Gawlik’s music isn’t about showing off chops or nailing perfect solos. It’s about getting to the truth of a sound in the moment.
Unit Records
Julius Gawlik – Saxophone, clarinet; Jim Black – Drums; Evi Filippou – Vibraphone; Phil Donkin – Bass
Berlin saxophonist and clarinetist Julius Gawlik plays with an ear for surprise. His debut, It’s All in Your Head, is full of searching lines, sharp turns, and a mix of rough edges and quiet patience. With drummer Jim Black, vibraphonist Evi Filippou, and bassist Phil Donkin, he’s found a group that listens closely and moves together with purpose. The music can shift from a whisper to full drive in a heartbeat, but it always feels alive and in the moment.
Gawlik may be the youngest-ever member of Germany’s NDR Bigband and a fixture on the European festival circuit, but nothing about this debut feels like careful careerism. It sounds like someone who’s already earned his place.
The opener, “There Are No Ugly Dogs,” starts in a whisper — bass, cymbals, and tenor sax circling each other like canines meeting for the first time: sniffing, curious, checking boundaries. The groove tightens and the energy rises. Filippou’s vibes ring and blur, sometimes percussive, sometimes dreamlike, while Gawlik pushes against the rhythm with a tone that’s warm but restless. The piece builds until it feels like it’s shaking loose, then winds down gently, like the dogs know the squirrel’s finally left the yard.
That urge to explore runs through the whole record, steering the music in unexpected directions. Gawlik doesn’t chase beauty so much as he chases what turns up when he goes looking for it. “You Wish” shows that side of him clearly, with clarinet and vibes trading crooked, searching phrases. Nothing about it is conventionally pretty—the melody wanders, meanders, finds its own way—but there’s something honest about that.
When the band hits “Fuchs,” it’s like starting an old engine. Donkin’s bass cranks up with a heavy, walking pulse, Black’s drumming snaps into gear, and Filippou’s vibes chatter and clatter like moving parts finding rhythm. Gawlik’s tenor spits short, percussive bursts—raw, a little jagged, like a gear that hasn’t been oiled in a while—pushing against the rhythm as the band picks up speed. The tune runs hot for a while, all pistons firing, then gradually loses momentum. By the end, it slows to a crawl—the bass plodding, the drums thudding in slow motion—before the whole machine creaks, scrapes, and shuts down.
Eerie overtones and shimmering cymbals settle “Glow” into a low-lying fog. Gawlik’s clarinet breaks through with chirping upper-register runs that gradually stretch into longer, twisted phrases—haunting at first, then unexpectedly warmly tender.
By the time we reach “TSCH,” the group sounds fearless. The sax squeals and pleads, the vibes clang dissonantly, and the whole thing feels raw and unresolved—rough around the edges, but real, like he’s more interested in what’s true than what’s comfortable.
Gawlik’s music isn’t about showing off chops or nailing perfect solos. It’s about getting to the truth of a sound in the moment. With this band, he’s built a voice that’s patient, unvarnished, and unafraid of dissonance. It’s All in Your Head might be his first album, but it sounds like the work of someone who already knows what he’s listening for.
