Reviews RCD2196

The Norwegian label is developing a specialism in piano trios. The players here —the leader on piano, Bjorn Marius Hegge on bass, and Andreas Winther on drums — are in their twenties but their assurance belies that. It's mostly compositions by the pianist, plus some collective improvisations, that style-wise in some ways follows on from Keith Jarrett's European quartet — it grooves and has rich harmonies and lyrical melodies drawn from varied genres. It took me several listens to fully realise just how magical this album is, and I'm only sorry that some tracks are too brief — notably the plangent 90 second opening "Entrance", which I'd love to hear developed. But rather than risk wasting a note, this simpatico group aim for economy.
The Wire (UK)

This 26-year-old Copenhagen-based pianist's trio mixes together sparse zen-funk and folk song-based vemaculars, but there's a warmer tone to the recording that is less typical of this kind of contemporary Nordic jazz model.
Jazzwise (UK)

If the twenty-something trio led by pianist Kjetil Mulelid is anything to go by, the new generation of Nordic jazz is set to continue the good work. Based in Copenhagen now, Mulelid comes from the Norwegian back woods. He started out playing classical music and then studied jazz in Trondheim. But while his technique does have the hallmark of conservatory training, he's clearly an improviser at heart. That's also reflected in his writing, which leaves plenty of room for collective improvisation. The group's vibrant sound is reminiscent of the late Esbjorn Svensson's trio, with all three players vying up front and dispensing with the traditional piano plus supporting cast set-up: drummer Andreas Winther and sonorous bassist Bjorn Hegge are as free ranging as Mulelid. Their music is full of surprises. Fly, Fly, Fly ebbs and flows with a restated melodic hook before tumbling into a more turbulent exchange, Mulelid wailing Jarrett-like. You Stood There In Silence is a faltering piece with the piano expressing an accusatory tone; Winther's rambling drums are deliberately independent of the leader's theme. The spontaneously conceived, two-minute digression entitled C&R is spare and suspenseful and a complement to the sinister closing piece, Three Last Words, to wrap up a fascinating set from a promising new group.
Jazz Journal (UK)

Another Norwegian, Kjetil Mulelid, makes his trio debut with Not Enough to Buy A House, a generally more relaxed and equilateral effort than the above. Although the central track, "C & R", is a free improvisation, the album as a whole has a tonal (or at least semi-tonal) feel, Mulelid's themes leisurely unraveling around lifting and lowering rock chord progressions, often sustaining a pedal tone or repeated notes against the shifting harmony. Bassist Andreas Winther and drummer Bjorn Hegge are iconoclasts by temperament, willing to follow the song forms but prone to interject elements of rambunctiousness, readily apparent in "Children's Song" or "You Stood There in Silence, Having No Words". Winther, without raising his volume, easily asserts himself during these 'trialogues' while Mulelid's 'solos' ride the collective wave.
NYC JazzRecord (US)

Not Nearly Enough To Buy A House byrjar i kjende, skandinaviske vendingar, med harmoniske, elegante brytningar og ein sløy og fleksibel groove. Når Mulelid går til angrep med sitt første kor på andresporet "Fly, Fly” merkar ein at desse tre meinar alvor. Improvisasjonen i gruppa er agressiv, frilyndt og uføreseieleg, og dei må bryte heilt opp før han finn tilbake til hovudtemaet. Slik held trioen fram gjennom plata, og med innslag av enkle, vakre og velgjorte komposisjonar som sklir inn og ut av ganske fri og ekspressiv improvisasjon… Dette skapar ein rikdom av motiv, utvekslingar og stor samspelskunst, utan at det maksimalistiske må vike for det smakfulle. 
Jazznytt (NO)

Bei diesem Aufeinander-Glucken sind das nestflüchtende 'Fly, Fly' und beschwingte 'Leaving Home' auf Not Nearly Enough To Buy A House (RCD2196) nicht verwunderlich. Aber das bleiben Wünsche, die sich in einem 'Children's Song' verstecken oder stumm bleiben: 'You Stood There In Silence, Having No Words'. Man atmet, so vergeht die Zeit. Mit 'Entrance' fing es gerade erst an, und schwups hält einer einem ein Mikrophon hin für 'Three Last Words'. Wie bei Kafkas Mann vom Land vor dem Gesetz könnte ein Türhüter brüllen: Dieser Eingang (Ausgang) war die ganze Zeit nur für dich bestimmt. Ich gehe jetzt und schließe ihn. Dabei drückt Mulelid die Tasten, als könnte er den Unterschied von Sehnsucht und Wehmut vergessen machen, mit kraftvollen und wendigen Kaskaden, ostinaten Steigerungen, perlenden Verzierungen. Der Aufschwung auf kristalline Gipfel ist ebenso eine Option wie energische Schritte. Aber das sind Erinnerungen an die Siebenmeilenstiefel, in denen man als Hänschen klein stiefelte. Davon bleiben der Gummi, der zähe Morast, das Wort, das einem fehlt. Aber auch das Mysterium, dass einen die geheimniskrämerisch tastenden Klänge besonders bei 'c & r' und 'Time/Breath' und überhaupt der Mehltau, der diese Musik so melancholisch überzieht, nicht weniger einleuchten als deren Jarrett-beschwingte Alternative.
Bad Alchemy (DE)