Kanon 27 by Sanscreed Kanon: A Sonic Puzzle That Sticks With You
If you’re into music that doesn’t just sit in one box but instead spills over into weird, beautiful corners, Kanon 27 is gonna hit differently for you. Released back in 2018 from Russia (yeah, not exactly where you’d expect this kind of experimental goodness to pop up), it’s a wild ride through funk, soul, electronic vibes, and even some jazzy twists. The album feels like someone threw Free Funk and Experimental styles into a blender and hit "puree." And honestly? It works.
Let’s talk about the track everyone will remember: “Kanon 27” itself. This thing kicks off with basslines so thick they feel like molasses running down your ears—courtesy of Valentin Frolov—and then BAM! Saxophone comes screaming in like it owns the place. Anton Ponomarev really lets loose here, making every note sound like an argument he’s winning. By the time Nikolay Kutkovoy’s piano joins the chaos, you’re already hooked. There’s something raw and unpolished about how these instruments fight for attention yet somehow gel together perfectly. It’s messy, alive, and impossible to ignore.
Another standout is… well, okay, technically there’s only one named track listed, but let’s give props to the overall vibe anyway. The percussion work by Andrey Yurov deserves its own shoutout because dude doesn’t just play drums—he commands them. Every beat feels intentional, even when it sounds like it shouldn’t fit. Paired with Mick Slonov’s sound design wizardry, the whole thing takes on this otherworldly texture that makes you wanna close your eyes and drift off somewhere far away. Like, seriously, who needs drugs when you’ve got this?
What sticks with me most isn’t just the technical brilliance—it’s how emotional the whole thing feels. You can tell these guys weren’t phoning it in; they poured their guts into this project. It’s imperfect in the best way possible, like a live performance caught on tape. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t released under some big fancy label (props to Not On Label for keeping it real).
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Kanon 27 feels less like hearing an album and more like eavesdropping on a conversation between old friends who speak entirely in rhythm and melody. And honestly? I kinda wish I could crash that hangout session.
