The Australian jazz trio is one of the most consistently brilliant groups of the past 35 years.

The Necks are a trio consisting of Chris Abrahams on piano, Lloyd Swanton on double bass and Tony Buck on drums and percussion. With only that information, you have the makings for a blissful season of discovery and wonder. Seriously. This time of the year is hectic. Stressful. Overbooked. The best gift you can give yourself is space. Inject the Necks, who have been making music for more than 35 years, into that space and feel the tension start to burn away.

For example: Chances are you’ll be scrolling for at least 20 minutes sometime today. Your soul will be much better served by dropping the needle or hitting play on “Signal,” from the Necks’ 2023 album for Northern Spy, Travel. As you listen, know that this piece, like the other three, is the product of a morning ritual described in release notes as a “practice of starting each day in the studio with a 20-minute trio improvisation. The recordings offer some of their most ecstatic and captivating music cut to tape.”  

Bassist Swanton: “It’s a really nice communal activity to bring us together in focus each day, and some lovely music has resulted from it.” The release notes point out that, despite the deep discography, the Necks had never released a straight-up live improv until Travel. (There are light overdubs and other post-production augmentations.) 

Earlier this year, the Necks released their 22nd studio album, also on Northern Spy. Called Bleed, the album consists of a single work of the same name. It clocks in at more than 42 blissful, minimalist minutes. Every note feels sacred. Each shift earned and well-plotted. Abrahams’ opening motif last more than two minutes, a sequence of sustained piano notes that ring with harmonic overtones that seem to shimmer as they swirl. Swanton bows his double bass for a few choice measures. Percussionist Buck gently strikes a line of chimes. By the time he starts rolling on his tom-toms, five minutes have passed and it feels like an ocean liner has reached the open sea after cruising through a harbor.

As you listen, realize that this will not offer you instant gratification. To fully get lost, volume and mindfulness are crucial. The Necks build their compositions layer by layer, their sound evolving gradually like the slow, hypnotic churn of the ship’s wake. Each note, each rhythmic shift, demands attention, rewarding patience with an experience that feels less like listening to a record and more like inhabiting it. It’s a deep listen that unfolds at its own pace, indifferent to haste, where immersion becomes the only way to truly understand.

YouTube offers a bounty of live Necks performances which, combined with nearly two dozen releases stretching back to the late 1980s, should occupy your head space for at least the rest of the month, if not longer. Add in the work that each member has done away from the Necks and it very well could mean that your 2025 listening time will be fully booked.

Here’s a 2008 gig in Sydney. As you listen, note that pianist Abrahams has placed a microphone inside his instrument, which amplifies the hammers hitting the strings. It adds a percussive accent to each note. Which is to say: Let’s get lost.