In 1980, Pat Metheny had already garnered an impressive level of popularity. With sold out tours and their consequential album sales, the guitarist had imposed upon the scene a sound and style which was already being adopted by others. And under the banner of the Pat Metheny Group with Lyle Mays, Mark Egan and Danny Gottlieb, this success was furthered all the more. But some of jazz’s ayatollahs were still somewhat sceptical of his youth-carried success (Metheny himself was only 25 at the time)… With 80/81, which was recorded in May 1980 under the label ECM, things were soon to change. At the long-haired guitarist’s side was Munich-based producer Manfred Eicher. Eicher had the judicious idea of uniting, in Oslo’s Talent Studios, a pianist-free group comprising of four incontestable big names: bassist Charlie Haden, drummer Jack DeJohnette and tenor saxophonists Dewey Redman and Michael Brecker. What could have been merely a flashy and pointless casting turned out to be quite the opposite! On this copious one hour and twenty minute double album that’s as electric (on the beginning and end sections of the record) as it is acoustic, Pat Metheny shows all his colours, and writes the best part of the songs himself. Most importantly, these famed sidemen are stylistically a long-shot from his usual musical compadres. And the exchanges between this most-harmonious five are incredibly inspiring. Former musicians in Keith Jarett’s 1971-1976 quartet and match made in heaven, Charlie Haden and Dewey Redman seamlessly accommodate our young guitar maestro. No shock if you are aware of the relationship Metheny and Haden, both ailing from Missouri (they would record together some years later), have for North American folkloric music which shines through on this album. DeJohnette expertly weaves in and out of this tight canvas and is a central part of 80/81. The drummer carries a voice here that succeeds in standing out whilst remaining in harmony with others. And on songs like Open it is impossible to tear away your ear for even a second from the magical sound of his drumsticks. Finally, the saxophonists voices are opposing yet succeed in cementing their own place (Brecker is on fire on the opening of Two Folk Songs and Redman playful on his solo in Pretty Scattered). A double album which, as the years go by and after multiple listens, will stand strong among the vast discography of its artist. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz