Jazz has been a part of my life for almost three decades now. And yet after all that time I can count on one hand the number of trombone players I’m aware of. I’ve always drifted towards piano, saxophone, guitar, and trumpet. Indigo made me realize that I haven’t given the trombone enough attention.
My introduction to trombonist Nabou Claerhout coincides with Indigo’s release on January 30, 2026. I stumbled across a YouTube video of the Nabou Claerhout Trombone Ensemble (comprised of five trombones and a rhythm section), was impressed, and made a note to check out more of the group’s music. Just a few minutes later, I saw Indigo featured in a new music round up on the You’ll Hear It podcast. So here I am two days later soaking up everything Indigo has to offer.
I love how dark and introspective the trombone sounds on Indigo. Claerhout’s tone is smooth and round and lacks the harsh brassiness I associate with the instrument. On tunes like “Consent (for Stijn)” and “Flux Bloom,” she wields her instrument like a voice, managing an easygoing baritone one moment and a plaintive falsetto the next.
Claerhout, though, is unafraid to flirt with brashness. On “Unpersuadable Extern,” she tickles the edge, like a tube guitar amp pushed to the point of just breaking up without ever punching through into full-on distortion. Her control is incredible. At times the trombone and guitar meet in unison where they meld into a strange and surprising sound unlike anything I’ve heard before.
The highlight of the record for me is “Light Blue Shawl (for Stijn).” Claerhout delivers a tasteful ballad with hints of melancholy and free jazz. She flirts with harshness again, creeping up to, but never quite crossing, the line—except maybe right at the very end. The guitar work by Gijs Idema is stunning, too, pitching back and forth between lush chords and sharp, stoccato harmonics.
Indigo is a beautiful album that showcases the trombone in all its versatility. It also, in my mind, establishes Claerhout as one of modern jazz’s most unique voices. It’s a dense record with lots to digest. But damn does it taste good.
Listen
What is “An Album a Day”?
Each day in 2026, I’m listening to an album that:
- I’ve never heard before
- Was released in the last six months (from the time of listening)