Edvard Lygre Møster
Most bands appreciate that it is on a stage before an appreciative audience where the magic really begins to happen. That’s most certainly the case for saxophonist Kjetil Møster, who having assembled an all-star cast from the cream of the Norwegian prog jazz scene, unleashes a series of fiery howling choruses and frantically tumultuous grooves over four incandescent tracks.
Thrillingly flailing somewhere between crunching hairy 70s rock and beatific Coltrane-like rapture, it has the kind of cranked-up heavy-duty impact most rock bands with a wall of Marshal amps can only yearn for. Peppered with eerie atmospherics, the music is anchored by the insistent Wetton-esque bass of Elephant 9’s Nikolai Eilertsen and the unstoppable barrage of Motorpsycho’s Kenneth Kapstad.
Composition Task #1 is a haunting, beautiful tenor sax solo whose nimbly etched golden tracery falls upon an amorphous canvas of dreamy reverb. Elsewhere, Møster’s roaring baritone snarls belligerently, recalling Van der Graff Generator’s mournful windswept textures and the brusque hurtling thud of Morphine’s Dana Colley. With Supersilent’s Ståle Storløkken’s distorted keyboards adding a pungent lead foil, the phrase “white-knuckle ride” might’ve been invented for this album in general and the epic album-closer, The Boat in particular.