David Dower Trio: Big in Bulgaria
The members of David Dower Trio hail from Australia and the United Kingdom, so how did they end up so enamoured by the distant Balkan nation of Bulgaria? It might have started on a whim, but as their relationship with the nation deepens, that passionate bond is intertwining with the group’s musical identity.
Could you find Bulgaria on an unmarked globe?
It’s certainly not a slight: Bulgaria has been kicking for longer than most, with the region playing host to Stone Age civilisations, Roman rule, Byzantine dominion, two Bulgar-helmed empires and centuries of Ottoman control. In the early 20th century, the then-principality split from the Ottoman Empire, throwing itself into nationhood in the midst of a regional powderkeg. After the Second World War, the country was swallowed by the Soviet Union and incorporated into the Eastern Bloc, the single-party state enduring until 1991, when Bulgaria became a democracy. It’s so much more complex than that – and in that complexity, there’s nuance I can’t even begin to understand – but for all that turmoil, Bulgaria’s fascinating history isn’t really represented in day-to-day familiarity. I definitely didn’t have an edge: I mean, how much do you think I knew before I became wise to David Dower?
I’ve known David Dower, at least in passing, for longer than I could really remember. I imagine it was right around the start of high school that he became a larger-than-life figure, a mentor to my musically-inclined friends and prodigious presence in the halls of the music school. He introduced my friends to Ben Folds Five, indirectly helping define my teenage taste, and his trademark vim and vigour was a rare but welcome sight. I’d see him infrequently after I graduated and, at some point, I heard he’d headed to the UK. Years passed.
Eventually, he returned, tales in tow. In the time he’d been gone, he’d developed an affinity for not only bassist Luke Fowler and drummer Matt Fisher, who make up David Dower Trio, but with the Balkan nation of Bulgaria. It all came about in a moment of inspiration: having learned a Bulgarian song, the Trio decided to email some Bulgarian venues on a whim, and a handful of overnight replies stoked interest from both the band and the far-flung musical community. One thing led to another, as they so often do, and the Trio touched down in 2017. It was, in the words of another famed expatriate, “the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Their debut EP, 2018’s Made In Sofia, was just that, recorded at the city’s own Pekarnata Studios. The cover features an inset drawing of Cathedral St Aleksander Nevski, amongst the most striking of Sofia’s many religious bastions, and both the title and the musicians’ roles are styled in Bulgaria’s distinctive cyrillic type. The 24-minute runtime, rivalling that of some self-anointed LPs, is divided between just four tracks, each slowly building into their inspired cadences and curious directions.
“Mamma Mia,” the Trio’s six-minute rendition of ABBA’s pop standard, opens with startling restraint, gently ushering the audience into a familiar, soft-spoken melody before pushing into a syncopated chorus and a silky smooth, if short lived, resolution. “Susan’s Song” is more patient, the seven minutes exhibiting everything from Dower’s songwriting prowess to Fowler’s bass talents and Fisher’s tight drumming. Then there’s the interplay of the three, a full-bodied and emotive sound that betrays the simplicity of the three-man setup, speaking to the way a rapport can flip a great song into a great experience.
If the closer, “Theme For ‘An Average Western’,” sounds well in line with Dower’s sense of humour, it’s a surprisingly earnest and melodic capstone on the short-but-sweet EP. There’s an optimism to it, and the deft drumming underpins starring moments for each of the three musicians. Fowler’s bass takes centre stage for a time, Fisher’s drums ebb and flow as they share space with Dower’s piano, the focus shifting from one moment to the next. “Average” though it may be, I’d pay the price of admission – so too would this audience in Plovdiv.
Made In Sofia seems true in more ways than one – though it’s hardly true of the outfit, the Trio certainly found something of themselves in the Bulgarian capital. On the release of their debut album, There Are No Stars, it falls as something of a mission statement. If their first effort was assembled in a Bulgarian studio, their first full-length, recorded during their third tour in 2019, was shaped by the country, the city, the culture and the people.
It’s clear from “Leto Ide,” the opener, that the album breaks new ground: the Trio incorporate the voices of Rayna Vasileva and her Bulgarian Choir, with Bulgarian lyrics penned by their publicist Mariana Vasileva. The titular refrain – “summer is coming” – evolves from a foreboding lilt to a familiar crescendo, fusing elements of both classic Bulgarian and conventionally Western music traditions. Fisher even incorporates the South Indian Kanjira into the open, a subtle and restrained use of another international sound.
“Take On Me,” the omnipresent A-ha hit, finds new life at the hands of the Trio, who flip a synth-laden slice of Scandinavian pop into a curiously complicated piece of jazz. In the same spirit as his “Mamma Mia” cover, a take on another Scandinavian mainstay, Dower has fun playing with that assured familiarity, juxtaposing bombast with reservation as he lets the piano give voice to the call-and-response refrain.
