Cosmic Odyssey – Richard Davies (reviewed by T. Bebedor)

Back in October 2022 I had an album by saxophonist Richard Davies placed under my nose, it was an album about an old Welsh tin mine, drawing on electro landscapes and using the saxophone as the centre piece to a haunting, mesmerising album. Needless to say I’ve been a fan ever since and now, just six or seven short months later, he’s popped up again with another offering to the music gods.

So am I let down? Is it a case of the second album curse that strikes so many artists?

Well I’m happy to announce that no, none of these things are true, if anything – and I know this is a subjective matter – Cosmic Odyssey is better than its predecessor.

We start in typical jazz fashion on ‘A Dog and His Boy’ with interesting rhythmic drums opening the listener to a new world (maybe I should mention at this point that if the title has given you a hint, the music is influenced heavily by Davies’ love of sci-fi movies – perhaps some song titles are clues?) before the sax comes in, weaving, chanting and moving in and out of scales while being accompanied by those drums.

There is more than a hint to John Coltrane, even in the tonal choices that Davies makes, it’s not just about energy and dexterity, it’s about note choice and fitting the sound to the overall musical experience. By my standards, that comment is pretentious and probably high brow but it’s pretty obvious that this album hasn’t simply fallen together, this is weeks and months of deliberate choices along the way, putting things in the correct places and building up a trancy soundscape.

‘Communion’ is a simple echoing, explorative sax set against a growing train-shuffle of a drum rhythm, there is something 90’s jazz about it, yet it remains unobtrusive and interesting. Jazz has always been a medium for patience, finding the spaces between the notes and often ignoring them, allowing the space to create it’s own drama. This is true here. Drums, sax, maybe some synth and you have a tune that is equally calming and dramatic at the same time.

I think my favourite song/s are the trio of ‘Egg’, ‘Eggs’ and ‘Egg3’ (surely a nod to Alien, Aliens and Alien3…) it’s itching, frantic percussion of ‘Egg’ makes the skin crawl before some clever vocal work on ‘Eggs’ that builds the tension before the industrial sounding ‘Egg3’. It’s subtle but enjoyable.

There is so much to enjoy here, the experience is therapeutic. On the previous album, I suggested you find a comfortable chair, a warm drink and just immerse yourself into the music, it’s the same thing here, the whole experience is immersive and I think this is the trick to Richard Davies’ music. It’s jazz-based but, like all good music, it refuses to be pigeon-holed in one place, it’s too broad for that.

‘Some Kind of Leap’ is intense and explorative and – I think – ends the album. It feel like the end of a journey, a return to the ground if you like. How someone has produced this level of music in such a short time is impressive, I’m guessing he likes to keep busy.