Hobby Horse Records
Richard Andersson – double bass; Rudi Mahall – clarinets; Artur Tuznik – piano; Kasper Tom – drums
https://richardandersson.bandcamp.com/album/monk-more
Richard Andersson has become one of the more distinctive bass voices on the Danish jazz scene. The Copenhagen-based bassist studied in New York before returning home, staying active as both a bandleader and collaborator in modern projects and more traditional settings. He’s built a reputation for choosing his contexts carefully.
On Monk & More, he turns to music associated with Thelonious Monk, alongside pieces by Lennie Tristano, Ornette Coleman, Lee Konitz, and Jimmy Giuffre. So it’s not framed as a strict tribute. Instead, the quartet—Rudi Mahall on clarinet, Artur Tuznik on piano, and Kasper Tom on drums—takes the material apart and puts it back together in its own way.
Mahall’s clarinet has bite from the start. On “Brilliant Corners,” he and Andersson lay out the theme before the piano slips in underneath. He throws off offbeat phrases with an easy, almost sideways feel—there’s humor in the timing, but also a firm sense of direction. When the tempo kicks up, brushing against a stride pulse, he leans into the horn and isn’t afraid to overblow. A few notes squawk. He means them to.
Tuznik follows by leaning into the tune’s angles. The phrasing nods to Thelonious Monk, but the attack is his own—clusters of notes tumbling out in the upper register while the left hand drops in thick chords.
At the center of it all, Andersson keeps the music grounded with a steady pulse. When he steps forward, the low notes resonate and hang in the air a moment longer than you expect. Tom listens closely, often picking up whatever the bass is outlining and adding light commentary around it.
On “Subconscious-Lee,” the band settles into a straight-ahead groove with Andersson walking steadily. Mahall’s clarinet swirls around the theme with a reedy, aggressive attack. When Tuznik takes his solo, he leans into the keyboard, hitting the keys hard. Flurries of notes spill out in the upper register while his left hand drops chords and threads its own melodic line below.
One thing this band does well is use contrast. On “Trinkle Tinkle,” the intro comes in sharper and more jagged than the familiar versions, with the drums sitting a bit farther forward and Mahall’s clarinet bristling. A few tracks later, “Pannonica” settles into something easier. The tempo relaxes into a laid-back swing. The clarinet eases off the pressure while Tuznik’s piano rolls along, and the walking bass turns into a melodic solo, full and resonant.
These songs have been around a long time—they can take a little pressure. Andersson’s quartet knows that. They lean into the angles, let the humor show, and push the music just enough to see how it bends. By the end, the record feels less like a project than a band having real fun with some famously stubborn tunes.
