(Credits: Far Out / Enji)

THE SKINNY: It has been seven years since Erkhembayar Enkhjargal introduced the world to her unique brand of jazz, borrowing heavily from the inspiration of the traditional folk music of her native Mongolia. During that time, the musician – better known by her stagename Enji – has developed her sonic repertoire tenfold, culminating in the diverse yet often understated new record, Sonor, which takes on a wealth of different influences, and calls upon an expansive team of musicians to create the overarching narrative envisioned by the composer.

That narrative vision becomes clear almost immediately upon listening to Sonor. From the first notes of the opening track, ‘Hungun,’ Enji expertly crafts an atmosphere of nature and pastoral imagery, employing gentle instrumentation and her typically captivating vocal delivery. Aside from brief darts into noticeably different areas of the musical landscape, such as the unsuspectingly upbeat offerings of ‘Eejiinhee Hairaar,’ this naturalistic narrative builds throughout the track listing.

Although that narrative provides a gentle, almost meditative listening experience, demanding of a high-quality hi-fi setup or, at the very least, high-quality headphones, the album has few truly captivating moments. It flows effortlessly from one track to another, with Enji’s undeniably compelling vocals accompanied by a mutlitude of talented musicians, including the likes of Elias Stemeseder on keys and Robert Landfermann on double bass, but the meditative, naturalistic quality of the record often precludes it from delving into the exciting jazz experimentation it so often hints at.

For instance, spoken-word sections appear on tracks like ‘Neke’ and ‘Unadag Dugui’, but these short tracks do not allow for enough time to develop or expand upon those ideas before moving swiftly on. These moments are somewhat underwhelming as a result, although they do not detract from the flowing narrative of the record, which renders it an excellent choice as a meditative listening experience or even as background music.

An unparalleled highlight from the album is the penultimate track, ‘Old Folks’. A magnificent eight-minute triumph, the composition is adept at capturing the inventive quality and profound musical exploration at the heart of Enji’s performance. However, its position at the end of the track listing seems misguided. As one of – if not the – most expansive, compelling track on the album, it sounds as though it should have been the focal point, rather than the conclusion. Still, Sonor certainly does not sully Enji’s incredible discography, adding multiple new layers to the composer’s ever-expanding repertoire. 

For fans of: Film cameras, corduroy baseball caps, and being reprimanded for taking photographs in an art gallery.

A concluding comment from a jazz purist: “I listen to jazz for the same reason as everybody else: energetic and off-beat ten-minute trumpet solos. Yet here I sit, deprived of those trumpet solos and with my emotional state in absolute tatters. Thanks, Enji!” 

Sonor track by track:

Release date: May 2nd | Producer: Martin Brugger | Label: Squama

‘Hungun’: Understated instrumentation and gentle imagery provide an inviting introduction to this album, with Enji’s warming vocals setting the tone for the rest of the album. Matthieu Bordenave’s soprano saxophone stylings further add to the naturalistic atmosphere of the song, too. [4/5]

‘Ulbar’: Ulbar is a word used by the Hausa people of West Africa, meaning ‘apple’ and, while it is not overtly clear whether this was a deliberate choice by Enji, the resulting track is imbued with a bright kind of freshness befitting of the fruit. [3/5]

‘Ergelt’: Perfectly showcasing the range and emotional weight of Enji’s vocal abilities, this low-key effort, accompanied by a particularly impressive performance by Robert Landfermann on the double bass, is one of the stand-out moments on this record. [4/5]

‘Unadag Dugui’: Opening into a spoken word section, instrumentation is gradually introduced, and Enji’s singing voice returns towards the latter half of the track. Frustratingly, it does feel as though it has so much more to offer than its two-and-a-half-minute runtime. [3.5/5]

‘Ger Hol’: Hushed vocals are blended with sporadic and occasionally harsh industrial tones to give this song a much more diverse and intriguing atmosphere than other efforts on the album. Its quivering piano and suspenseful performance give the track a dark yet concluding feeling. [3.5/5]

‘Eejiinhee Hairaar’: Adopting a lighter theme, the mid-point of this album comes with something of a stylistic rebirth. In addition to Enji’s roots in Mongolian folk and jazz, this song also bears relation to light-and-breezy mod jazz and South American rhythms, adding to the seemingly endless repertoire of the songwriter. [4/5]

‘Zuirmegleh’: Existing somewhere between a mid-century late-night jazz bar and the soundtrack of a dark and moody Nordic noir series, ‘Zuirmegleh’ is an ever-changing effort which continues the overarching narrative of the record, albeit without introducing anything too drastically different from previous tracks. [3/5]

‘Much’: Speaking to the flowing, narrative nature of the album, this song could very easily have been tacked on to the previous; if you were listening to Sonor on a physical medium, I’d venture to say you might not even notice that one track has ended and another has begun. [3/5]

‘Neke’: Revisiting the intriguing spoken word of ‘Unadag Dugui’, this effort also feels as if it is somewhat underdeveloped, deserving of more attention and instrumentation than its two-minute runtime allows. It is unclear if these shorter tracks are meant as simple interludes, as they are too short to offer any developed substance, but too long to be simply transitional. [2.5/5]

‘Old Folks’: By far the longest composition included on this album, ‘Old Folks’ is also among Enji’s most intriguing. Flowing magnificently from one place to another, it seems bizarre not to have made this ambitious effort the focal point of the entire record. [4.5/5]

‘Bayar Tai’: Closing out the record with another relatively short effort which follows much the same gentle atmosphere as earlier inclusions on the album, Enji succeeds in creating a sense of cohesion throughout the record, although a late-stage triumph of inventive sonic exploration would not have been unwelcome. [3/5]