Luminance by Marilyn Lerner: A Jazz Explosion That Kicks Ass
Alright, buckle up, because Luminance by Marilyn Lerner is not your grandma's jazz album—unless your grandma digs freaky piano wizardry and off-the-wall improvisation. Released in 2003 on Ambiances Magnétiques (yeah, that’s Canadian), this record slaps hard. It’s all Marilyn at the keys, doing her thing like nobody else matters. And trust me, it shows.
First off, let’s talk about “deluge.” Holy crap, this track hits you like… well, a deluge. The opening notes are jagged, almost violent, but then they smooth out into something kinda beautiful. You’re sitting there thinking, "Wait, what just happened?" That’s Marilyn for ya—she doesn’t give a damn about sticking to one mood. One second you’re drowning in chaos, the next you’re floating in calm waters. I remember this track because it feels alive, like it could turn on you at any moment. Love it or hate it, it’s unforgettable.
Then there’s “cartoon fest,” which is exactly what it sounds like—a wild ride through some twisted cartoon universe where nothing makes sense but everything works. This tune has these playful staccato bursts that sound like evil chipmunks plotting world domination. But don’t get too comfy; halfway through, Marilyn flips the script with a slow, brooding section that feels like someone hit pause on the Looney Tunes madness. It’s weird, man, but weird in the best way possible. These two tracks alone make the album worth listening to if you’ve got ears that can handle unpredictability.
The rest of the tracks? They’re solid as hell too. Tracks like “wolfen” and “ombre” bring the spooky vibes, while “road tango” throws you into a smoky bar somewhere between Buenos Aires and Montreal. Every song is its own little beast, clawing its way into your brain. Marilyn doesn’t hold back—she attacks the piano like it owes her money.
Now here’s the kicker: after blasting through Luminance, I realized something. Jazz doesn’t have to be polite or pretty to be good. Sometimes it needs to punch you in the face and leave you wondering what the hell just happened. Marilyn Lerner gets that. She doesn’t care if you “get” her music—she just wants you to feel it. And honestly? If more jazz albums were this raw and unapologetic, I’d probably listen to more jazz.
So yeah, go grab Luminance. Just don’t blame me if it messes with your head. Oh, and hey—if you ever meet Marilyn, tell her thanks for making jazz weird again.
