Awakenings is the first solo album by Sardinian vibraphonist Jordan Corda, one of the most exciting newcomers on the contemporary jazz scene for some time now. But besides the fact that a debut album is always good news, there are several elements in this work that don't go unnoticed. The first is that Awakenings was released by A.MA Records, a Puglia-based label with a hugely interesting catalog that spans the best of contemporary jazz. The second is the lineup of musicians who accepted Corda's invitation, some of the best around and perfectly at translating his ideas into music: fellow Apulian Luca Mannutza on piano, Paolo Recchia on alto saxophone, Daniele Sorrentino on bass, Sasha Mashin on drums, and, of course, Corda himself with his vibraphone and his personal story. This last element is the most striking and becomes the leitmotif of the album, which, it must be said, is not only an autobiographical work, but a reflection on the complicated profession of a musician, an introspective exploration of the weight of one's origins, a profound reflection on the most intimate folds of one's being. For this very reason, the work presents itself as a concept that has awakening as its starting and ending point in a compact and homogeneous block divided into twelve tracks. "I am my awakenings," states Jordan Corda in the liner notes, a thought difficult to explain rationally, but one that seems to lead us to that middle ground created between dream and light, which appears every time we open our eyes. Every awakening is always a new beginning, a new chapter in life that must be understood and faced each time. And the cover art itself seems to belong to the world of uncertainty and mystery, in which Jordan is immersed in an almost Caravaggio-esque blanket of darkness that allows for infinite possibilities in a scenario that offers few points of reference. Thus even the nuraghe that almost hides inside and on the back of the CD booklet becomes a testimony to a past not yet fully explored, magical and disturbing, but at the same time present and reassuring, like a silent guardian who takes care of our existences.

All these sensations are confirmed in the twelve original compositions written by Corda, which should be read as a single stream of consciousness and open with "You, Me And The Mirror," a track that navigates the multifaceted interior space traversed by infinite emotional currents and a constant reference to the turbulence that marks the complexity of the human race. The mirror reflects and distorts, reassures and deceives in a constant exchange of sensations and uncertainties. The mirror reflects its own image, but it is still a double, a representation, something tragic and indefinable. It is no coincidence that this piece closes with the voices of the Canto a Tenore Santu Larettu di Silanus, shifting the focus to another level, to a past that never ceases to be felt, that strange sensation that Jim Morrison, or someone like him, outlined in a few words: "If death is awakening, life is a dream." The album closes with "Awakenings," a slow, meditative piece, a quasi-ballad that represents one of the high points of this work, with Luca Mannutza inventing a hypnotic, repetitive backdrop and the other instruments settling into it with indolent participation. More than an awakening, this piece unfolds sensations of torpor, narcolepsy, and abandon, as if it were simply a way of saying that there is no precise boundary between dream and reality. But between these two extremes lies much more, especially the great interplay between the musicians, the ability to bring different souls together without getting carried away. This debut confirms Corda's desire to feel part of a complex and turbulent universe and to always be open to discussion and change, without forgetting his own origins and history. As Alda Merini said in her wild poetic journey: "I always wake up in good shape and deform myself through others."