Acclaimed guitar wizard and co-producer Hayden Pedigo describes Jens Kuross’ sound on Crooked Songs (out now via Woodsist) as “Arthur Russell meets Harry Nilsson,” and I have to agree. It’s a brand of hushed, off-kilter, melancholy pop that always hits me hard, much like his predecessors. The record is a bare-bones affair, featuring Jens’ vocals, a Wurlitzer, subtle ambient washes, and the occasional chair creak or room noise.
Normally, I would offer a step-by-step description of each track, but that doesn’t feel appropriate for an album like this. The aesthetic is consistent throughout, and the longer you sit with it, the richer the tapestry becomes. This is a song cycle in the most classic sense. Your favorite moments will likely center around a lyric that resonates with where you are in your life or a vocal quiver that tugs at you just a bit harder than the others. It’s a delightfully nuanced listen in a time when most production efforts lean toward maximalism.
Though the minimalist production is a nice touch, the true centerpiece of the album is Jens’ vocal talent. His timbre is rich and soulful, pulling you into unexpected corners of the spirit as you sink deeper into the record.
Overall, Crooked Songs stands as a strong, assured singer-songwriter album. If that’s your kind of thing, there is much to admire here. It’s the sort of record for listeners moved by a subtle turn of phrase or an unexpected note choice, rather than virtuosic playing or massive hooks.
