My understanding of free jazz is that it is a subversive form of music, a vessel for boundless experimentation in which rules are broken, and conventional structures are deliberately impaired or rebuilt to tap into something wholly new. With that in mind, the Montreal-based quartet Bellbird are as free and unfettered as a bird, taking flight in a way that unshackles them from any notion of being tied to a rule book or a routine. The personnel are Allison Burik on alto sax and bass clarinet, Claire Devlin on tenor sax, Eli Davidovici (great jazz name that) on bass and Mili Hong on drums. Bellbird admit that they have “strayed pretty far away from the traditional jazz band”, but the disregard for tradition goes further than that. Brass and wind instruments are often thought of as the leads in similar configurations, with the bass and drums holding down a bottom end and laying out a solid backbone for soloists to bounce off. This band, on the other hand, turn such presumptions upside down, with the rhythm section dictating form while the actual tempo and sonic character are taken care of by the horns.
Initially inspired by an improvisation scene that had sprung out of a bohemian-style basement café in Montreal called Café Resonance. During the pandemic that community was forced into the open air with socially distanced park jams taking place, it was here that the quartet first played together. The collective was cemented as a unit after receiving an invitation to play the 2021 Ottawa Jazz Festival, and they have remained operational ever since, connecting as players who can unite to form a natural whole in the process. Following on from a self-released debut in 2023 entitled ‘Root In Tandem,’ they now find themselves on Constellation, having created this deep, mesmeric, and engaging follow-up, ‘The Call.’ We open with Blowing On Embers, a slow-burning beginning ushered in by exploratory bass plucks that cherry-pick, initially seemingly at random, a selection of notes, which are then juggled into a shapely groove. The brass that follows is deliciously melodic at its outset; it is only as the flames take hold that the kindling structure which set the fire alight starts to collapse in on itself as any notion of form is abandoned when the wind catches. This is where Bellbird are strong, because even as they take their jazz spark and run with carefree abandon, they never lose or drop the listener; this is music that carries us along even as it charges into uncharted territory. Free jazz need not be as difficult as its reputation suggests.
The title track is an incredible six-plus-minute flight, based on the bird from which the band took their name. The clever audio trick they have stitched into the music for this delightful piece replicates the sound a white bellbird makes when it calls. The musicians have studied the pattern of its cry and incorporated it into the tune’s composition. And even though you can clearly hear this, it still fits and enhances the themed composition, pitching the track between imitation and celebration. Maybe, too, the absence of an instrument like a guitar or piano helps expand the playing options, for there is a looser texture to the way these numbers evolve, unleashing themselves from chord patterns that ultimately can hold exploration down. Once again, though, even when Bellbird have fun in the studio environment by seeing what slabs of metallic noise can do, bowing the bass or cutting loose on the multiphonics, there is a musical ear to the quartet that cannot be denied. Every track features juicy melodies and audio patterns that are pleasing to the ears. They even retreat into something akin to simplicity on Phthalo Green, then on the album closer Mourning Dove, the breathtaking potential of Bellbird can be heard. It could be argued that performing an explosive demolition is the easy part; it is when a band can respect the process and instinctively hear that a natural, musically straightforward pleasure has been uncovered with untapped potential that the raw talent comes into view. Bellbird can do this and appear to have launched themselves on a flight that sounds rather timeless indeed.
The Call (February 6th, 2026) Constellation (CST190180gLP / CD / DL)