If there were ever such a thing as a rainy day album, Elise is it. This album took a while to come to our attention, as it is performed by a Norwegian jazz duo and released on a Swedish label; but it is certainly worth discovering now.Håkon Kornstad (sax) and Ingebrigt Håker Flaten (bass) have each been recording for a while, and Kornstad just completed a brief tour of New York, following lavish praise from Time Out and The Village Voice. This album, based on a psalmbook owned by Flaten’s grandmother, was recorded in a castle and captures the structure’s regal, moisture-dripped sound.

The interplay between the sax and bass seems instinctual, as if the duo were capable of predicting each other’s improvisations. At times, one or the other takes center stage; on the title piece, the saxophone is massicated in such a way as to suggest a reverb-drenched guitar. Percussion is suggested through the snapping of fingers and the slapping of bass. Because of such experimentation in timbre, the duo can often fool the listener into believing that an additional instrument is present, as Strangers Die Every Day did on last year’s full-length debut. Also pleasing is the breadth of dynamic contrast, a rarity in modern recording – largely the result of the silences between notes.

Surprisingly, the album begins with an a cappella vocal track, the one-minute “Ak Mon Jeg Staar I Naade”, before entering into an eight-minute instrumental take on the same piece. This juxtaposition works to establish a relationship between the staid (yet captivating) and improvised, as repeated listens are necessary in order to make a connection between the two versions. While this initial pairing begins in reverence, the album slowly progresses toward the carefree and experimental, in the same way as a modern reader might branch out from traditional interpretations of the Psalms to more relevant, even playful readings. Not that the playing is ever out-of-control; the duo simply have a blast riffing.

So why do I call Elise the perfect rainy day album? There’s no particular ethnic sound to the proceedings, despite their pedigree; listening feels like sitting outside in a café, underneath an awning, watching the rain come down. The languid notes of the saxophone are as comforting as the sound of showers on windowpanes, and make one feel happy to be safe and dry; while the disingenuously winking bass is like a perpetual invitation to revel in the raindrops and play in the puddles. Either way, the listener gains a feeling of contentment. This album is not just for jazz fans, but for fans of the assured, accomplished and graceful.Elise is the sound of quiet encouragement, of love notes slipped into pockets, of umbrellas opened and closed: the sound of welcome, heart-filling rain.

-Richard Allen