There's nothing surprising anymore about the cross-pollination of jazzbos gigging with rockers and laptoppers, especially in the mutation-friendly music scene of Oslo, Norway (see: Jaga Jazzist, Supersilent). But it's rare to hear a band that exposes the fissures. While this Norwegian quartet's third and latest record appeals on many levels, from the prog/fusion ear candy of the riffs to the intimacy of its quiet passages, its staying power comes from the lurching disconnects: drunken and wonky, serene yet comical, and hiccuped by an array of noises, farts, and whispers. The four guys in the Shining are all in their 20s, and they include a jazz/fusion keyboardist, a saxophonist frontman who name-drops Sepultura, a pop-session drummer, and the bassist for, um, Norway's biggest hip hop act; they genuinely sound like they can't agree on a direction, but they hammer out one intriguing accommodation after another.
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