Monicanord by Tritorn: A Jazz Odyssey That’ll Make You Go “Huh, Cool”
Alright, let’s dive into Monicanord, the 2001 jazz gem from Germany’s own Tritorn. Released under KlangRäume (a label name that sounds like a wizard’s spellbook), this album is a wild ride through Contemporary Jazz territory. It’s got basslines that could anchor a ship, piano riffs smooth enough to butter toast, and some truly head-scratching moments of creativity. And no, I’m not just saying that because Niko Meinhold plays both piano and melodica—though props to him for multitasking like a champ.
The Tracks That Stuck
First up, there’s “Monica Nord.” If you’ve ever wondered what it’d sound like if your morning coffee had its own soundtrack, this is it. The track starts off with Sven Hinse laying down some groovy basslines so deep they might as well be spelunking in a cave. Then Anke Jochmaring chimes in with her voice, which is equal parts sultry and mysterious, like she’s whispering secrets only you can hear. By the time Niko’s electronics kick in, you’re fully submerged in this dreamy sonic world where time doesn’t exist—or at least, you don’t care anymore. Honestly, after listening to this one, I wanted to call everyone I know Monica just to feel cool.
Then we’ve got “Sweet Little Melody With An Angry Ending,” which is exactly what it says on the tin—and then some. This tune lulls you into a false sense of security with its innocent little melody, all soft and sweet like a kitten purring on your lap. But oh boy, does it take a sharp left turn about halfway through! Suddenly, it’s like the band remembered they were making a jazz album and decided to throw out the rulebook. Things get chaotic, bold, and borderline unhinged—but in the best way possible. It’s like watching someone politely sip tea and then suddenly flip the table over. Respect.
Why Should You Care?
What makes Monicanord stand out isn’t just the talent behind it—it’s how playful and unapologetically experimental it feels. Sure, it has standards like “My Ship” and “Afro Blue,” but even those tracks are given fresh coats of paint thanks to the crew’s inventive approach. Klaus Krüger’s engineering deserves a shout-out here too; every note is crisp, every beat hits just right, and nothing gets lost in the mix. Meanwhile, Sandra Prengel’s photography probably made the album cover look artsy enough to belong in a gallery (though who knows, maybe I’m biased).
And let’s not forget Ulf Drechsel, the producer pulling strings like a musical puppet master. Without him, this whole project might’ve collapsed under the weight of its own ambition. Instead, it soars—occasionally veering off course, sure, but always landing somewhere interesting.
Final Thoughts
So, would I recommend Monicanord? Absolutely. Is it perfect? Nah, but that’s kind of the point. It’s messy in places, daring in others, and utterly human throughout. Listening to it feels less like consuming art and more like eavesdropping on a bunch of insanely talented friends jamming late at night.
Oh, and fun fact: apparently “Das Lied Von Den 2 Hasen” translates to “The Song About Two Rabbits.” Now imagine explaining that to someone while trying to convince them to listen to a jazz album. You’re welcome.
Rating: 8/10 – because sometimes imperfection is perfection. Or something poetic like that. Whatever, just press play already.
