Lines snap into place, flare out, trade energy back and forth, and the solos aren’t afraid to get a little rough
Klangraum Records
Fernando Brox – Flute; Edu Cabello – Alto Saxophone, Bass Clarinet; Victor Carrascosa | Trumpet, Flugelhorn; David Muñoz – Double Bass; Maximilian Hering – Drums; Featuring: Lucia Fumero – Piano (Tracks 1 & 4)
German drummer Maximilian Hering put together a chordless quartet back in 2018 — just horns, bass, and drums. On The Gathering, he stretches that idea. He added flute as a full-time voice and invited pianist Lucia Fumero in on two tracks—but the heart of the band remains that open, horn-driven sound.
That shows on “Moles on her skin,” which opens with a bright, almost big-band fullness before settling into a relaxed bossa nova groove. The flute rides high, carrying the melody while the horns answer underneath and the bass locks into a steady pulse. When sax and flute start trading lines, it becomes clear call-and-response—short phrases answered immediately, each one stretched or rhythmically nudged a little further. Hering leans into the Latin feel on the kit, keeping the groove supple and steady.
A different energy moves through “Ojo de Madera.” A drum shuffle starts things off—light cymbals up top, weightier toms underneath. The bass clarinet repeats a short phrase that locks in with the walking bass, creating a firm rhythmic bed as the flute solos brightly above. The horns move around that pattern, adding flashes of dissonance as the texture begins to fray. Even then, the pulse never drops.
The title track, “The Gat·hering,” shows Hering’s sense of humor—a wink in the spelling, and even the cover image of a man with a fish for a head. The tune is a blues in six. Sharp horn figures lock into unison before loosening again, pressing slightly against the beat to give the swing a crooked edge. Bass and drums hold a firm pulse underneath, letting the whole thing lean and lurch without tipping over.
One of the prettiest moments here comes with the addition of piano on “519 km is too far for kissing you.” The opening is spare—just piano and bass at first—before the horns ease in and the mood settles into something almost weightless. The flute floats overhead, and the horns trade phrases quietly, never crowding the space.
Fumero’s solo is what shifts the atmosphere. She staggers individual notes so they lean forward instead of gliding, creating a line that’s delicate and lyrical with a quiet ache. The trumpet doesn’t try smoothing that out; it echoes the same phrasing, holding onto the tension.
“Oliver,” written by Fernando Brox, begins with arco bass and light percussion, hushed behind the horns in somber unison. As the rhythm grows more insistent, the bass moves to plucked lines and the horns break into sharper, dissonant bursts. Flute and sax drift above, tracing airy, melodic lines that contrast with the grounded pulse underneath. The piece nods to Olivier Messiaen with its modal gestures, but the mood is immediate and human, shaped as much by the ensemble’s interactions as by the composition itself.
The Gathering works because the band keeps things sharp. Lines snap into place, flare out, trade energy back and forth, and the solos aren’t afraid to get a little rough. Fumero’s piano adds light touches that shift color without taking over. Mostly, though, it just sounds like a band playing together, paying attention, and enjoying the ride.
