Soul To Burn features highly inventive and memorable avant-rock songs by trio of celebrated musicians, Reciprocate. The germ of the notion that would flower into Soul To Burn came when Reciprocate’s vocalist/guitarist Stef Kett reflected on the idea of funk rock. It ought, he thought to himself, be the best of genres but so often in practice it ends up being the poorest. True enough. Kett decided to approach the problem from a fresh angle, multiple fresh angles, grinding angles, creating an “alt-soul” in which the soul gets to stretch and burn, applied with the power of a rock’n’roll trio but dynamism and agility, rather than cumbersome bulkiness. Reciprocate is a super-group made up of highly celebrated musicians from the UK DIY music scene – their singular, searing-hot power conjured by Stef Kett (Shield Your Eyes) in tandem with drummer Henri Grimes (Shield Your Eyes, Big Lad) and Marion Andrau (The Wharves, Underground Railroad) on bass. The result is the excellent Soul To Burn, which proceeds at a cadence all of its own, halting and blasting, ducking and weaving, zooming away from its distant cousins: Taste era Rory Gallagher or Mr Zoot Horn Rollo of Captain Beefheart’s Magic Band. That’s particularly evident on “Self Regarding Floor Sweepings”, with echoes of “When Big Joan Sets Up” from Beefheart’s Trout Mask Replica, especially with Kett’s added harmonica as the trio hit the winding dirt track, slaloming and swerving. Here is an album of full throttle soul, an avant-rock made up of ear worms so intoxicating they borrow from deep in the mind down deeper into the heart – it’s the cool, weighty groove of Tony Joe White leathering it at full throttle, fuelled by virtuosic back beats that remind of somewhere between the rolling rock of Mitch Mitchell and the fractured noisebeat of Lightning Bolt’s Brian Chippendale: immediate, innovative, virtuosic, exhilarating. Key to the impact of Soul To Burn is Grimes’ drumming, a force unto itself, which sometimes feels like it’s engaged in a creative and playful tussle with Kett’s virtuosic vibrato guitar. Take “Rhodia”, which sounds initially like a radical reworking, an anagram of Free’s “All Right Now”, on which Grimes doesn’t so much hit the groove as hammer it into the ground. Reciprocate tend to be averse to mere repetition, too full as they are of ideas, possibilities. But they know how to hit a riff, as on “Pissed Hymn”. Kett’s vocals are unconventionally impassioned - no vibrato or performative hollering. Rather they climb, up and and again up from the pit of the soul. There’s a sense throughout that this music is hard wrought, squeezed through small apertures, produced against the odds, born to trouble as the sparks fly upwards. There are quieter moments, however, such as the exquisitely beautiful “Ressypressocate”, which affirm the ultimately tender place from where this album proceeds, notes plucked like black flowers, twisted and cherished. Reciprocate demonstrate an astonishing virtuosity, nuance and musical sensitivity manifested through their deep mutual understanding and synergetic interactions. There are moments of sync and camaraderie that remind of the very late Beatles, those rare moments during the Let It Be Era when they loosened up, reassumed their old understanding. But then Kett’s lets fly with a long, looming note and suddenly we’re somewhere else again. With Soul To Burn, Reciprocate set out their stall of intoxicating, super catchy good-time, big heart music – a human album delivering a human message of love and love lost. By the album’s end, you’ll feel pushed and pulled through the mill, wiped out, blissfully exhausted, strangely serene
