Kroko are a Finnish band that plays progressive rock, and if that doesn't sound like your cup of tea then skip this review entirely. You heard me, I said "scram," and take your image-obsessed indie t-shirt with you! Nobody wants you here! Come on, take off.

Are they gone? Okay, I think they're gone. Now, as I said, Kroko play prog. This isn't flowery symphonic stuff, metal or something that sounds like Alan Parsons. It's more in the school of Zappa, Henry Cow and the Rock in Opposition (RIO) crew, wherein abstraction, noise and improvisation get mixed in with the expected heavy chops and extended instrumental workouts. The band is a trio (guitar, bass and drums), but as you may or may not expect, they make a considerably greater racket than three guys are normally expected to produce.

Now, I don't have to tell you that this kind of thing doesn't stand a good chance of catching on with your average rock listener. If you're reading this, it's obvious that you couldn't give two shakes about whether music was trendy or cool or "fairly normal" or "acceptable to regular people" or "the kind of thing you could put on and not have people running for cover or giving you condescending stares like you're some kind of super nerd who never gets out and when he does it's probably to buy advance copies of the Lord of the Rings souvenir program." That goes without saying. And it's the average, non-discerning rock listener's loss to miss out on an album like Furia, because while it's not exactly going to change the world, it's definitely good for kicking out a few jams.

Kroko, comprised of Pentti Dassum (guitar), Petri Hissa (drums) and Jyrki Ylikiski (bass) do know a thing or two about tearing it up live. In fact, their website speaks of influences varying from "jam to jam," and the music here supports the theory that they've cut more than a few teeth onstage. Many of the tunes veer off into exploratory, guitar-led excursions that remind me of King Crimson's similar mid-70s concert journeys. Dassum favors heavy distortion, a la Nels Cline or an agitated, Mahavishnu-era John McLaughlin, and Hissa is nothing if not on fire, consistently at the heels of the other two to get a groove on and keep moving. Again, this is the kind of role Bill Bruford played during those classic Crimson shows from the 70s, though Hissa is quite a step more extroverted on the skins, suggesting a combination of folks like fusion master Narada Michael Walden and Ruins' boss Tatsuya Yoshida.

The album begins with someone snoring, but the alarm sounds soon enough with "Ambient Ballad Pt. 1." I guess the Fins are feeling the irony, as this tune is basically straight-ahead avant super-rock. Crazy overdriven guitar feeds right into the off-kilter, faux-anthemic riff of the opening (reminding me of another quirky prog act, Samla Mammas Manna-- also Scandinavian, and also knowers of the jam). Kroko don't really kick it into something you could headbang to until the next short tune, "Polanski After Ski." It's fast, it's in 11/8, it's got tons of cool drum fills and a nifty bass riff-- yes, three songs in, and they're still prog. How's that for attention span?

Kroko aren't always high energy, as tunes like "Sol Ist" and "Setzer Au Naturelle" feature some rather lovely, restrained guitar work reminiscent of Bill Frisell's noir-esque colorings on the non-schitzo Naked City tunes. There are even hints of after-hours jazz, but only for a bit, and then the band returns to their hallowed rev-up/burn-out territory. There are even a few live tracks scattered throughout that give them ample time to "explore" their bad selves to everyone's content.

Of course, if you're so inclined, there's a whole canon of albums in this style, although most of them are from the 70s, and usually aren't afforded the same reverie as other, more socially (and critically) "acceptable" stuff like krautrock or jazz fusion. Besides Crimson (and the aforementioned Samla, Zappa and the Mahavishnu Orchestra), Kroko belong to a lineage that includes Henry Cow and Italy's Area, as well as more recent bands like Anekdoten, Hoyry Kone (also from Finland) and Miriodor. And while I'd love to write up the histories of all of these acts, I'd really rather you take this album as a starter and move on from there, investigating the secret world of avant-prog to your heart's content. All you really need is the desire to jam, and maybe a slight fetish for grooves in 11.

-Dominique Leone, December 18th, 2001