Nashville-based guitarist and composer Kevin Coleman is a far-reaching musician who likes to take the instrumental acoustic guitar genre and fully maximise its potential. His debut album, 2018’s First Songs, used the purely solo set-up to demonstrate his ambition and prowess, while 2024’s Imaginary Conversations saw him expanding the soundscape to incorporate a broad range of ideas.
K.C. Blues is a natural follow-up to Imaginary Conversations that Kevin began recording pretty much as soon as that album landed. This extended writing and recording process has resulted in a set that feels diverse, bringing in experimental folk, Americana and blues over six tracks and forty minutes. Like on Conversations, for this album Kevin avoided professional recording studios in favour of make-do spaces, like bedrooms and basements. However, in a swerve from the intricately composed, overdubbed nature of Conversations, for K.C. Blues, Kevin and producer Trevor Nikrant wanted a more open-ended and experimental sound.
This looser approach is present across the set, but is most keenly felt on the title track, which stretches to over sixteen minutes, giving the music plenty of time and space to unfold and travel. Beginning in a cinematic space, conjuring images of shady back streets and futuristic carnivals, with whirling sounds and Tommy Stangroom’s ramshackle percussion, after a few minutes the mood calms and Jack Bird’s fiddle and Kevin’s brittle piano begin to build the song.
Haunting the sound is Scott Mattingly’s distorted electric guitar, which surrounds the fiddle with sheets of industrial sound, bringing an air of menace. In the final third, the electric guitar evaporates, and a neat acoustic part underpins the music, allowing the strings to swirl around it and the percussion to loosely frame it.
Far more primitive in structure are songs like Dance of the Weary, which uses dusty, bluesy slide guitar to evoke a somewhat more traditional, but no less edgy, environment. Here, John Fernandes’ low clarinet, Kevin’s subtle organ and Trevor’s drum kit provide the unease, with the slide playing veering from cautious to muscular.
Also in the antiquated mould is Terrapin, a sweet seven-minute-plus number that sees a sturdy acoustic guitar part joined by rattly percussion, mandolin and banjo. This one really channels a back porch vibe (frogs can be heard in the background), but with plenty of vim, the players upping the tempo dramatically after the halfway point.
Far less composed-sounding is Ars Longa…, a playful, rich-sounding song with just Kevin and Trevor present, built on rigid, sharply plucked improvised guitar, bringing to mind some of Tashi Dorji’s more accessible work. There is also a cartoonish quality to some of the playing here, particularly Kevin’s bright, well-timed piano, that adds an element of carefree fun to an already broad palette.
It’s hardly surprising that K.C. Blues was created over a two-year-plus period; the music is happy to sweep through styles and moods, with each musician present able to seamlessly contribute to a coherent sound. Bringing to mind other avant-garde peers like Hayden Pedigo or Wendy Eisenberg, Kevin’s art is wide-ranging and far-reaching, demonstrating ambition and a desire to experiment and discover new ground in the acoustic instrumental guitar genre, and on this evidence there is plenty of it left. It makes for an exciting, impressive album, one that rewards deep listening.
K.C. Blues (July 17th, 2026) Centripetal Force / Ramble Records
Centripetal Force | Ramble Records