The Köln Concert is a live solo double album by pianist Keith Jarrett recorded at the Opera House in Köln, West Germany, on 24 January 1975 and released on ECM Records later that year. It is the best-selling solo album in jazz history and the best-selling piano album. In 2025, the Library of Congress deemed the album “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant”.
You tell me that silence
is nearer to peace than poems
but if for my gift
I brought you silence
(for I know silence)
you would say
This is not silence
this is another poem
and you would hand it back to me.
In his brief accompanying note, Larry Grenadier speaks of this solo bass album’s genesis and creative process as a look inward. If so, he has clearly understood and modified Salman Rushdie’s notion, from Midnight’s Children, that knowing one instrument means digesting the world from which that instrument comes. Grenadier calls that assimilation of elements gleaning, and it informs every gesture on this beautiful disc of introspectively virtuosic terrains for double bass.
A precursor might be Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, which, far from being the first foray into modality and its implications, was certainly a hot point on the spatial spectrum, magnifying time interval and articulation as duration and achieving longevity in the process. The obvious connection between that landmark album and The Gleaners is John Coltrane, whose “Compassion” Grenadier treats and presents in cleverly appropriate tandem with Paul Motian’s “The Owl of Cranston,” but his is as much controlled flight of fancy as literal revamp. Homage is certainly present in “Pettiford,” and that bassist’s far-too-brief career is encapsulated with circumspect beauty as the implied changes drift, stomp and swerve by, but even Grenadier’s swing-into-bop pizzicato is reflective rather than heated. Incendiary phrases spark, sputter and hang nearly detached over spaces in which the mind allows them to percolate, their ramifications allowing breathing room akin to each note he plays.
Grenadier’s other compositions are formed from similarly atomistic stuff. The aptly titled “Oceanic” grows in waves from a low-register pitch, and it’s difficult to resist being drawn in as that Lydian thing is slowly transformed, via spatially diverse dyads, into nuanced blues. The two areas of musical concentration occur in slow graceful dance, as does the modally mixed transition from Coltrane to Motian later in the album. The Gleaners exists in spaces just on the point of definition, simultaneously exploited and abandoned. The title track’s complex harmonic model morphs, mutating with each added pitch, while its constituent harmonics simultaneously offer a gorgeous timbral concession, even an antidote of sorts. “Woebegone” stretches boundaries even further as pedal tones are overdubbed, demonstrating the bassist’s orchestral gifts. As with so many ECM releases, a superb recording ensures that repeated listening exposes the layers of detail that justify the disc’s title. Modified repetition, modal mixture, space and homage only expose part of the Gleaners’ narrative, and each audition brings more of Grenadier’s world into focus.