred Eicher decided to release the rest of the recording, thus giving us The Old Country.

The title track by Nat Adderley is as good a place as any to begin our walkthrough, though one could start from anywhere and feel immersed in the inimitable vibe of that special evening a third of a century ago. The band never misses a lick, Jarrett treating every improvisatory message as the seed of a new tree. The “Autumn Leaves”-esque chord progressions only underscore that metaphor. “Someday My Prince Will Come” is another head nodder. As the doyenne of sorts in his American Songbook repertoire, one from which he recedes in the present treatment sooner rather than later to give Peacock the floor, it takes on a spirit of revival.

Engaging as such turns are, it’s in the slower numbers, like the Gershwin gem “How Long Has This Been Going On” and the Jule Styne standard “I Fall In Love Too Easily,” where we get glimpses of a particular beauty that might never grace a stage again. (They are also where Motian’s colorations are most vivid.) The latter tune is a heated blanket for the soul and feels custom-built for the musicians. Just as profound as Jarrett’s unfolding of every origami motif are the pauses between them. In each, where he may or may not cry ecstatically, it’s as if he were inhaling the Milky Way before exhaling starlight for all whose paths have gone dark. Peacock’s solo is a silhouette staring through a curtain for a lover who will never appear.

Further delicacies await in Thelonious Monk’s “Straight No Chaser,” the joy of which is so effortless that it might as well be a language with its own dictionary. Jarrett’s vocalizing cuts to the quick of the melody, giving us insight into his precognitive abilities at the keyboard. The dissonant touches are superb, and the rhythm section swings a full 360 degrees from start to spirited finish. Speaking of spirited, the piano intro to Cole Porter’s “All Of You” blossoms with metaphysical detail. The resulting groove is tempered by restraint—likewise in Victor Young’s “Golden Earrings,” which is as delicate as a bubble but strong as iron. Motian carries the bulk of this atmosphere with his brushes, while Jarrett manages to be ever one step ahead yet locked into place.

None of this would feel quite so complete with the album’s opening, “Everything I Love.” This little piece of magic from Cole Porter gives us that familiar blush of establishment such as only Jarrett can render, a chord progression that reminds us of where we belong. The sentiment is as much alive today as it was then. Your heart has already heard it. Now, it’s time for your ears to catch up.