Visionaire by Maurizio Brunod: A Sonic Journey That Sticks With You
Released in 1999 under the Italian label Nota, Visionaire by Maurizio Brunod is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. It’s not just jazz or new age—it’s this weirdly cool hybrid of contemporary jazz with dashes of world music vibes. The kind of thing you’d put on during a rainy afternoon and suddenly find yourself staring out the window like some moody movie character.
Brunod wears many hats here—he plays electric guitar, acoustic guitar, bass, flute, percussion, organ, kora, loops… seriously, dude does everything. But he doesn’t hog all the spotlight; collaborators bring their magic too. Alberto Mandarini adds trumpet flairs, Alfonso Domenici brings soulful sax lines, and Miroslav Panic sprinkles accordion charm into tracks like “Sarajevo.” Oh, and let’s not forget Djibril N’Diaye Rose, who pops up multiple times to add his voice—a haunting thread tying the whole thing together.
Now, two tracks really stuck with me. First off, there’s “Napoli”. This track feels like wandering through cobblestone streets at sunset, maybe holding an espresso cup (or wine glass, no judgment). There’s something about how the melody dances between calm and chaotic—it’s got layers, man. Like peeling back an onion but way less tear-inducing. And then when it switches gears halfway through, adding more groove and rhythm? Chef’s kiss. Honestly, I kept replaying it because it felt like home even though I’ve never been to Naples.
Then there’s “Whale Song,” which is exactly what it sounds like if whales were chill musicians jamming in the deep blue sea. The track has this dreamy flow, almost meditative, until Alberto Mandarini’s trumpet jumps in for the featured version. Suddenly, it’s like someone turned the volume up on life itself—brighter, bolder, impossible to ignore. You can practically see the ocean waves rolling as the notes echo. Whale Song made me wonder if humpbacks ever get stage fright. Probably not—they seem pretty confident out there.
What makes Visionaire special isn’t just its genre-blurring soundscapes but also its emotional depth. Tracks bleed into each other seamlessly, creating this big tapestry of moods. One moment you’re vibing to romantic strings, the next you’re hit with raw, earthy beats. It’s unpredictable yet comforting, like meeting an old friend who surprises you every time.
And hey, fun fact: Maurizio Brunod didn’t just play half the instruments—he wrote the liner notes AND helped design the artwork. Talk about wearing all the hats! Props to Alessandro Brunod (maybe a relative?) for making the cover art pop, and Elena Bazzano for keeping everything crisp in the studio.
In the end, Visionaire isn’t perfect—it meanders sometimes, and a few tracks feel overly experimental—but isn’t that kinda beautiful? Life’s messy, and so is this album. It reminds me of those random conversations you have late at night where nothing makes sense but somehow everything clicks.
So yeah, give it a spin. Just don’t blame me if you start randomly humming “Napoli” while pretending to be Italian.
