“I feel that rhythm is the primordial and perhaps essential part of music; I think it most likely existed before melody and harmony; and in fact I have a secret preference for this element,” said Olivier Messiaen, in whose compositions this element mostly plays a negligible role. Yet he too sensed the processes underway in the wider musical milieu: a defining trait of modern art during the twentieth century, and thus of music too, was to direct attention to the constituent elements and procedures, and to its own media. Analysis and reflectivity became part of the works, and increasingly diverged both from the experience of sound, and from performance practice. Thus a mass of musical works came into being in which there is a lack of such elemental, indispensable components as rhythm, melody, or harmony.
Simultaneously, in parallel with the development of “contemporary” music, a new branch of “light” music flourished, jazz, which gave space to a fundamental characteristic: that of play. This music is not constructed; it is played, the musicians joyfully give space to it, and allow the dynamic inherent in the succession of notes to flourish. Instead of wanting at all costs to enforce the invented creative principles and methods of musical architectures, they submit to the contingencies of the moment, to influences from various different sources, to a prompting different to the tried and tested patterns, and to the broad possibilities of improvisation. To the steadily growing influx of “exotic”, tribal and ethnomusical influences, and also to the diversity of their instruments and the way they are played. In jazz, there is no doubt that the prime and essential element of music is rhythm. That is why it became the main field for the use and development of rhythmic instruments, where for the first time, the most complex range of tools was available to percussionists – after all, “Jazz drumming has no precedent in music history” (Stanley Crouch). For a long time, the rhythm section provided the background for solo instruments, but gradually the background moved into the foreground, and sometimes became the focus. 
Rhythm is a prime and essential part of the music of the Jü trio; among its sources, variants of the genetic African pulsation are just as notable as the flow of free jazz, and the ecstatic beats of noise rock and ambient. With them, inventive musical ideas, flashes of melody, fall into a framework of changing rhythms; the ranges of notes and rivers of overtones played are heard in a different light, and can turn into a boundless sound. Thus it can be said of their playing that “what we hear from this trio has no precedent in Hungarian jazz” (Zoltán Végső).
Like their previous CD (which was a kind of “West African CD from the twenty-third century”), of this too one could say: though they might not sound like instrumentalists of an African ethnic group yet to be, with them the Afrobeat is not just a colour, or a distant precedent, but a dominant sound. Without stylistic constraints, typical of these performers is that the way they play points beyond the traditional treatment of instruments, where playfulness goes hand in hand with the inspiring power of possibilities. In the playing of the members of the trio both individually and as an ensemble, one feels they have experience of many styles, and have worked deeply with others, and in other lineups, to make music together. And they have allowed influences to leave their mark: further forming, shaping, and developing the original motifs.
This can be heard in the piece Vedd le! where they take each of its constituent elements in turn, interpreting them in a broadened framework of understanding, investigating its rhythmic motifs, from jazz rock to folk music, at times with euphoric zeal, or slow and lyrical, or playing repetitive series. Meanwhile on the web of rhythm, in the distance, the big solo of the drummer from Iron Butterfly, In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, swims into view.
This also happens in a reference to Barre Phillips, great master of the double bass, who gave lasting lessons on the mobility of melody, on having a sufficient sense of harmony and rhythm, and on how to give impetus by keeping time.
The piece that refers to his last album is a commemoration: like the fading sound of a bouncing ball, the fading out of the beating of the drum in recurrent variations refers to the arc of time. The beginning and the end. And the arc that springs between them, which, when plucked, emanates waves that multiply, are dispersed, and reflected back. They merge into one another, creating new ones, and finally die down.
The free jazz on this CD is free music in the broadest of senses: where neither rules nor customs are enforced; an impish, wondrous delight in sounds and notes, playing with the opportunities afforded by the instruments. Where through rhythmic shifts, decelerations generating tension, and resolutions, the mobile arc of musical time emerges.
It may be that listeners “sit in a rocking chair looking towards the hills, watching the Sun setting and hearing their own symphony, which is none other than the sound events in the surrounding air” (Charles Ives). And if they contemplate dusk for long enough, and they want to refresh their senses, then Jü’s music provides the right dynamic for this.

