038: Souvenance, by Anouar Brahem

Anouar Brahem (Tunisia)
Souvenance (2015)
11 tracks, 89 minutes (2CD)
Spotify · iTunes

This is the first time on this blog that I’m featuring an album that I’ve previously reviewed. I reckoned it would be interesting to compare how I felt about the album after just one or two listens with how I feel now, often a few years later. I’ll try not to repeat myself too much, I’d like these to work more in conjunction with my previous work than to trump them.

I reviewed this one back in 2015 for fRoots Magazine – you can read that one over on my other blog. I remember at the time, this album came to me after a long run of various Arabic jazz albums. Some were good, some less so, but I definitely needed a break, so I ended up putting this one off for a while; North African oud in a jazz style? Heard it, mate. But the fact that this was an ECM record should have let me know that this was going to have a special something to it. In fact, I would hesitate to say whether ‘jazz’ would even be an accurate descriptor.

In the endless debate over the proper way to call, talk about and define ‘classical music,’ a term that often crops up is ‘serious music.’ It’s not really the best suggestion, because there are so many examples on the contrary, but it most definitely fits this album. It is straight-faced art of the highest order. Souvenance is a work that demands to be at the centre of your attention; stick it on in the background and it may just sound wishy-washy and without any real movement. But it’s all there for the focused ear.

There are lots of gentle timbres over this album – oud, piano, bass, bass clarinet and string orchestra – but like waves, there is an immense power behind the gentle stirrings that occasionally break dramatically before returning to its previous calm, as themes return or overlap, or fade and morph into something not-quite recognisable. The Western classical instrumentation and compositional style gives the album its overall sound, but it is informed by the Arabic, North African and jazz of its composer’s roots, providing a similarly oceanic depth to the work. Enjoy this album in solemnity and wonder at its immensity.

For the London-based of you, Anouar Brahem will be playing at the Barbican on the 15th March. It’ll probably be a bit more jazzy than this album, as he’s playing alongside the legendary musicians Django Bates, Dave Holland and Nasheet Waits – that’s a line-up to make your mouth water. I’m hoping I can be there myself, so maybe see you there!