Bellflower is a warm record, melody-first, exactly what Iida set out to make. It’s the perfect band to help him sound good — and he does.
Origin Records
Jun Iida – trumpet, vocals; Chris McCarthy – piano & Rhodes; Giulio Xavier Cetto – bass; Jongkuk Kim – drums; Masami Kuroki – guitar; Takafumi Nikaido – congas (5); Zelda Harris – vocals (6)
A trumpet doesn’t have to shout to say something. Chet Baker knew it, so did Miles, and Jun Iida works from that same place on Bellflower. His debut, Evergreen, was the more esoteric record — this time he said he wanted something warmer, more fun. He stays easy and unforced through most of it, though every so often he’ll push into a higher register or add some grit to his tone, just a flash before he settles back.
Bellflower is a personal record, and Iida brings a lot of his own history into it. A bellflower is a small purple flower associated with gratitude and friendship. Iida named the album for that and a street name in Cleveland where he and his college friends used to gather. Rivers and Bridges” pays homage to Pittsburgh, the Three Rivers City, where he began studying trumpet after hearing Louis Armstrong on his mother’s Hello, Dolly! album. “Hotaru Nights” is named for the Japanese word for firefly, a memory of Iida and his siblings catching them as kids back in the Midwest.
Nine of the ten tracks are Iida originals; the exception is “The Final View,” written by the late Japanese hip-hop producer Nujabes. Rhodes opens it alone, repeating a phrase over the bass before the trumpet enters bright, clear, and growing more melodic with the drums’ steady rimshots setting the foundation. The trumpet pushes the tempo, his lines fluid with a touch of vibrato, before the whole band circles back to those opening phrases.
Iida rarely raises his voice, and “Next Time” shows why that’s a kind of eloquence — the trumpet relaxed and a little breathy, conversational, varying his phrasing. “Marco the Phoenix” pulls in the opposite direction: congas and a resonant bass intro change the whole texture, and the trumpet starts gingerly pushing repeated phrases until the notes rush and bleed together. Guitar and Rhodes trade off underneath, and the congas — the only appearance of hand percussion on the record — add a welcome splash of color, the whole rhythm section driving with more intensity than anywhere else on Bellflower.
“Will They Remember?” is the only piece with narration. Iida wrote it in response to headlines of war and conflict, thinking especially of the sacrifices mothers make. The trumpet’s repeating phrases circle that same thought without ever resolving it. Zelda Harris’s pleasant voice recites a poem; Masami Kuroki’s guitar shadows the trumpet, throwing melodic lines back at him. The piano’s orchestral solo with the struck chords in the left hand and single-note runs recalls Erroll Garner. Iida, for a moment, twists his notes with more aggression than anywhere else.
“Lovers’ Interlude” cools things down into two minutes of muted, r&b soul groove. “Chasing Peace” earns its title honestly, its long, unhurried bass and piano solos never straining for effect. And the title track closes things out on a note of open-hearted nostalgia, Kuroki’s guitar catching a metallic shimmer in its best solo of the record before Iida returns with a few higher notes, less a flourish than a goodbye.
Bellflower is a warm record, melody-first, exactly what Iida set out to make. It’s the perfect band to help him sound good — and he does.
