James Morrison's London Symphony album lands with true blue swagger

When James Morrison walks onto a stage, the room rearranges itself. Decades of playing have made the Queensland-born trumpeter and trombonist a fixture of Australian jazz, and his newest recording with the London Symphony Orchestra is the sort of release that reminds listeners why he remains a national treasure. The album pairs his big-toned, brassy phrasing with one of the world's most storied orchestras, and the result feels both grand and surprisingly intimate. Learn more about El Ritmo De Cajón Que Recuerda A Una Tarde Flamenca.

The project arrives at a moment when Australian audiences are rediscovering a taste for lush, orchestral jazz after years of favouring smaller combos and festival fare. Morrison has long been the kind of musician who can pull off a festival headline slot in Wangaratta on a Saturday night and an early-afternoon workshop at a community hall the next day. This record, with its sweeping strings and brassy swing, plays into that dual identity.

Behind the console at Abbey Road

The sessions took place at Abbey Road Studio One, the same room where the Beatles once leaned on their grand piano. Morrison brought a small hand-picked rhythm section with him from Melbourne, then handed the rest of the canvas to the London Symphony players, who approached the charts with polished restraint that only a century-old ensemble can muster. Producer John Crawford kept the mix honest, letting the brass breathe against the strings rather than burying them in reverb.

According to the liner notes, the arrangements were built around standards from the Ellington and Basie books, with a few originals tucked in for spice. Morrison's own composition, a lyrical ballad called "Wattle and Brolga," sits at the centre of the sequence and gives the LSO players a chance to flex their soft-pedal dynamics.

Arrangements that let the orchestra roar

The charts, mostly by Morrison and long-time collaborator Gordon Goodwin, know exactly when to pull back and when to let the full force of the LSO loose. The opener, a reworking of "Take the A Train," sets the template: walking bass from the rhythm section, a muted trumpet solo, then a sudden swell of violins carrying the melody into the rafters. It is a textbook example of how to write for a jazz soloist without losing the orchestra's voice.

Later in the programme, the rhythm work gets a welcome nod to other traditions. On "Stompin' at the Savoy," a particularly earthy cajón-driven passage sneaks in underneath the brushwork, giving the track a quietly transcontinental twist. It is the kind of detail that rewards a second listen with headphones.

The tone of a Queensland kid

Morrison's trumpet sound remains as unmistakable as ever: broad, round, and capable of sliding from a whisper to a full-blooded shout without a crack in between. Compared to his earlier work, this album tilts further into the lyrical end of his range, with extended ballad passages that suit the warmer acoustic of Abbey Road. His trombone work, always the surprise weapon in his kit, pops up on three tracks and adds a chocolatey counter-melody to the brass lines.

Long-time Australian jazz fans will hear echoes of the late Bob Barnard in Morrison's phrasing, that same love of a perfectly placed tailgate slur. Readers who want to revisit Barnard's own recordings can find a lovely remembrance of his life and music in the Jazz Ramble archive.

Where it sits in the local scene

Back home, the album has already been getting spins on ABC Jazz and on community stations from Perth to Hobart. Younger Australian players, many of them regulars at Sydney's Foundry 616 or the Jazzlab in Melbourne, are talking about the charts as a kind of masterclass. The record also lands at a moment when local jazz education programs are looking for fresh repertoire to assign their ensembles, and several university heads of jazz have reportedly already added the charts to their reading lists.

The commercial reality of the local market is worth noting. Physical CD sales are no longer the engine they once were, and Morrison's team has leaned into streaming pre-release teasers and a vinyl pressing for collectors. Australian retailers like Birdland Records in Sydney have already reported healthy pre-orders, which is fair dinkum impressive for an orchestral jazz record in 2024.

Highlights worth queuing up

After several rotations, a few tracks stand tall and stay with the listener long after the needle lifts. The picks below are a good starting point for anyone deciding whether to commit:

• "Wattle and Brolga" — Morrison's original ballad, featuring a gorgeous oboe line from the LSO
• "Take the A Train" — the swinging opener, with a thrilling two-chorus trumpet solo
• "Stompin' at the Savoy" — the rhythm-section showpiece, with that surprise cajón flavour
• "In a Sentimental Mood" — a slow, smoky duet between Morrison and LSO principal clarinet

The Australian tour dates

The supporting tour kicks off next April and includes the following confirmed dates:

• Melbourne Hamer Hall, opening night of the Melbourne International Jazz Festival
• Sydney Opera House, two nights as part of the Festival of Sydney programme
• Brisbane Powerhouse, a homecoming gig for Morrison
• Perth Jazz Society annual concert at the Perth Concert Hall

Tickets for the Sydney and Melbourne shows sold out within hours, a familiar story whenever Morrison announces a run of dates. The Perth society has opened a ballot for remaining seats, and the Brisbane show is being treated as a kind of victory lap for the man locals still call "Morto" from his childhood in the small town of Boonah.

A place in the catalogue

Morrison has been recording for more than forty years, and the question of where this album sits is one Australian critics are already chewing over. It is not as raw as his early work with the Morrison Brothers Big Band, nor as commercial as some of his crossover releases. What it is, though, is a confident, generous record that puts a beloved Australian voice alongside one of the world's great orchestras, and asks both to listen to each other.

The album arrives as a kind of homecoming for the player, even though it was recorded on the other side of the world. For Australian listeners, that contrast feels meaningful, the sense of a local hero making a global statement without losing his accent.

If you have not yet ordered a copy, the local record shops are worth a visit. Drop into a store, have a yarn with the staff, and put a needle on the vinyl. The album rewards a long, lazy arvo on the couch with the lights down low, and it is a worthy addition to any Australian jazz collection. Let the team at Jazz Ramble know what you think once you have given it a proper spin.