Max Knouse - Chimpmunk'd Away (Jealous Butcher)

The Slow Music Movement
1 day ago
2 min read

*** This blog post first appeared in TSMM's June 27th Newsletter, where you can get all the tips (and more) first ***

This is the cover for Max Knouse's Chimpmunk'd Away album released on the Jealous Butcher label. It's a colorful, abstract, painted artwork consisting of leaf-like shapes. There is a large blue leaf in the center being held by a hand with the artist and album names on it.

Those paying attention will remember me tipping Max Knouse a few weeks ago when I came across the title track for his now released LP. Well I’m happy, and somewhat relieved, to report after unusually sticking my neck out, that he’s done the business.

Hailing from the US’s West Coast, he’s a bit of fixture on the folk fusion scene over there, collaborating with all the right oddball locals to help keep things freaky, and after a series of somewhat meandering releases over the last five years, which felt at times like him trying to articulate his vision, this new LP is a more focussed, mighty fine and lucid statement of outsider intent.

Max Knouse in blue cap sits at a bar table with numbered signs, with his fist in front of his mouth. Dimly lit, warm ambiance with beer kegs and tables in the background.

The LP opens sedately enough with an easy slice of heartfelt Americana, although regular lysergic tickles hint of what’s to come and at the five and half minute mark he suddenly erupts into a burst of urgent noise before relaxing and carrying on like nothing happened. Scene set he lets the trippers have what they came for on “Nook Salmon”, his vocals straining and distorting, the melodic round edges hacked off for an altogether more angular trip - watch out. “Chrysanthemum” goes all suitably flower power, paving the way with petals for the title track’s creamy acid-folk ways.

Unsurprisingly with a title like, "Beaverbrain/Kittyjesus" things soon get out of hand again, the heads nodding sagely once more from their smokey corner, before a three track voyage into sparser, pleasantly wayward folk floatiness opens the door to the gently stomping bastard blues of the well named, "Banana, Orange, and Something Else" which sees out this fine, freak flag flying, folk outing.