Born on the eastern, heavily concrete side of the Berlin Wall in the spring of 1984, Matti Klein was gifted a childhood split between two worlds – the bleak, state-sanctioned architectural austerity of East Berlin and the intoxicating, liquid beauty of a classical piano. By age ten, his fingers were already systematically marching across the ivories. He honed his craft within the disciplined, quasi-militaristic rigor of a music gymnasium in Demmin before advancing to the jazz sanctuaries of the Universität der Künste Berlin. Here, under the watchful eyes of German jazz royalty and the mentorship of trombone titan Nils Landgren, Klein shed the rigid constraints of purely academic classical training. He emerged not as another polite recitalist, but as a formidable keyboard commander, obsessed with the tactile, electric warmth of mid-century groove.

Rejecting the dry, cerebral sterility that so often plagues modern jazz, Klein built his empire upon the iconic, iron-and-felt machinery of the 1970s: the Fender Rhodes and the Wurlitzer. To watch him perform is to witness a master craftsman wrestling glorious, soul-drenched tones from vintage electromechanical contraptions. With the hard-touring jazz-funk outfit Mo’ Blow, Klein spent nearly a decade on a grueling, 300-show odyssey across the globe, racking up awards and leaving a trail of exhausted, sweat-soaked dancefloors in his wake. Whether playing the shadowy, sacred shrines of Ronnie Scott’s in London, the Blue Note in Tokyo, or the Highline Ballroom in New York, Klein proved that jazz-funk was not a dusty historical artifact, but an urgent, living, pulse-quickening language.

His surgical precision and immense sonic palette quickly made him the ultimate musical chameleon – a trusted musical director and sidekick to the absurdly eclectic. One evening he is steering the sprawling, ten-piece backing band for Scottish disco-pop icon Jimmy Somerville, translating raw 1980s synth-pop synth-lines into muscular live arrangements; the next, he is navigating the complex, cerebral, and famously unpredictable soul-jazz cosmos of Brazilian maestro Ed Motta. From arranging tracks for German stadium-rock deity Herbert Grönemeyer to collaborating with lounge-lizard royalty DePhazz, Klein seamlessly toggles between high-brow jazz improvisation, commercial pop spectacles, and even the theatrical, high-seas entertainment of cruise ship show-soundtracks – all without compromising a single drop of his soul.

With his own flagship project, the Matti Klein Soul Trio – alongside Lars Zander’s growling bass clarinet and André Seidel’s crisp, pocket-tight drumming – Klein lays down a masterclass in grooving minimalism. The trio operates with the lethal efficiency of a well-oiled machine, replacing the traditional bass player entirely by letting Klein’s left hand deliver thick, heavy, Rhodes-generated basslines directly to the gut. On their latest outings, including the buoyant Bouncin' in Bubbleverse, the group strips away all unnecessary academic clutter to reveal the raw, beating heart of soul-jazz: infectious melodies, deep-pocket funk, and a playful, joyful bounce that refuses to take itself too seriously.

Now established as one of the most versatile and sought-after keyboardists in European music, Matti Klein remains a curiously grounded figure amidst the neon glare of modern show business. He is a musician’s musician – a virtuoso who treats a Wurlitzer not as a nostalgic vintage gimmick, but as an extension of his own nervous system. Free of pretentious posturing, he continues to bridge the gap between heavy-duty musical intellect and pure, unadulterated pleasure, proving that whether you are sitting in a quiet, seated jazz club or standing in a packed festival field, the ultimate goal remains wonderfully singular: to make the soul swing and the body move.