Crowns of Collaboration: Something Like a War by Kindness
“There will be people who will say, ‘You don’t mix this with that.’ / And you will say, ‘Watch me,’” roars the sample that kicks off Something Like a War, the third studio album by Kindness, released earlier this month. On first note, you hear an epic orchestral force lifted by the intimacy of overdubbed whispers. This opening song flashes their most daring string arrangements yet — heavy on the solo upright bass — laidback in lush harmonic voicings with splatters of less conventional techniques. Just as the introductory track peaks, outer space lasers tickle us as Kindness effortlessly transitions into the celebratory club anthem, “Raise Up.”
Producer, singer, and DJ Adam Bainbridge rose through the ranks of pop, known for their collaboration-driven jams. After spending the mid-00s DJing grime in London clubs and touring with a pre-Blood Orange Dev Hynes, they adopted the moniker Kindness. They’ve worked with a colorful cast of singers, including Solange, Kelela, and Robyn. While previous projects proved Bainbridge can rock the dancefloor with four-on-the-floor house beats and the grooviest snaps and whistles, they transcend into otherworldly funk for their newest album.
In Something Like a War, Bainbridge curiously chose not to feature high-profile collaborators, but invited newer artists to the spotlight. The entire record showcases a younger generation and more international company of virtuosi musicians. Percussionist Mustafa Ahmed and keyboardist Mathis Picard carry the band throughout. Most excitingly, the featured vocalists bring new perspectives into a space often monopolized by others. While Bainbridge’s past projects offered optimism, such as their 2012 song, “Anyone Can Fall in Love,” Something Like a War explores identity in a reflective, mature, and often nuanced manner. Unlike fellow Grammy-Award-winning superproducer Mark Ronson’s summer pop masterpiece, “Late Night Feelings,” which features entirely female singers on top of male production, Bainbridge usually sings duets with the featured artists. Through unison, they highlight the beauty of synchronization. Resisting the traditional archetype of male producers and female singers, Kindness presents exciting gender expectations and possibilities for a pop record.
Lyrically and collaboratively, this is Kindness’ most ambitious project. Throughout the album, South African singer Samthing Soweto sings in different languages over a solo string bass with highly processed percussion. British singer Cosima floats above terrestrial, mysterious synths that wax and wane, allusive to Elizabeth Frazer from Cocteau Twins. On another track, Bahamadia delivers one of the wonkiest rap verses of the year. “Hard to Believe” features the melty beauty of enigmatic Jazmine Sullivan, who rarely releases new songs. Even Mercury-winning Sampha sings on “Hard to Believe,” but remains uncredited — perhaps another attempt by Bainbridge to ignore or diffuse celebrity.
“Cry Everything” is the grooviest single of the year. The shaker loop is impossible not to dance to. Vocal moans of anguish and celebration blur across the oil-painting-like soundscape. It’s a treat to hear a new album with such a strong live band. Although the song ends with the highest falsetto and lowest sinister bass in discord, the rush of catharsis empowers listeners.
In Something Like a War, Bainbridge explores the heaviest themes of isolation and self-acceptance, yet invokes a childlike whimsy, often through their command of falsetto. While no songs on the new album experiment with structure as much as the cacophonous synth-jam drone of 2012’s “Seod” (that drops into a woodblock and bass heavy banger), the new songs hint at grandeur through mature restraint. From the smallest mixing details to challenges the definition of pop, the work is that of a master. The guitars howl like Prince. The synthesizers soar like Cocteau Twins. If Kindness has earned a PhD in pop, this album ensures their tenure.
