Tiefenträume by Steffen Schorn Septet – A Jazz Journey That Sticks
Alright, let’s talk about Tiefenträume. Released in 2015 on Pure Audio Records, this album is one of those jazz projects that sneaks up on you. It's not flashy or loud—no over-the-top solos trying to steal the show—but it feels like sitting by a fire with old friends who know how to tell great stories without saying too much. The sound? Deep, layered, and unmistakably German. You can hear the care in every note.
Steffen Schorn doesn’t just play baritone saxophone; he lives through it here. And when he sings (yes, he uses his voice too), it adds this raw edge that makes you sit up straight. But what really sells this record are the tracks themselves—they’re built like little worlds you can step into for five minutes at a time.
Take “Dantie’s Dance,” for example. This track sticks because it sways. It doesn’t rush, but it never drags either. There’s Dirk Mündelein’s guitar weaving around Hubert Nuss’s piano like they’re having their own private conversation while Holger Nell keeps things grounded on drums. Then there’s Roger Hanschel’s alto sax—it cuts through everything else like sunlight breaking through clouds. I swear, if you listen closely enough, it almost feels like dancing barefoot on cool grass. Yeah, it’s that kind of vibe.
And then there’s “Tiefenträume,” the title track. Man, this one hits different. Henning Sieverts’ cello gives it weight, pulling you down into these deep emotional currents before Wolf Kerschek’s vibraphone lifts you back up again. It’s moody, sure, but also hopeful in a weird way. Like waking up from a dream where you were falling but somehow landed softly. That mix of tension and release? Perfectly balanced.
The whole thing was recorded by Markus Spatz, and dude deserves props. Every instrument breathes, even in quieter moments. Christoph Stickel mastered it, so no surprise it sounds crisp yet warm—like your favorite sweater after a long winter.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Tiefenträume made me realize how rare it is to find music that trusts silence as much as sound. Most albums today feel like someone shouting to fill space. Not this one. These guys let notes hang in the air, giving you room to think—or maybe just breathe.
So yeah, this isn’t gonna be everyone’s cup of tea. If you’re looking for flashy riffs or instant gratification, keep scrolling. But if you want something thoughtful, haunting, and kinda beautiful in its imperfections… well, give Tiefenträume a shot. Honestly, it reminded me why I fell in love with jazz in the first place: it’s human. Flawed, real, and still magical.
Oh, and fun fact? Listening to this album somehow convinced me to water my plants more often. Go figure.
