Cloroform

Cloroform sounds like a jazz trio that has been plugged into a high-voltage socket and fed a steady diet of punk rock and comic books. The foundation is built on the incredible chemistry of a traditional trio format, but the execution is anything but traditional. You get the woody, percussive thwack of an upright bass, but it's often pushed through fuzz pedals until it snarls like a chainsaw. The drums are relentlessly tight, providing a mechanical yet human pulse that keeps the chaos from collapsing.

What makes them truly distinctive is the way they bridge the gap between high-brow musicianship and low-brow aggression. John Erik Kaada's keyboards and vocals are often heavily processed, creating a surreal, almost cartoonish atmosphere that balances the band's genuine intensity with a sense of dark humor. It is music that feels dangerous and playful at the same time, moving from acid jazz grooves to industrial noise without breaking a sweat.

Start with 'Cracked Wide Open' to hear the band at their most polished and punishing. It perfectly captures their transition from an acoustic jazz outfit into a genre-defying noise machine. If you want to hear the roots of their rhythmic experimentation, 'Do The Crawl' offers a glimpse into how they first began deconstructing the jazz tradition.