Jaga Jazzist - Pyramid (LP) - Clear Vinyl

Jaga Jazzist have always felt like a band that builds cities you can walk through. Pyramid, released in 2020 on Flying Lotus’s Brainfeeder label, is one of those rare albums where architecture and atmosphere meet halfway. It’s compact on paper, just four long pieces, but once you put it on you realize they’ve carved out a whole landscape of synths, horns, and grooves that shift like light at dusk.

The opener Tomita wears its homage in the title. You can hear the love for classic Japanese synth innovators in the way arpeggios ripple and refract, but Jaga keep it stubbornly theirs. Lars Horntveth’s guitars and Øystein Moen’s keys sketch out melodies that feel both futuristic and strangely nostalgic, while Martin Horntveth’s drumming has that hydraulic push that keeps the piece moving even as it blossoms into widescreen harmony. Line Horntveth’s tuba shows up like a secret weapon, warming the low end in a way no bass synth quite can. It’s a reminder that Jaga’s palette is still unique, years into their run.

Spiral Era is all momentum. There’s a motorik undercurrent here, the kind of pulse that hints at Neu! but filtered through Jaga’s fondness for jazz voicings and subtle polyrhythm. Vibraphone lines from Andreas Mjøs shimmer on top, and the horns don’t grandstand so much as braid into the fabric. What I love is the patience. They let textures accumulate until you’re floating a few feet off the ground without realizing how you got there.

The Shrine nods to Afrobeat in spirit, and you can hear the spark of Fela’s spiritual home in the way the groove locks and blossoms. Trombonist Erik Johannessen threads strong countermelodies through dense synth pads, and the rhythm section of Even Ormestad and Martin keeps the pocket deep. Jaga have been tagged many things over the years, from nu-jazz to post-rock, but this track makes those borders feel quaint. It’s a band with a long memory having fun with their record collection and their own instincts.

Apex closes the set like a slow ascent. It doesn’t need to shout. It just gathers that familiar Jaga swell, a tide of guitars, synths, horns, and percussion that climbs and then eases, like watching lights turn on one neighborhood at a time. The patience pays off again. Pyramid is only about the length of a classic LP side times two, but the arc it draws is more like a film than a playlist, which is part of its charm.

Brainfeeder turned out to be a smart home for this record. The label is known for artists who blur lines between instrumental music, beat culture, and jazz, and Jaga Jazzist fit right in without changing their DNA. Pyramid arrived five years after Starfire, and you can hear a group that took time to strip things back to intent. The writing feels direct. The production is glowing without being glossy. It sounds like people playing in a room, then painting around those performances with care.

On vinyl, the album opens up. Pyramid vinyl gives each side a long-form statement that breathes, and the wide dynamic range does the crescendos justice. If you’ve been hunting for Jaga Jazzist vinyl that captures the band’s depth without crowding the midrange, this is an easy recommendation. The pressing lets Line’s low brass sit comfortably beneath those glassy synths, and the cymbals have air rather than fizz. It’s also the sort of record you put in a staff-picks bin and watch disappear, because it plays beautifully straight through. If you like to buy Jaga Jazzist records online, look for Brainfeeder’s edition before prices creep up. Folks who collect Jaga Jazzist albums on vinyl know how fast earlier titles vanish.

What sticks with me is how welcoming Pyramid feels. Yes, there are labyrinthine harmonies and clever rhythmic feints, but it never drifts into academic flexing. It’s music that invites you in and shows you around. Longtime fans will recognize the signatures, from the vibraphone sparkle to those tide-like builds, but there’s a new clarity here that suits them. If a friend walked into a Melbourne record store asking where to start with the band, I’d hand them this first, right next to the used copies of One-Armed Bandit. And if you’re browsing for vinyl records Australia-wide and want a modern instrumental record that rewards both casual spins and deep listens, Pyramid is a smart pick.

In a catalog full of high points, Pyramid stands tall. Four pieces, no filler, and a sound that feels both lived-in and forward-looking. It’s the rare album that makes you want to flip it and start again the second the needle hits the runout.