1. Scenery (1976)

(Satoshi Denpo (Bass), Yoshinori Fukui (Drums), Ryo Fukui (Piano))

Released when Ryo was 27 years old, Scenery is to jazz music as Is This It? is to rock music. A love letter of the purest form. The Strokes took forty years of rock music and chewed it up in a way that only a true blood fan of the music could, and so it is with Scenery. Playing a mixture of a mixture of original compositions and renditions of classics jazz standards, Ryo immediately proves what seperated him from jazz musicians of the time. Many jazz musicians in the 70s would have scoffed at the idea of performing the simple standards. And worse yet, many would have played them in the most rigid, classical way possible. On the other hand, Ryo and his trio perform them with such passion and energy the standards transform into something wholly unique. Equally fundamental, was that the trio exuded such a genuine lack of cynicism, and intellectual posturing, something the overly self-serious jazz world so desperately needed in 1976.

Their performance of “I Want To Talk About You”, takes the melancholic late-night dreaming of the original, and turns into an almost playful recollection of things left behind. With scatting piano lines, and blissful bass underpinnings. And much like a solid majority of the tracks here, the drum and bass are restrained, allowing Ryo’s piano to really shine. His playing is lyrical, and emotive, much like a Village Vanguard-era Bill Evans, but with less focus on subtle complexity. There’s a tangible immediacy to it that’s very unique for lyrical jazz pianists. The notes are hit hard and with purpose, almost evoking tinges of Nina Simone. But even with this forcefulness, there’s nothing harsh to his tone. These are by no means hard, or dissonant numbers, they are overwhelmingly peaceful, and almost eerily beautiful. And when he hits those hard solos, it doesn’t grate the ear, instead it lends these songs an off-kilter swing.

Take for example, the solo on “Early Summer”. Right after the drums and bass come in, the piano has this stuttering riff that seems to build and build before just exploding into this wild midsection. Every single member of the trio attempts to outplay each other at the highest speed their fragile human bodies will allow, while somehow still managing this smooth sensibility. It’s got this pulse to it that’s hard not to bop your head to. And it’s not just Ryo’s playing that’s mesmerizing, because directly followed this section of group interplay is an astonishing solo drum performance where Yoshinori truly stakes his claim as one of Japan’s greatest drummers. The song is a ten minute achievement, not only in each member’s performance, but in Ryo’s incredible composition, standing above even the beloved standards the precede and follow it.

Like every good love letter album, it explores it all, with bop numbers, cool jazz numbers, modal numbers, and a blurring between it all into a singular vision. Its peaceful and reflective, propulsive and yet lulling, and in a growing consensus, one of jazz music’s great, lost masterpieces.