Sweden's Djinn are purveyors of the outer fringes of jazz. Albert Ayler's wild timbres, the astral vibrations of Alice Coltrane, and the global wanderings of Don Cherry are all inspirational touchstones for this crew of genre-bending heads. Comprised of members of enigmatic fusion group Goat and psychedelic rockers Hills, Djinn let loose an unholy energy on their debut LP.
Right out of the gate, "Jazz Financed" places oblique Ayler-esque sax tones front and centre, over skittering drums and eerie violin shredding. This fiery maelstrom fades into the almost new age meandering that is "Le Jardin de la Morte." A smoky stream of chimes and drones wafts gently beneath improvised psych guitar melodies.
"Ghostdance" is a sprightly piano-drum-bass-flute romp that swings with gleeful abandon until it's ushered off stage by a blistering snare roll to make way for the chimes and thumb piano of "Fiskehamn Blues." Ayler's ghost reappears for "My Bankaccount," in which a muted cacophony of free blowing tumbles over a frenetic splaying of drumstick-wielding arms and legs. The track coalesces into a free rock jam as it roars to completion.
The album ends with the groovy boogie of "Djinn and Djuice," which begins with a mellow piano vamp and gradually elevates as more elements enter the fray. Eventually, a tail-wagging groove sneaks into focus as the players lock onto each other, and this alone is worth the price of admission.
Although Djinn are offering a survey of abstract jazz, they somehow manage to capture a spirit and a feeling that coalesces into something truly unique and exhilarating. (Rocket Recordings)
The review: Exclaim