Liv Andrea Hauge Trio – Døgnville

Hubro

Liv Andrea Hauge‘s trio has quite the work ethic, with this being their third album in as many years. Døgnville is a Norwegian term that is loosely translated as disorientation, and as Liv was bedridden with a fever, some of these songs were conceived in a semi-coherent state while others are road songs, emerging during the 2024 tour.

This curious mix of circumstances gives the album a sense of sense of statelessness; a sense that things could go in any direction, Liv’s playful and ever-elegant piano either shadowed or mobbed by the scattered percussion of August Glännestrand and the warm languid bass of Georgia Wartel Collins.

Having been together since 2022 and seemingly having spent a lot of that tine on the road or in studios, the rhythm section knows exactly what is needed by each of the capricious pieces presented. Although the songs emanate from Liv’s psyche, they are stretched into shape in the studio in a collaborative process with that sense of democracy pervading the album, the decision-making process being undertaken by all three for what is best for the songs.

The chuckling piano of opener “Strir” is filed with wistful melancholy yet has a spritely tempo. The drums are a distant rumble with the bass dancing on the wake of the piano. The power picks up as they progress, drums underscoring the coastline tangents, but eventually returning to the path once the adventure of a detour is explored. The piano melody is a thing of wonder and it is often the case throughout the album that something in the phrasing just briefly takes your breath away as the rhythm section ushers things onward.

The piano often seems to canter unmoored as on “Natt Natt Natt”, the song swept downhill, nimble fingers shadowed by a bass that seems to gulp in the fresh air as drums snap at their heels. In other places, as in “Vi Er”, the pace is slow and mournful, the cymbals evoking an early morning frost-laden landscape, tempo just enough as we watch the ice crystals slowly melt in the low rising sun. The deft use of percussion and the soft sob of bass are just enough to garnish the piano.

An unusual on-off tempo that seems to run from waltz to march and from movement to stasis infects “Karja”, while “Sval” is delightfully downbeat, its spark of romance evoking melodies of old that hover just out of reach. It tickles something in the memory and then moves on, the added bows of textural percussion accompanying rather then driving as the bass squeals in agreement. “Rukla” is peerlessly cheerful, while “Mange Av Voss” has that feeling of being warm at winter, tucked up indoors while storms rage outside.

Towards the end of the album I am sure Liv’s voice is pressed into action and it comes across as if the sheer joy of playing these pieces has caused an involuntary outburst and it is a lovely accompaniment, the wordless tones warming the soul. In fact, the whole album is heart-warming; there is something in the joy of the players and the way the album progresses through different moods that engages the listener. It feels like a natural progression from Ville Blomster and a delight from start to finish.

-Mr Olivetti-