This sincerity is the most valuable element in the album, because when beautiful music merges with an uninhibited, uncomplicated attitude, the result is a small miracle. Euria is a fine example of this. It is a mood, a journey home with a stop along the way to take a photo, this photo. Right from the title page of the album, with its allusion to raindogs (dogs who have got lost after a storm, and who are searching for the way back home), Teresa Zabalza plays hide and seek with us, dropping notes at the end of every page, in order to enable us to get to know her little by little.

In August 2003, the TZ quintet gave a performance in Vitoria-Gasteiz in the middle of a typical late summer downpour. The concert was held in the open air, protected by a marquis in which the rain drumming down on the ceiling synchronised perfectly with the group’s own music. It was during this concert that the double-bass player, Iosu Izagirre, first performed the track after which the album is named. A performance that took place in unbeatable conditions, with the perfect mood for this fascinating song that twists and turns around itself again and again. During the intro, the group was joined by an unexpected extra and a bark could be heard in perfect time with the song. A second bark reminded all those present that magic truly exists. The extra was a musical dog, making his contribution to Euria. The same dog that can now be seen on the cover of the album.

And what about the other members of the group? Group in the best collective sense, in which Teresa feels most at home and where each song acquires the necessary meaning through the simple ability to listen and speak in the appropriate tone, without raising your voice at any moment. They make themselves heard clearly, without needing to resort to fake poses: Teresa watching over everything, ‘unleading’ as only she knows how. Migual Villar (every day more at home in Barcelona, every day more solid and natural) with his totally unaffected, relaxed and meditative sound. Alejandro Mingot, underlining where necessary, subtly evoking where necessary or really letting lose when there is something important to say. Hasier Oleaga, who is becoming increasingly impressionist, is able to contain himself to the limit, creating a wonderful sense of tension. He is also able to lend those tiny touches that, with just a few well chosen gestures, tell a whole story. And finally, Iosu Izagirre, laconic and sober, the ultimate embodiment of the spirit of the album’s dog, searching and searching, finding and discovering.

Has anyone noticed that the word ‘jazz’ has not yet come up? This music does not need to be tied down to any one genre. Jazz always had many parents, but only one slogan: Freedom. Euria looks towards a thousand corners, where Reid Anderson, Kurt Rosenwinkel or the Bloomdaddies forged their own path by mixing Monk with Radiohead, and Paul Motian with Nirvana, Morphine and David Lynch. Melancholy, nostalgia, childhood memories, hard-fisted irony and always a pinch of fantasy. All this can be found in Euria. And we hope that TZ has more to tell us, and brings out more albums like this one – full of half-whispered conclusions, mischievous confessions and invitations to wander around our personal inner streets. The best thing about the journey is that it is just beginning. These musicians have definitely found their own voice.