A London quartet discovers something new by combining vibraphone, bass, and the Hang into hypnotic, slowly unfolding grooves.
The first thing you notice is the Hang — that UFO-shaped percussion instrument that sounds like a steel drum played by someone underwater. It sits in the mix like a second heartbeat, patient and meditative, while vibraphone shimmers above and bass locks into a groove that barely moves. This is what Portico Quartet sounds like: instrumental music that doesn't rush. Tracks unspool at their own pace, rarely faster than a walk, built on repetition and texture rather than melody or virtuosity. It's closer to Brian Eno or Ryoji Ikeda than to Blue Note jazz, though calling it jazz at all is generous — it's more accurately post-jazz or anti-jazz, taking rhythmic structure and ensemble playing but stripping away soloing, bebop language, and anything resembling a payoff. The songs don't build to climaxes. They float. If you've heard Knee-Deep in the North Sea (2007), their debut, you know what to expect here: patient, glacial soundscapes for late night or deep focus work. This self-titled follow-up continues in that vein without significantly shifting the formula. It's effective at what it does — creating an absorbing, almost hypnotic listening space — but it doesn't expand the palette much. For listeners wanting something genuinely strange and forward-thinking in instrumental music, Portico Quartet remains worth exploring. For others seeking more conventional jazz or rhythmic excitement, it will feel purposefully distant and maybe boring.