Largo

1	When It Rains 6:36
2	Youre Vibing Me 3:28
3	Dusty McNugget 5:43
4	Dropjes 3:58
5	Paranoid Android 9:05
6	Franklin Avenue 3:42
7	Sabbath 4:42
8	Dear Prudence 5:22
9	Free Willy 5:05
10	Alvarado 4:00
11	Wave/Mother Nature's Son 6:28
12	I Do 7:17

Barnes & Noble

Following eight albums that showcase his prodigious piano skills in the acoustic solo and trio formats, Brad Mehldau -- in collaboration with Jon Brion, producer of Fiona Apple, Aimee Mann, and Rufus Wainwright -- expands his timbral palette on the kaleidoscopic Largo. In the process, he finds a cogent platform on which to unite abiding interests in hardcore jazz, classical, and electro-acoustic alternative rock. Navigating an obstacle course of Brion-conceived environments, Mehldau conjures spirited improvisations on eight originals, plus songs by Radiohead ("Paranoid Android"), the Beatles ("Dear Prudence"), and Tom Jobim ("Wave"). He electronically distorts the piano through a Leslie and whammy pedal on "Sabbath"; treats the lower two octaves with putty on "Android" and "Free Willy"; and plays passable vibraphone on two other tracks. Brion, ever the savvy pop aesthetician, keeps the atmosphere fresh from track to track, deploying the pianist's cohorts -- bassist Larry Grenadier and drummer Jorge Rossy from his trio, plus bassists Derek Oles and Justin Meldal-Johnsen (Beck); percussionists Jim Keltner, Victor Indrizzo (Beck), and Matt Chamberlain; himself on guitar synth; and woodwind and brass ensembles -- in various combinations and configurations. Fascinating and deeply personal, Largo suits Mehldau's polymath instrumental personality to a tee and may well exemplify an intelligent way for jazz musicians to access the open emotions of pop without neglecting high aesthetics. Ted Panken

All Music Guide

In the most enigmatic project up to this point in his career, Brad Mehldau explores conflicting aesthetics, sometimes in tracks positioned next to each other, and occasionally within the confines of a single performance. A spare simplicity governs much of the album, emphasized by almost puritanical horn arrangements -- long notes, mournful triadic chords. After acknowledging these episodes with childlike figurations on the piano, Mehldau then builds his solos along more dissonant lines, which invariably end up enhancing the mood. But then there are tracks like "Dropjes," whose electronic effects gnash angrily at the piano, or "Free Willy," on which putty attached to the instrument's low strings allows Mehldau to unleash a feral improvisation, with lines that suggest scurrying rodents more than bebop blowing. Producer Jon Brion stimulated much of this adventurism, at times diving directly into the mix with his guitar synth or Chamberlin keyboard. But what intrigues most about Largo in the end is the perspective it offers on Mehldau, whose playing here is, as always, intelligent, perhaps a bit cerebral, and now open as well to sonic exotica. Robert Doerschuk

Entertainment Weekly

Could be the curveball jazz album of the year.