“There Are No Stars,” the longest cut on the like-titled album, is a dedication to the late Elliott Smith. There are a handful of those out there – think of “Late” by Ben Folds, a fellow piano-bass-drum trio leader – but this is certainly the only one featuring a beautiful Kaval lead, courtesy of Zhiko Vasilev. Dower waxes poetic of his improvised solo, “a showcase of dexterity and musicality... flying lines brought together with thoughtful, expressive phrasing.”
The fusion of Bulgarian tradition and Western tenets strikes an interesting balance on “The Painter,” a forlorn tale which showcases Dower’s English language lyrics from Bulgarian-born and Berklee-educated jazz singer, Vesela Morova. If Dower’s subtle backing vocals represent another adventurous change, it’s “Redmond,” another instrumental piece, that pushes that spirit to the forefront. It’s a track steeped in the vibrant greens of the Pacific Northwest, named for the city where Dower’s brother lives, and the freewheeling spirit brings out a record-best solo from Fowler on bass. It’s the piano that pushes the track from delicate bass solo to Ben Folds Five, a fuzzy and anthemic conclusion soaring in on a wayward bass hit.
All at once the dark horse and the black sheep, “Purple Haired Lady” is as much a standout moment as an outcast of a track. There’s no delicate tinkering to usher you into the groove here, as Dower’s harsh hits kickstart a propulsive detour. Zhivko Vasilev is back on the Kaval, more menacing and mysterious, and guitarist Elliot Frost, an Australian by way of London, laces the Balkan flute with a cosmic aura.
One of the most beautiful moments of the entire record arrives at the close, with the soaring, wordless vocals of Vesela Morova unveiling “Moyata Sestra,” a Dower-penned dedication to his younger sister. It gives way to his most unencumbered solo, a delicate testament to both her musical talents and his brotherly love. The depth of their rapport – “telepathy,” as Dower has described it – has been explored over the last thirty minutes, and if “Moyata Sestra” shows anything, it’s how much the Trio can achieve even when they’re clinging to restraint. It’s a powerful affirmation of their collaborators, too, predominantly Bulgarian musicians who imbue the project with an earnest sense of belonging. There Are No Stars could just as easily been titled Made In Sofia, though perhaps Made By Sofia would be a better fit: the musical talent, fostered over decades and accrued across the globe, has found a place amongst the rich culture of Bulgaria.
In approaching the art of other cultures, there’s always much to be considered. If there’s anything that strikes me about There Are No Stars, it’s just how personal the record is, both in subject and style. David Dower, Luke Fowler and Matt Fisher might have ended up in the country on a whim, but that whim unearthed a real, profound and unexpected connection.
The album leaves no doubt: arrivals are parsed in Bulgarian phrases, complete with the region’s typically odd time signatures; dedications to idols and influences are voiced in the mournful tones of the Kaval; odes to his sister are intertwined with Bulgarian vocal traditions; even dirty blues-infused jams are laden with sounds endemic to the unassuming nation. It’s not merely some stylistic overlay or tacked-on filter – these tracks are the product of deep understanding and appreciation, manifest in those distinctive cadences, the soft-spokenness of the Kaval, the Bulgarian lyricism and the artists involved. Bulgaria is in the very essence of the record.
There Are No Stars was recorded amidst the group’s third Bulgarian tour in as many years, and whilst some artists might abandon familiarity for some new, exotic palette, David Dower Trio feel like a group exploring their element. They’ve another tour of the country this year, building on their ever-expanding roster – the last trip yielded eleven gigs and two festivals, no mean feat – and Dower himself is returning to support Vesela Morova on her own spate of shows. It’s bigger than just a record, bigger than just a sound: music is about friendship, communication, dialogue and creativity, and in journeying halfway across the world to play with his collaborators at their own shows, Dower’s putting passion into practice.
Zhiko Vasilev and Rayna Vasileva, featured musicians and co-founders of the Outhentic Foundation, have devoted themselves to the propagation and proliferation of Bulgarian music traditions. Their aims speak to the transformative power of culture and the need for sustained interest in regional artforms, and their mission to parse those traditions in “an accessible and attractive way that can be easily understood and appreciated by young audiences” has found a passionate allies in Dower, Fowler and Fisher.
It really is a fantastic time to be a fan of jazz, with the confines of traditionalism an increasingly irrelevant consideration. The UK is a global epicentre of contemporary jazz, a genre breaking from the yoke of tradition and incorporating London’s rich and diverse cultural makeup, and it’s no surprise that a group as adventurous and dynamic as David Dower Trio emerged from such a setting.
The three musicians have found form, friendship, fraternity in Bulgaria, and if their schedule is anything to go by, it’s only just the start.
