Lis Wessberg : In the Wake of Blue Review

by Steven Miller

Danish trombonist and composer Lis Wessberg has been moving steadily toward a style that pulls contemporary jazz, chamber writing, and song form into the same space without forcing any of them to dominate. On In the Wake of Blue, Veronika Rud joins Wessberg as a featured vocalist to form another melodic voice. Her lines often shadow the trombone, move beside it, or integrate into the ensemble texture altogether.

The record handles motion in a methodical manner. Everything unfolds gradually. Grooves settle in patiently. Harmonic movement stretches out toward obvious release points. The solos seem more interested in extending the mood than breaking away from it.

A lot of that comes from the rhythm section. Jeppe Gram propels the music evenly, even when the band slips into straighter eighth-note grooves or backbeat-oriented feels. The snare stays soft. Cymbals carry a lot of the movement. Lennart Ginman’s bass holds the time feel too while filling around it. The pulse keeps steady so the atmosphere can evolve.

“The Endless Thread” is an example of the album’s pacing. It opens with growing string swells and keyboard pads that blur together before the brushes and bass settle into a relaxed straight-eighth ballad feel. Rud’s singing is rich in timbre, her falsetto rises while Wessberg answers with warm, airy trombone fills between the vocal phrases.

Nothing in the arrangement feels sharply outlined. Rasmussen’s piano leave space, then slide back in with light chromatic movement and soft upper-register fills. The harmony keeps shifting, but slowly enough that you notice the color change before you notice the cadence itself. Near the end of “The Endless Thread,” the strings and keyboards drift into gentle counterpoint while the track slowly exhales instead of resolving cleanly.

“The Quiet Edge” leans even further into that European contemporary jazz feel. Rasmussen opens alone at the piano with spacious voicings and small right-hand figures that feel almost suspended over the pulse. When the brushes enter, they keep time with subtle propulsion. You Wessbarg lean into this texture. Her warm long tone trombone parts align with the soft snare, light cymbal color.

Wessberg’s phrasing on this track says a lot about the album as a whole. She shapes notes with breath-heavy attacks, slow crescendos, glissandos that smear upward into the next phrase. The melody keeps unfolding in long lines, shaped by tone to embrace the harmonic movement.

The piano solo becomes more active, but Ginman stays anchored in half-time while Gram answers the solo with brush accents and cymbal washes rather than louder momentum. Rasmussen’s hands drift against each other in loose counterpoint while the harmony keeps widening and relaxing underneath the line.

That’s true across the whole record, actually. The improvisation almost never feels separated from the arrangement. Solos don’t arrive like announcements. Wessberg tends to build from held tones and small melodic turns instead of active technical runs, and Rasmussen shapes phrases in these gradual arcs that rise, pause, and settle back into the texture.

“Flux” in the album turning to a groove flow, but it stays surprisingly restrained. The motion is sustained by the drums while the bass holds a spacious half-time figure with it. Little bits of bossa motion inform the groove. Each section emerges without from the next. But even there, the band never overplays the transitions. The atmosphere is further developed by Wessberg melodic shapes.

“Vapor” strips the pacing down even further. The open bass movement drifts across the stereo field while keyboards sustain long ambient chords underneath the trombone. Wessberg stays mostly in the upper register here, using breath and dynamic shading to stretch the phrases across the slow 8/4 feel.

Midway through, Gram increases the activity with rolling snare figures and tom movement while the keyboards slowly climb upward harmonically. The energy rises, hangs there briefly, then folds back into the ensemble sound.

“The Promise” balances airy wordless vocals, lightly walking waltz bass, and soft string swells without crowding the arrangement. “When Birds Flock” layers vocal doubling, rippling keyboard figures, and a straight-eighth backbeat into something driven more by color and blend than harmonic tension. The title track glides with relaxed vocal phrasing and warm trombone lines that sit just behind the beat.

In the Wake of Blue presents an ensemble that keeps listening carefully to itself. The vocal and trombone frontline adds to the compositions. Piano, bass and drums create texture and harmonic movement to develop atmosphere. The music just keeps everything flowing together as a unification of composition, groove, improvisation, tone color, and pulse.

In the Wake of Blue embodies a European/Scandinavian contemporary jazz aesthetic through its compositional pacing, chamber-informed ensemble balance, softened structural boundaries, and improvisational restraint.