More about: Joe Armon-Jones

New London jazz is an incestuous affair. Musicians are passed around from large ensembles like the Afrobeat-infused KOKOROKO, to smaller outfits such as the wildly infectious Ezra Collective.

Despite the fact that tonight celebrates keyboardist Joe Armon-Jones’ solo venture, the lineup still has a beautiful feel of collectivity to it. His frontliners include favourite collaborator saxophonist Nubya Garcia, as well as guitarist Oscar Jerome of KOKOROKO fame. plus saxophonist James Mollison and trumpeter Ogunjobi.

As the night unfolds, Armon-Jones gently unpacks each layer of the set. Sliding between song, spoken word, and pure instrumentalism, he takes the notion of jazz and stretches, pokes and molds it into a sonic sculpture of his own making.

After a few warm up tunes, the band segue into the full album Turn To Clear View. Garcia and Armon-Jones maintain their usual synergy, riffing gently off each other’s rhythms. Armon-Jones’ face is a barometer of the set, metamorphosing from an O shaped mouth to a tentative smile, which could just as easily double as a grimace. Contracting and swelling with the music, it’s refreshing to see a musician who literally can’t control his face, so absorbed is he in the art of his own making.

The stellar brass outfit fling themselves into a melting pot of trills, pseudo-scales and other ornaments, their unified interaction entering a plane that we’re not invited to.

The keys, by nature, are an instrument that cloak their player in invisibility – Armon-Jones complies, ducking his head down to crouch behind his instrument for much of the set. His fingers produce tremulous waves of sound as they race up and down the keys, resulting in melodies so syncopated they’re almost undone. The origin of the sound emitted may be hidden from sight, but the notes themselves lay coy claim to the tune.

Armon-Jones’ face, framed by enduringly wispy hair, appears halfway through the set – "I get so lost in the music, I forget to talk to you guys". His speech, steeped in humility, thanks everyone who has contributed to the atmosphere there tonight - from the PRs to the punters, he declares that we all have a part to play.

Soon after, a firework of noise explodes into the ether; keys and saxophone erupt into a vividly coloured array of sound. The rhythm climbs into an experimental frenzy until the sax is just emitting random notes amidst the chaos. The beat is essentially lost at this point – but it works. There are often conversations between jazz artists that defy logic, exploring realms of music that audience members aren’t privy to. It all hangs in the last few notes of the climax, when at last the beat is found again, and strands of sense are teased out of the delicious tornado of sound.

More about: Joe Armon-Jones