Album Review: Solo by Mulgrew Miller
Alright, let’s talk about Solo, the 2010 jazz masterpiece by Mulgrew Miller. Released under Space Time Records in France, this album is exactly what the title suggests—just Mulgrew and his piano, no frills, no distractions. If you’re into jazz, this one’s a gem you can’t sleep on.
First off, let me say that Mulgrew Miller had some serious chops. The guy could make a piano sing like nobody’s business. And with this album, he proves it track after track. I mean, there’s no band backing him up here—it’s just him, his keys, and all the feels. You’d think that might feel limiting or boring, but nah, it’s the opposite. It’s raw, intimate, and kinda magical.
Now, onto the tracks. There are eight total, but two really stuck with me: “Giant Steps” and “Body & Soul.”
“Giant Steps” is wild because, honestly, most people hear that tune and think of Coltrane shredding through those crazy chord changes. But Mulgrew flips it completely. He slows it way down, turning it into this brooding, reflective piece. It’s almost like he’s telling you a story instead of showing off his technical skills. I found myself zoning out while listening to it—like, whoa, where’d the time go? That’s how good it is.
Then there’s “Body & Soul,” which is just…chef’s kiss. This one’s a classic for a reason, but Mulgrew makes it his own. His touch on the keys is so smooth and tender, it’s like he’s whispering secrets directly into your ear. Honestly, I got a little emotional the first time I heard it. Like, when was the last time an instrumental track made you feel something deep in your chest? Yeah, exactly.
Other highlights include “Con Alma” and “My Old Flame,” both of which show off his ability to blend technical brilliance with genuine emotion. But honestly, every track has its own vibe. Whether he’s playing fast or slow, loud or soft, Mulgrew keeps things interesting without ever overdoing it.
What’s kinda funny is that this album came out in 2010, right before streaming blew up and changed everything. Listening to it now feels like stepping back in time—not just to the year it was released, but also to the golden age of jazz itself. It’s like Mulgrew took all these standards and gave them new life, reminding us why they mattered in the first place.
So yeah, if you haven’t checked out Solo yet, do yourself a favor and give it a spin. Just don’t blame me if you end up spending hours lost in thought, staring at your wall while the music takes over your brain. Oh, and here’s a random thought to leave you with: What would Mulgrew have sounded like covering a pop song? Imagine him doing a solo version of, I dunno, “Uptown Funk.” Now that would’ve been something.
