Fellow Traveler Miro Takebi Trio Vol 2: A Low-Key Jazz Gem from Japan
Alright, so here’s the deal—Fellow Traveler Miro Takebi Trio Vol 2 isn’t your typical flashy jazz album. It’s more like that quiet friend who shows up and just gets it done. You know what I mean? This record, put out by the Miro Takebi Trio on Gas Point!, feels super intimate, almost like you’re sitting in a tiny Tokyo jazz club late at night. The players are tight: Miro Takebi on piano (he also wrote all the tunes), Makoto Saito holding down the bass, and Shuichi Murakami keeping things groovy on drums. Oh, and props to Ryuichi Sase for engineering this baby—it sounds crisp without being overproduced.
Now, let’s talk tracks because there’s some real magic here. First off, “Griffin Dance” is one of those songs that kinda sneaks up on you. At first, it’s chill, with this lilting rhythm that makes you nod along like, “Yeah, cool.” But then Miro starts doing these little runs on the piano—super playful, but not trying too hard, y’know? And when the bass kicks in stronger halfway through, it’s like… damn, man, this is storytelling without words. Feels like watching someone twirl under streetlights or something equally cinematic.
Then there’s “After Dark,” which hits different. This one’s slower, moodier, perfect for staring out a rain-speckled window while nursing a cup of coffee—or maybe something stronger if that’s your vibe. The interplay between the piano and drums here is next-level subtle. Like, they’re not competing; they’re having a conversation. By the time the track fades out, you’re left feeling like you just witnessed something private, like an unspoken moment between old friends.
The rest of the album keeps the vibe going—tracks like “Love Song” and “Still Night” bring their own flavors, but honestly, I keep coming back to “Griffin Dance” and “After Dark.” They stick with me, ya feel me?
What’s wild about this whole thing is how DIY it feels. Miro didn’t just write the music—he took the cover photo and designed the artwork too. That kind of hands-on approach gives the album this cohesive personality, like it’s truly his baby from start to finish. Plus, shoutout to Japan for consistently delivering jazz that doesn’t try too hard to impress—it just is, and that’s enough.
So yeah, if you’re into jazz that whispers instead of shouts, check this one out. Honestly, listening to it feels less like hearing a performance and more like eavesdropping on a really good hang. Weird flex, but true.
Oh, and random thought: If this album were a drink, it’d be black tea with a splash of whiskey. Just saying.
