Eero Savela’s Way To is that rare debut jazz album that feels neither tentative nor ostentatiously bold but is rather marked by a quiet confidence. The record, entirely composed by Savela, lets his trumpet act as both signpost and companion to the listener—buoyant on the opener "Way To," spectral and glassy on "Phantasm," then subtly playful on "Timangi." The ensemble—Seppo Kantonen's wurlitzer, Eero Tikkanen on bass, Joonas Leppänen on drums, and Erno Haukkala’s trombone on select tracks—chooses blend and feel over individual fireworks, prioritizing a kind of gently breathing interplay.
Sonically, the album sits between the groove-drunk optimism of early '70s Hancock and the cool precision of Nordic jazz; you’ll detect echoes of both, yet neither dominates. The improvisational dialogue is "a living, breathing dialogue between seasoned musicians," as the label text proposes, and it feels like more than boilerplate. Pieces like "Venus" and "Climbing" seep forward not with narrative drama but a slow, atmospheric accumulation—letting themes surface, recede, and return as if on their own terms. 'Way To' stands out for its absence of showy gestures; even the production, handled with care by Jarno Alho, avoids embellishment, favoring clarity and a subtly tactile warmth.
In an era of jazz debuts anxious to prove technical credentials, Savela’s musical ego remains permeable, occasionally receding into the group textures, always favoring the collective. The record neither shouts nor whispers—it invites you, unobtrusively, to walk beside it and notice the scenery. "Way To" may not reshape the jazz world, but, to quote the liner notes, it "reflects the sounds he wants to share with audiences—sounds that speak, question, and evolve"—and sometimes, that’s precisely what’s needed.