J. A. Tillmann
Translated by Richard Robinson


JÜ was formed in Budapest in 2012 by founding members Ádám Mészáros on guitar (Qiyan, Erik Sumo, Tariqa), Ernő Hock on bass (The Qualitons, Zuboly, Dresch Quartet) and, initially, András Halmos on drums (Kampec Dolores, Tariqa, Gábor Gadó Quintet).
Over the past decade, the band has developed a unique and innovative sound, combining the freedom of free and avant-garde jazz, the momentum of post- and noise rock, experimental noise music, and various folk music influences. Their instrumental compositions are dynamic and multi-layered, with collective improvisation being one of the main guiding principles in their creative endeavor.
Their concerts are particularly intense, and the listener can feel like an active participant in the musical process, as this extremely energetic and vibrant stream of sound requires both physical and mental involvement.
Their first three albums, released by London-based RareNoise Records, established JÜ’s international reputation, leading to festival and club appearances throughout Europe and beyond, such as the Ljubljana Jazz Festival, the Saalfelden Jazz Festival, the Cairo Jazz Festival, the Nasjonal Jazzscene (Oslo), and the Vortex in London.
In 2022, there was a significant change in the life of the band: András Halmos left and was replaced by Szilveszter Miklós (Rezervatum Orchestra, GreMi, AMP, Grencsó Collective, Trio Kontraszt). Szilveszter’s character and playing technique have already been integrated into the trio’s world during concerts, and can also be heard for the first time on this fourth studio album. “When we were faced with having to fill the drummer position, it wasn’t easy, because from the beginning we wanted to explore new paths that none of us had taken before. It was difficult to imagine that after ten years we would find someone who wouldn’t just follow in our footsteps, trying to fill a void, but who could take the band to a new level and serve as a breath of fresh air. We very quickly came to the conclusion that it would be worth asking Szilveszter to give it a try.” Szilveszter’s response was clear: “It was a very exhilarating feeling from the very first rehearsals that there were no questions, we understood each other and we wanted to go in the same direction. Another important thing, which I always forget, is that I should bring a change of T-shirt to concerts. It feels really good to play music that makes you feel physically like you’ve accomplished something.”
All three believe that what took shape in concerts in this trio formation has been successfully transferred to studio conditions, so the album clearly marks the beginning of a new era in the life of JÜ. They continue to push genre boundaries, while their most characteristic trademarks – atmospheric textures, energetic rhythms, noisy collages, and meditative moments – are all present. Each composition reveals a unique world in which silence and noise, slowly unfolding extensions and explosive parts, alternate, constantly underlining that JÜ’s music is not only audible but can also be felt with our whole being. “Basically, we don’t play free music; improvisation plays a very significant role, but it has its limits. The language that developed in the first ten years, how we shape the composed parts with the improvised ones, is much more structured music. This also exists in the moment – perhaps less so than in free improvisation – so that surprising things happen to us too, and we don’t sink into some kind of routine. This kind of freedom is the essence of JÜ.”
The fourth album focuses heavily on interaction and the return of live energy. According to the band, the most exciting thing about playing together is that during the improvised parts, they find themselves in places and situations that cannot be predicted in advance. “This is not a concept album, there was no grand pondering behind the songs and the whole thing, these are impressions, individual moods that are then worked out and matured. But not over-matured, so their roughness and rawness remain intact. Anyway, there’s no need to over-explain what one of the band’s important roots is, because it’s folk music: the songs originate from it. No matter how we approach simpler or more complex ideas, it’s always there in the back of our minds. The aesthetic part, of course, is that the way this band sounds is more like a power trio with distorted guitars. It’s important to note that we don’t want to play rock or metal music; the way the songs sound is very much an aesthetic decision.” 

Mihály Rácz