Now Playing:
With an origin stretching back to 1999, Thieves' Kitchen have been making music for quite a few years now (although the lineup has changed over time). Currently the band is made up of Phil Mercy (guitars), Thomas Johnson (keyboards), and Amy Darby (vocals, clarinet, recorders, and several other instruments). While the members of the group have typically been based in the UK (as both Mercy and Darby are), Johnson actually hails from Sweden. Back in the early 1990s, Thomas Johnson was also the keyboardist in the Swedish progressive rock group Änglagård, who broke up in 1994 after releasing just two very good studio albums (although they reformed in 2009 and have since released new music).
While the core of Thieves' Kitchen is made up of Amy, Phil, and Thomas, they are also joined by Paul Mallyon (formerly of Sanguine Hum) on drums, and Johan Brand and Anna Holmgren of Änglagård on bass and flute respectively.
There is a marked difference between the music of Thieves' Kitchen and Änglagård though. From the opening bars of the first track Library Song, it's clear that Thieves' Kitchen has virtually none of the brilliantly foreboding winter-dark sound that characterizes Änglagård (as lovely as it actually is). Rather, The Clockwork Universe, while at times angular and enigmatic, has a more immediately welcoming atmosphere about it.
As the album opens with Library Song, the keening electric guitar melody accompanied by electric piano and a bass counterpoint immediately give off a buoyant, jazzy air. Once the breezy organ arpeggios and the skittering drums arrive, the Canterbury influence is front and center. The instrumental section that breaks out at around the half-way mark features both guitars and synths reprising the same spiraling theme sung earlier by Darby, while the snappy rhythm section steps things up into a higher gear than before. Enough good things simply cannot be said about Paul Mallyon's drumming on this record; it's highly enjoyable and serves to make the music more interesting rather than just being content to keep time.
Phil Mercy's guitar playing throughout, whether on acoustic or electric, is very tasteful and enjoyable. There are moments of intricacy that rival Gentle Giant. He seems to favor more clean or low-distortion guitar tones, which while further adding to the jazz flavor also allows for more sonic space and keeps the music solidly outside of metal territory.
Additionally, Amy Darby's voice deserves special mention, as it's one of the band's greatest assets and a near-perfect match to the music. She is able to make challenging vocal lines sound effortless, and never veers into histrionics.
There also seems to be a concept running through the record. While the subject matter differs from one track to the next, lyrically the songs seem to have a common science-based thread connecting them together -- the most obvious example perhaps being the album centerpiece, The Scientist's Wife, an impressive composition that clocks in at almost 20 minutes.
One of this group's strengths is in the merging of symphonic progressive rock with the Canterbury style that was pioneered by groups such as Soft Machine, National Health, and Caravan (among many others). The two styles are very different from each other, and yet Thieves' Kitchen are able to bridge the gap quite well. Perhaps a big component of the "symph" sound is the presence of Thomas Johnson; he does an outstanding job on the keys, whether it's adding atmosphere with the Mellotron, or contributing upbeat and punchy synth and organ melodies.
Perhaps most important of all, the band sounds like they are having fun together and that comes through in the music. Overall it's a very solid release that rewards multiple listens, as most worthwhile records do. But don't let me be the judge -- have a listen for yourself below!
Standout tracks: Library Song, Prodigy, The Scientist's Wife
Sounds like:
- Canterbury
- symphonic prog
- jazz fusion
Doesn't sound like:
- new age
- heavy metal
- R&B
Band website:
Year Released: 2015 / Record Label: Thieves' Kitchen