I never get tired of it. I never grow weary of the way in which a tiny sliver of plastic can transport me to another realm, even if only for a moment, opening up a gateway to a world rich in imagination. Perhaps it seems like hyperbole, but listening to music, at its best, is a transcendental experience and, to this day, each new record is an adventure leading to who-knows-where. It’s remarkable but those twin joys of literature and music create a canvas upon which you can daub what you will and the music of Kinsmen and strangers is a perfect example of this. A jazz trio comprising drums (Mike Alfieri), guitar (James Wengrow) and Alto Saxophone (Jon Crompton) Kinsmen & strangers’ music is wild, improvisational and exciting, conjuring images of an America I’ve only ever visited in my imagination.
Placing ‘Faustian Pact’ in my player for the first time, there’s a hint of nerves. Jazz, in particular, seems to call for a vocabulary superior to mine (just check out the dextrous essays that augment the epic Miles Davis boxsets issued on Columbia a few years back, or the prolix liner notes for Coltrane), and such music certainly encourages discourse. The title track, led by Crompton’s smoky sax, is a svelte five-and-a-half minutes in length, easing the listener in via Mike’s deft, understated percussion and James’ chiming chords. It is Jon who shines, or at least at the outset, but the band have a chemistry that is almost symbiotic, each leading the other through the twists and turns the music takes, swerving off at a right angle when things start to swing in too predictable a way and conjuring a schizophrenic vibe that evokes streets that glisten with moisture, reflecting the lights of cars as they pass on into the darkness. That late-night vibe carries over into ‘Gonzo hero’ which, with its palm-muted chords and wailing sax, manages to capture the same dynamic that Henry Mancini so gleefully employed whilst musically willing the Pink panther to ever greater exertions. Garishly chaotic and yet anchored by Mike’s nimble percussion, ‘Gonzo hero’ skitters with ample dexterity. At nearly ten-minutes, ‘post-then (now)’ has the time necessary to breathe and this it does, emerging from a Barret-era Pink Floyd haze to embrace a more sinister aspect alluding to the night-time alleyways of the band’s native Brooklyn – alleyways that promise adventure and acrimony in equal measure as neon signs gleam in the distance. In contrast, ‘Eureka, God Aliens!’ is as whimsical as its title, the band delving deep into territory that is as much Fugazi as it is Davis; James’ guitar harbouring considerable bite as it squares up to Jon’s insane acrobatics on the sax.
Terrible pun aside, ‘Wagnerisch’ is much more traditional at the outset, revealing a tenderness to the band that recalls the wonderful Hitchcock comedy, ‘The trouble with Harry’, a film that somehow captured a small-town America that may not still remain (except in the hearts of some), but which can still be discerned in the rippling notes and sublime percussion of so competent a band. When pitched against the vibrant meandering of its forebear, it is a gentle highlight that showcases a very different side to Kinsmen and strangers. Such calm cannot be allowed to last, however, and soon the track reaches its end. Cleverly inverting the battle cry of the older generation, ‘turn up your noise’ is a short, sharp, shock to the system, dealing in electrifying bursts and barely-controlled chaos. It is a brutal piece, a heavy trawl through the seedier areas that exist in all great metropolises, and it is as well the band kept it short, because it would be a difficult pace to maintain. The album concludes with ‘FDJT / FDNC’, a track that really pushes the art-rock elements of the band, recalling Sonic Youth’s bizarre ‘in the fishtank’ session in the process. It’s a satisfyingly outré conclusion to an album unafraid to take jazz and propel it ever further into the ether, the band always searching as the album finally draws you out of the city and into the cool night air of the surrounding countryside.
Beautifully recorded, ‘Faustian pact’ ignores modernity, with its obsession with upgrades in all their forms, and opts for the timeless – the band dealing in a brand of jazz that treads the same dangerous path upon which ‘Bitches Brew’ set out all those years ago. There’s a blazing intensity to the heavier passages neatly offset by occasional moments of shimmering beauty, and the band never allow things to get out of control, reigning in their more impulsive tendencies with a ruthlessness that makes for a short, always enjoyable listen. A dense trip through the imagined environs of Brooklyn awaits the curious listener, and there’s no question that the record richly rewards those prepared to opt for repeated listens. 9
Brilliant album! xx
!!! Thank you for sharing