Melodies That Just Sit There
Mathias Eick plays trumpet like he's not trying to impress anyone, which is exactly why people get impressed. No flurries of notes, no cutting contests. He finds a melody, often a simple one, and lets it breathe over a bed of vibraphone, guitar, and drums that feels more like a rock band than a jazz quartet. That's not an accident — before ECM picked him up, he was deep in Oslo's crossover scene, playing with groups like Jaga Jazzist (2001) where genre lines between jazz, rock, and electronica basically didn't exist.
His ECM records are the place to start. The Door (2008) introduced the formula: trumpet melodies that feel folk-like in their directness, laid over hypnotic, almost motorik rhythms. Skala (2011) pushed it further, adding strings and a kind of widescreen, cinematic quality — you could put it on a soundtrack and nobody would blink. By Midwest (2015), recorded partly with American musicians and named for his time living in the States, the melodies got even more open-hearted, almost unguarded. It's music that wears its emotion on its sleeve, which in jazz circles can be a controversial move, but Eick never seems bothered by that.
What makes him interesting isn't technical daring — he's not out there rewriting the vocabulary of the trumpet. It's the composing. He thinks like a songwriter who happens to improvise, building tracks around a hook and trusting the band to color around it rather than solo over it. He also plays double bass on some of his own records, which tells you something: he's thinking about the whole architecture of a piece, not just his own instrument's role in it.
If you've heard Arve Henriksen or Nils Petter Molvær and liked the way Norwegian trumpet players use space and electronics to build mood, Eick is a logical next stop, though he leans more acoustic and melodic than either of them. He's not trying to be the most adventurous player on the ECM roster. He's trying to write tunes that stick, and on his better records, they do.