Krokofant: Krokofant 6

Formed in 2011, the band—Tom Hasslan (guitar, bass), Jørgen Mathisen (saxophone, synthesizers), Axel Skalstad (drums, percussion)—fuses jazz-rock with progressive elements in a style as quirky as their name suggests. Krokofant 6 is issued by the fittingly-named Is It Jazz? label, marking a return to its core trio setup. This shift ignites a fiery improvisational spark, delivering a sonic assault that balances meticulous craftsmanship with thrilling unpredictability. Listeners may feel momentarily unmoored but will savor the electrifying impact.

The trio embarks on a daring six-track journey through the wilds of instrumental music. The opener, "Harry Davidson," sets a blistering pace with its vibrant energy and intricate interplay. Hasslan's guitar weaves raw power with subtle finesse, shifting from biting riffs to soaring solos with the greatest of ease. Mathisen's saxophone roars like a beast unleashed, delivering turbo-charged phrases and memorable melodies while anchored to the musicians' sturdy framework. Skalstad's drumming is a relentless force, unleashing a storm of complex rhythms and robust fills that propel the track forward with mischievous gusto.

Tracks like "Oh My Cod" display the artists' knack for blending heavy riffs with hypnotic passages. It lurches from a crushing groove to a serene, yet edgy, atmosphere before erupting back into a deluge of sound. Even in its wildest moments, the trio's musicianship radiates purpose and precision.

The album offers brief respites from its intensity. "The Ballade" provides a reflective interlude, revealing the trio's versatility with a touch of sly restraint. Yet a subtle tension lingers, stirred by Mathisen's probing saxophone notes and Hasslan's ethereal guitar interludes. They cap the piece with mid-tempo unison choruses, punctuated by Skalstad's sweeping snare rolls. The musicians' wit shines not only in their cheeky song titles but also in the music's clever subversion of expectations, keeping listeners on their toes.

The production does not merely push boundaries—it abolishes them, leaving listeners to navigate the wreckage of conventional expectations. This is music that may demand your full attention and repays it with revelations that unfold long after the final note fades. In a landscape cluttered with safe, predictable releases, Krokofant delivers something genuinely necessary: a reminder that instrumental music can still shock, challenge and transform.

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