A packed Traverse 1 on a Monday night is no small achievement for a contemporary jazz ensemble. Yet Portable Infinity’s appearance at the Traverse felt entirely at home in the theatre’s largest space. Eighteen months ago the group played the Traverse bar. Now they return at the conclusion of a major European tour to a full house, a testament both to the growing reputation of the band and the enthusiasm of Edinburgh’s jazz audience.
The evening stretched to around one hour and forty minutes without an interval, a format that might have tested a lesser audience. Instead, the capacity crowd remained rapt throughout, drawn into a performance that was as intellectually engaging as it was emotionally rewarding.
What immediately struck this reviewer was the honesty of the music. There were no backing tracks, no looping devices, no electronic embellishments and no technological shortcuts. Everything was created in real time by four musicians whose understanding of one another appeared almost telepathic. The result was music that felt alive, organic and utterly authentic.
The overwhelming impression left by Portable Infinity was one of musicianship operating at a level rarely encountered. These were not merely accomplished performers demonstrating technical excellence. This felt like a gathering of musicians who have devoted their lives to their craft and who, having spent weeks touring Europe together, had reached a point of almost instinctive understanding.
What was remarkable was that the music never felt constructed. There was little sense of performers consciously assembling notes, rhythms and harmonies. Instead, the music seemed simply to emerge. Themes appeared, evolved and dissolved as if the quartet were collectively breathing the same musical air. The result was a performance that felt less like something being created in front of the audience and more like something being discovered in the moment.
At the heart of much of the evening was the extraordinary drumming of Magnus Öström. More than simply keeping time, he treated the kit as an orchestra in miniature. Wire brushes whispered across drumheads one moment before giving way to a remarkable array of percussive colours. Tiny bells, metallic accents and subtle textures emerged from every corner of the setup. Yet what made his contribution so memorable was not merely the invention, but the visible joy with which he played. Öström seemed to be enjoying every second, his delight in the music becoming infectious for the audience.
The piano playing of Jacob Karlzon provided an equally compelling counterpoint. At times his touch possessed an almost classical elegance, offering beautifully judged accompaniment that supported the ensemble without ever overwhelming it. Then, almost without warning, he could unleash waves of sound that transformed the atmosphere entirely before retreating once more into passages of remarkable delicacy. His command of dynamics was masterly. Some of the evening’s most memorable moments came not from what he played, but from the spaces he left between the notes.
Leading the quartet was Danish saxophonist Benjamin Koppel, whose playing supplied much of the music’s melodic narrative. Whether soaring above the ensemble or engaging in intimate dialogue with his fellow musicians, Koppel’s contribution was characterised by both technical assurance and emotional depth. His solos frequently acted as signposts through the compositions, guiding the audience through music that could be adventurous without ever becoming inaccessible.
Meanwhile bassist Scott Colley provided the foundation upon which everything else rested. His contribution may have been the least demonstrative, but it was no less essential. Warm, authoritative and endlessly responsive, his playing anchored the ensemble while simultaneously allowing the others the freedom to explore.
What made the evening so compelling was the interplay between these four musicians. This was not a showcase for individual virtuosity, although virtuosity was abundant. Rather, it was an exercise in collective creation. Each player listened as intently as they performed, responding to ideas as they emerged and shaping the music together.
By the end of the evening, one was left with the sense of having witnessed something more than a concert. Portable Infinity arrived in Edinburgh as four exceptional musicians at the conclusion of a major European tour, performing at the very height of their powers. The music did not seem to come from them so much as flow through them. In that respect, the group’s name felt entirely appropriate. The possibilities appeared endless.
Reviewer: Greg Holstead
Reviewed: 8th June 2026
North West End UK Rating:
Running time – 1hr 40mins