Jacob Young: Eventually (ECM 2764)

Jacob Young guitar
Mats Eilertsen double bass
Audun Kleive drums
Recorded May 2021 at Klokkereint Studio, Gjøvik
Engineer: Sven Andréen
Mixed by Audun Kleive and Sven Andréen
Design: Sascha Kleis
An ECM Production
Release date: May 12, 2023

Eventually is the fourth leader date from Norwegian guitarist Jacob Young, but his first trio outing. Alongside bassist Mats Eilertsen and drummer Audun Kleive, he traverses a set of nine original tunes that are as varied in dynamic and scope as they are cohesive in temperament. 

The title track opens with arpeggios and impressions, broadening into a shoreline of shifting sands. Even with this precedent in place, one honed by the individual band members’ century of musical cross-examinations between them, there is room for incisive melodizing and fresh runs across familiar terrain. A case in point is “I Told You In October,” which goes down warmly while awaiting whatever surprises the next sunrise has in store. Eilertsen flirts with blues in his solo while keeping things forthright and pure.

Continuing in that spirit, “Moon Over Meno” manages to simultaneously feel like family but also a new acquaintance. Young takes brief yet surprising turns, thinking out loud in an unpretentious display of honesty and vulnerability. Despite his trepidations with the trio format going into this project, he proves himself well-attuned to its challenges, ever buoyed by musicians anticipating his every move. With the gentlest of frictions, he brings forth small flames of beauty in his chord voicings. In that light are rendered shadow plays of quiet intensity (“One For Louis”), urban sprawl (“Schönstedtstraße,” a head-nodding standout for its spacy overdubs), and somber travels (“Northbound”). 

“The Dog Ate My Homework” is a treat not only for its tongue-in-cheek title but also for the interlock of its development. Kleive keeps just enough fuel in the tank to get us where we need to go, while Eilertsen facilitates the combustion to let Young fly. After lovingly schooling us on “The Meaning Of Joy,” we end up “Inside,” where circling motifs knit scarves against the cold from the air so we might survive the winter without fear.

As the band hangs one masterful painting after another in this intimate gallery, the core strength of the proceedings lies in Young’s composing and the depth of expression giving them life. Like a lighthouse revolving in the night, his sound embodies a place to return to and a function to serve, bringing safety to those caught in the fog of dangerous waters.

Hacivat: A Ray of Light in the Forest

Without knowing how or when I got here, I find myself walking through the trees at sunrise. Having no compass but the tingling sensations in my feet and a gentle tugging of the heart, I follow a call of the spirit to places unknown yet somehow familiar. Were I to cull enough energy from these surroundings to bottle the light peeking through the canopy, it might look (and smell) like Hacivat, a Chypre fragrance from the Turkish house of Nishane.

At first spritz, it slices thickly into top notes of bergamot, pineapple, and grapefruit. Although this embrace of citrus sweetness is juicy and sensual, it is far from hedonistic. Rather, it practices restraint to appreciate its surroundings without getting distracted by them—not blind romanticism but a blush of self-awareness and faith in boundaries. In this kiss, there is no hidden agenda. It is naked without being profane, vulnerable without being weak.

With a fuller spray and time to develop this newfound relationship, heart notes of jasmine, patchouli, and cedarwood emerge as woodland creatures from their dens. Here, the warmth comes through, poised as if on the brink of a newfound love. The colors shift in the manner of a shadow play, each figure expressing more than the sum of its parts in a parable of mischief. In the absence of water, it drinks in the promise of another day.

As the journey continues, base notes of clearwood, oakmoss, and dry timberwood remind me that no matter how far I may travel, home is never far away as long as I have my body. Even in the face of deterioration, it whispers of the future.

Nearly 12 hours later, despite finding those comforts where I’ve staked my life, traces linger in whiffs of timber, ancient and covert.

This is reality, condensed and extracted.