What would be in your diary of gratefulness? Cassie Kinoshi’s mother keeps a gratitude book, adding one thing each day to re-focus on practicing thankfulness. These items have included flowers blooming and a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Tied in with this is Cassie’s regulating of her own mental health, which she describes as being of the utmost importance. A modern jazz-fusion artist of renown, Kinoshi knows that to realign oneself through creative acts can bring a release from suffering. Note how her Mercury-nominated band seed. and the title gratitude are shown in lower case on this new album. That’s humility in action.
The word ‘jazz’ offers such a false coherence that many music fans miss out on its union with the divine. Yet few genres can match its power to cut through social and linguistic divides. Kinoshi’s latest project, her first for International Anthem, was recorded live at London’s Southbank in March 2023. With around sixteen players involved, the tracks feel largely pre-composed. A focus on tight arrangements, however, doesn’t mean gratitude would swing more if improvised, or that it lacks for rhythmic freedom or shapely solos.
Might we glean hints of Kinoshi’s wellbeing from this music? The strings are certainly not used for sentiment or as a sedative, but to send anxious shivers or indicate fragility. Meanwhile the brass adds mystical swoops and a bluesy embrace in the lower tones. Sustained chords add extra suspense throughout. The first piece i opens on suppressed and mysterious piano and strings, before a warming sunburst of brass. ii ranges from nervy tremors to a funky fanfare, as Shirley Tetteh’s guitar solo drifts dreamily. interlude i is a liquid rippling of sounds, like a digital music box, intoxicated bees, or the sparks of brain energy when composing. Whatever brings you gratitude.
Bass lines tiptoe in on Sun Through My Window, with woodwind casting a strange astral glow. The ensemble swells solemnly, later settling into a passage of pure consciousness. There’s always something going on with so many players – a stormy trumpet, guitar flutters, shamanic percussion – but the arrangements never feel overtly ‘big band’. Nothing is ever so rapid or hectic as to be garbled, with subtle drums and keyboards holding the tension.
A single piano note on interlude ii acts like a gentle wake-up call, as if to rouse the other instruments from pastoral reverie. iv trips and hops back into urban mode, as Kinoshi takes control with a swanky downtown solo. Elsewhere, the mellow breezy intro on Smoke in the Sun might easily herald a Steely Dan track, with a tone of triumph found in Kinoshi’s sax solo. The languid swing suggests a soul at ease, maybe even in love, reminding us that no instrument is better at soundtracking romance.
It’s been suggested that calling jazz musicians ‘composers’ is redundant and imposes a certain hierarchy. Yet writing music of this album’s calibre is both a challenge and a privilege. Likewise, listening to it requires some investment of both mind and spirit. Made from the raw materials of Kinoshi’s life, gratitude overflows with harmony and clarity.
Pre-Order gratitude: https://intlanthem.bandcamp.com/album/gratitude