Album Review: "Blended" by Hess & Friends – A Genre-Bending Joyride
If you’re into music that doesn’t sit still, Blended by Hess & Friends is the kind of album that’ll keep you guessing. Released in 2018 out of Switzerland, this record throws together rock, folk, world, and country vibes with a hearty dose of Rock & Roll swagger. It’s like someone handed these guys a musical blender (pun totally intended) and said, “Go nuts.” And trust me—they did.
Let’s talk about two tracks that really stuck with me. First up, there’s Ride Oh Sally. This one kicks off the album with an infectious groove that feels like cruising down a dusty road with the windows down. Alex Niederhäuser’s banjo work gives it this playful twang, while Dario Hess’s harp adds this unexpected layer of soulfulness. The handclaps? Yeah, those are Dario too—because why not? It’s got this raw energy that makes you wanna stomp your feet or maybe even attempt some awkward dancing in your kitchen. You know what I mean?
Then there’s Lie Lie Lie, which hits different but in the best way possible. Jürg Oswald’s baritone saxophone steals the show here, giving the track this sultry, almost jazzy vibe. Stefan Sykora pulls triple duty on acoustic, electric, and steel guitars, creating this lush soundscape that just wraps around you. The lyrics feel brutally honest, like they’re calling out someone who’s been playing games—and honestly, who hasn’t had a moment where they needed a song like this to vent to?
The whole album has this DIY charm to it since it came out on Not On Label. It’s clear everyone involved poured their hearts into it. From Michael Halter’s steady basslines to Martin Gugger’s fiddle adding dashes of country flair, every track feels alive and personal. Producer creds go to Hess & Friends themselves, and you can tell they weren’t afraid to experiment.
What’s wild is how seamlessly all these styles blend together (yep, another pun). One minute you’re vibing to something folky, and the next you’re headbanging to a gritty rock riff. It shouldn’t work as well as it does, but somehow it just… does.
Here’s the thing: listening to Blended feels less like putting on an album and more like crashing a jam session full of talented friends. Sure, it might not be perfect, but that’s part of its charm. By the time Freedom rolls around near the end, you realize you’ve gone on quite the journey—and isn’t that what good music’s supposed to do?
Final thought? If aliens ever land and ask for proof of human creativity, we should probably hand them this album. Or at least play it really loud while we figure out if they come in peace. Either way, Blended deserves a spot in your playlist.