You are on a long journey, through fields, plains and mountains. You come to a small rural village, tired and thirsty. You find the local inn, a brown wooden cabin. The innkeeper serves you a hot drink in the dimly lit cabin, only lit by the fireplace in the corner. It doesn’t taste like anything you have ever tasted. A small group of people sit in front of the fireplace, with instruments you barely recognize. You sit down, and they start playing, and you listen.

The albums opens with some of the most sour flute I’ve heard to date and I start to wonder what I have gotten myself into. However, the album does not stop there; it gets increasingly more off. An organic soundscape develops, hinting to folk roots, drone. It is meandering, wandering, seeking music, more a dialogue than a journey with a fixed destination. But that doesn’t mean its aimless, because there is direction. The album ventures gradually more into electroacoustic, obviously not relying only on acoustic instruments to paint a sonic picture that does not sound entirely like anything I’ve heard before.

Roxane Métayer is a multidisciplinary artist, violinist and composer, and her latest album is a demanding solo effort, both for musician and listener. You don’t have to be a jazz journalist to understand that this is more experimental, ambient and electroacoustic than jazz. So overall an interesting album, but you either willingly seek it out or stumble over it in your journey and say to yourself «huh?».

Chris Risvik

Roxane Métayer (all instruments)