Music Miscellany 11: What has passed by, touching us quietly—Roy Hargrove's 'Speak Low'

There is a stillness in this performance, something that feels almost untouchable.
The notes do not push forward too much, nor do they fade away completely; they unravel into the air, leaving behind a slight margin.

In that margin, at unexpected moments, memories overlap.
Without even trying to recall them, the light of childhood, the presence of someone I can no longer meet, and the air of a distant place rise up quietly.

It is as if things that were inside me are gently surfacing.

Hargrove's sound does not try to fill everything.
Phrases are not fully stated; they are let go somewhere along the way.
That 'insufficiency' does not strangely become a void, but rather creates a soft space for accepting something.

The idea he cherished, that 'the more abstract it is, the closer it gets to understanding,' breathes within this performance.

Not giving it meaning.
Not pinning it down.

Through that quiet choice, the music stops closing itself off and gently opens up into each listener.

And this 'way of opening' does not stop within his own performances.
At the time, Hargrove continued to provide many opportunities to young musicians like Robert Glasper within his own bands and works.

Perhaps what he was doing was not teaching them something, but giving each player discretion and offering a space where sound could be born.

Not deciding everything.
Not filling it all up.

Within that space, other players find their own sounds. That accumulation eventually spreads beyond the music itself.

I think it was in his later years that I began to listen to his sound earnestly. Before long, he passed away, and the brevity of that time left me with a feeling of being left behind.

However, the sound of Robert Glasper, which I encountered after that, settled into my body with strange naturalness.

That was likely no coincidence. The margin Hargrove left behind continues to flow into his music in a different form.

This song does not stay within a single emotion.
At times it is nostalgia, at times it is pain, and at other times, it simply resonates calmly.

The self at that moment is reflected there.

Hargrove gently offers a space for something to be born.

In that space, we touch the time that has passed, and without reclaiming what was lost, we simply accept it quietly.

Even after the music ends, only something like the warmth of that touch remains for a while.

It cannot be put into words.
But the feeling that something was certainly there sinks gently and quietly into the depths of the heart.