Stanko listens more than he plays, letting silence shape every note.
Tomasz Stanko made Soul of Things (1967) during a pivotal moment when he was establishing himself beyond the Eastern European jazz scene. This is a record that rewards patience. Stanko's trumpet doesn't announce itself—it emerges, hesitates, recedes. He's working with a small ensemble that includes Asgeir Sveeinsson on organ, and what makes this session distinctive is how restrained everyone sounds. The organ could easily overwhelm, but Sveeinsson plays almost like a colorist, adding texture rather than pushing things forward.
The album sits somewhere between introspection and restraint. These aren't the fiery, bebop-influenced solos you might expect from a jazz trumpeter of that era. Instead, Stanko seems interested in what happens in the spaces between phrases. Tracks like the title cut showcase his ability to hold a single note and let it breathe, to build mood through silence as much as sound. This approach can feel sparse to listeners expecting more action, but there's real compositional thinking happening. He's not trying to dazzle you.
Within Stanko's broader catalog, Soul of Things represents early work where he was still finding his voice, not yet the mature artist of his most celebrated recordings. It's worth hearing for anyone serious about Stanko, but it's not the place to start—try Astigmatic (1965) first for a clearer picture of what he was becoming. Soul of Things is more experimental, sometimes beautiful, occasionally frustrating in its refusal to settle into a groove. It's the sound of a musician thinking out loud.