Recorded in Brazil earlier this year Rio marks the beginning of an optimistic period for Keith Jarrett. After the turmoil represented by the darker emotions of the extraordinary Paris/London Testament, Jarrett talks to Stuart Nicholson about the new love in his life, his early days playing the jazz clubs and a perfect ending

Keith Jarrett has, since his best-selling album The Köln Concert from January 1975, come to define the solo piano concert in jazz. And arguably, because of their enormous popularity, his solo concerts have come to define him, at least in the eyes of the public at large. Yet even the most devoted Jarrett fan would have had to think hard if asked to choose what solo concert album defined Jarrett’s art. But that was before Rio, recorded earlier in the year and rush released next month because both Jarrett and ECM boss Manfred Eicher consider it one of his best – perhaps the best of his career so far.

When it comes to Jarrett, it is easy to throw superlatives around, everything is relative after all, and in an age of hyperbole, you quickly run out of adjectives to distinguish the truly great from the truly every day. But Rio is a masterpiece, a jazz recording of such creativity that it is impossible to absorb the enormity of its achievement in one, two or even three auditions. Even Jarrett himself was taken aback at what he had achieved when he listened to the concert recording for the first time. “Even though I did it, a completely improvised, structured arc of music that has one of the most beautiful endings I have ever done, it still blows my mind,” he reflects. “I know I did it, but there is no way in the world I can say how I did it. I can remember it felt – I won’t say easy – but somehow it was less stressful. That is why I immediately called Manfred from the airport and said ‘Whatever plans we have we’re going to scrap them and release this first’. And he knew it was serious because he never got a call from me from the airport!”