By Bob Doerschuk | Published September 2017
I’m not even done listening to this album—three tracks to go as I write this—yet already I’m giving Get Up And Go the stellar rating it deserves. Neselovskyi is a rare artist even at this early, post-Berklee stage of his career: technically assured as both pianist and composer and, more important, already in possession of a distinctive vision.
His music is complex, often studded with metrical hiccups that he and his trio negotiate with a dizzying aplomb. Yet it’s also accessible: On “Who Is It?” an aggressive motif, played solo on piano at the top, gives listeners something to hang onto as it powers through the shifting time.
The same thing happens with the opening cut, “On A Bicycle,” whose foundation and momentum derive from a 16th-note ostinato that runs through most of the tune, breathing dimension into the momentum it creates.
Another thing about “On A Bicycle,” “San Felio” and several other tracks: though sophisticated if not complicated in their structure, the impression they make is fundamentally emotional, even joyful. In contrast, as the title suggests, “Winter” is deep and still. The opening piano figure offers a promise of optimism, like the tinkle of a music box. But then Dan Loomis’ arco bass pulls us back to a wider perspective—open, cold, even a little bleak, yet also beautiful.
On the album’s final song, Sara Serpa’s wordless vocal animates a kind of hushed wonder. These last moments confirm what the earliest ones suggested: Get Up And Go is a marvel.
Get Up And Go: On A Bicycle; Winter; San Felio; Station Taiga; Who Is It?; Krai; Interlude I; Prelude For Vibes; Get Up And Go; Interlude II; Almost December. (58:41)
Personnel: Vadim Neselovskyi, piano, melodica; Dan Loomis, bass; Ronen Itzik, drums, percussion; Sara Serpa, vocals (4, 11).