The first thing that stands out is how memorable these tunes are.
radau records
Vincent Rein – Bass, Compositions; Fabio Devigili – Tenor & Soprano Saxophones; Michael Salvermorser – Trumpet, Flugelhorn; Max Hacker – Piano; Konstantin Krautler-Horváth – Drums
“I may never be the best, most virtuosic player on the planet, but I think my musical voice is worthy of being heard.”
That’s a risky thing for a musician to say out loud. Fortunately, Vincent Rein has the songs to back it up. After years working as a sideman, the Austrian bassist steps forward on Variants with seven original compositions and a quintet that sounds comfortable inside every one of them.
The first thing that stands out is how memorable these tunes are. “City Of Nokia” opens with a piano figure, thumping bass, and drums that resemble a rock band warming up before the horns arrive. Michael Salvermoser plays a melody on trumpet so simple and catchy you could probably whistle it after one listen. Fabio Devigili’s tenor solo unfolds in long, breathy phrases, occasionally climbing into the upper register and letting the notes hang in the air. Maximilian Hacker takes a more melodic route, threading together single-note lines while his left hand lightly punctuates the harmony.
Rein’s compositions often leave plenty of room for the soloists to shape where a tune goes next. During “Windmills,” Devigili is easygoing, decorating phrases with small trills and leaving plenty of space between ideas. Later he’s pushing harder, reaching higher into the horn and sending out a flurry of notes while Hacker’s piano grows more animated behind him.
“Unexpected” contains one of the album’s more dramatic pauses. After the band builds intensity behind Devigili’s tenor, everything suddenly pulls back. Rein steps forward, his bass growing more insistent with each phrase. Behind him, Kräutler-Horváth trades sticks for brushes, punctuating the bassist’s phrases while the rest of the band slowly rebuilds the momentum.
The tribute “Farewell,” written for Rein’s late teacher Paulo Cardoso, opens with repeated piano, bass, and drum figures before the horns introduce a series of descending phrases over Rein’s booming bass. Salvermoser’s bright, melodic trumpet lines float overhead. When Hacker takes the spotlight, he moves from introspective single-notes to faster ascending runs.
The title track begins with repeated bass notes and crisp stick work from Kräutler-Horváth before the horns settle into long, held tones. Salvermoser enters, repeating short phrases and lingering on higher notes while Hacker drops melodic accents around him. When Devigili takes over, he seems to grab the trumpet’s final phrase and carry it forward, pushing the melody a little harder before the horns return near the end.
The modesty of Rein’s quote is understandable. The confidence of the music is harder to miss.
