Album Review: Kind, Close Encounters
It’s not that expectations weren’t high for Close Encounters. By virtue of their lineup’s pedigree, Kind‘s output has been anticipated since before their first release, and their two albums to-date, 2015’s Rocket Science (review here) and 2020’s Mental Nudge (review here), set and lived up to a high standard for craft and melody, gleefully, mischievously kicking ass all the while since first getting together a decade ago.
I won’t take away from either of the first two records. They’re both some of the most essential heavy rock that’s come out of Boston, Massachusetts, in the last eight years. Rocket Science showed that the chemical formula resulting from the combined elements of vocalist/synthesist Craig Riggs (also drums in Sasquatch, Roadsaw frontman, etc.), guitarist/synthesist Darryl Shepard (so many bands and more all the time; he’s also a brilliant conceptualist standup comedian), bassist Tom Corino of newer-school sludge metallers Rozamov, and drummer Matt Couto (ex-Elder, also Aural Hallucinations) could function as a group rather than just players culled from elsewhere, and Mental Nudge reaffirmed it.
Where Close Encounters — because it’s the third Kind record; get it? — goes further is in extending a sense of progression to the individual sound of Kind. That is, with these nine songs and 48 minutes, Kind and returning producer Alec Rodriguez (who recorded at Mad Oak in Spring 2022 and also mixed) refine the identity of Kind as their own band, identifiable in their melodicism, psych-leaning groove and tonality, and not even through opener “Burn Scar” (premiered here) before they’re trying new ideas, crushing in tone and spacious in breadth, vocals delivered in layers as they draw the listener deeper into the album’s unfolding.
The pattern continues through rolling highlight cut “Favorite One,” which joins closer “Pacino” as the only other inclusion on Close Encounters to hit seven minutes. That’s a shift in approach from Mental Nudge, which worked back and forth between longer and shorter tracks, but the band want nothing for flow either way. “Favorite One” finds Riggs delving into a fairly spot on Jerry Cantrell-circa-Facelift-style hook, backed by the synchronicity of Couto‘s snare and the punch of Corino‘s bass, and a drifting vocal melody after Shepard‘s solo that reminds of Snail, but is recontextualized to suit Kind‘s purposes of structured exploration.
The point of “Black Yesterday” seems to be to capture a sense of vastness, as evidenced by the reverb soaking the midsection before it hands off to Shepard for a particularly fuzzed lead section, but it’s also the last part of a three-song opening salvo that builds up the momentum that will carry Kind through the remining six pieces. “Snag” is a big help in that regard, with a stripped-back runtime — at 3:58, it is one of three Kind pieces to clock in under four minutes; the still-to-come “Power Grab” is the shortest song they’ve written at 2:56 — and a chorus that stands up well to being leaned on as it is, heavy and atmospheric, with the vocals seeming to sort of surf the riff as the band move into the crescendo hook and subsequent ending section, some ‘additional percussion’ credited to Riggs marking the change.
‘Just a rock song’ — in quotes because I’m someone whose life has been changed and in many ways shaped by rock songs — on paper, “Snag” is given space, character and dimension through the guitar and bass tones, the mix, and the echo treatment on the drums and vocals. This is emblematic of Kind‘s approach generally, but captured with particular efficiency and accessibility. They follow it with the centerpiece, named “Massive” presumably in honor of Corino‘s bassline, and swinging with a thickened strut that is at once classic heavy rock and a stylistic signature from Couto. Marked by vital nod, “Massive” sits well between “Snag” and “Power Grab,” both of which are faster and the latter of which is Close Encounters‘ most fervent push.
I’m not sure where the vinyl sides split, but if either “Massive” (seems more likely timing-wise) or “Power Grab” starts side B, then fair enough as it leads into the last section of the record, which begins explosive as “Of the Ages” bursts to life from its standalone-riffed intro. Quick into the verse, quick into the chorus, it follows suit from “Snag” and even “Massive” in terms of structural traditionalism, and so does “What It Is to Be Free,” but each has its own persona, with “Of the Ages” seeing itself out with a multi-stage solo atop its swaying lumber, and “What It Is to Be Free” finding an especially brash groove and a guitar melody in its intro that meets bombast with due swagger. It is not the sort of tune Kind would or maybe could have written together in 2015, but they sure make it sound easy now (and for all I know the song was written in 2015).
“Pacino” rounds out with what seems to be shimmy in surplus — no complaints — and a tension resulting that’s balanced through complementary twists led by Shepard on guitar and a stretch in the second half of more forward push. The key word is ‘push,’ though. Shepard takes a lead before Riggs returns with a last verse and chorus, and as it comes apart, “Pacino” spends not quite its full last minute in a lightbath of melodic psych drone carved out of residual comedown noise. Where much of Close Encounters up to that point has been about movement between parts, the flow within and between songs, and expansion on Kind‘s prior modus of craft and performance, “Pacino” dwells more in that boogie, riding the central chug for the vast majority of the proceedings and wrapping the album so that still kinetic in nature, but changed in shape and underlying makeup.
And while it’s a sidestep from some of the other material, it is consistent in both sound and atmosphere and well within their style, so not awkward or out of place. It’s like the rest of Close Encounters: the work of a band who have built their identity from the ground up, who know who they are, and who are working actively to evolve their processes and sound. I said when it was announced that Close Encounters is the best offering from Kind. It is. It weaves smoothly through complex changes and is soothing even at its heaviest, accomplishing a rare malleability of stylistic balance. More than anything though, it is Kind, and it broadens the scope of what that means.
