Gumshoe Jazz for Alien Cowboys and Francophile Giraffes: Beninghove’s Hangmen Send Out the Noir-est, Quirkiest Transmissions on Pineapples and Ashtrays

The giraffe ain’t talking. Don’t even try.

But mischievous noir-loving Jersey jazzman Bryan Beninghove is. He and his Hangmen shout, squeal, whisper, thump, and shimmy on Pineapples & Ashtrays (release: May 13, 2016), an album that charts what happens when avant-crazy types cut loose and have surf-rock, samba-esque, oddball fun.

Horns and guitars, samba rock and The Cramps, straight men and funny guys collide, though the band never strays from solid playing and spot-on performances. Inspiration comes from unexpected places--the Wikipedia entry on the giraffe or a herd of enraged elephants, Neil Diamond or Public Enemy’s Terminator X--but with predictably strong, catchy results. Pieces evolve as the seasoned posse of improvisors takes their sound in radical but grooving directions.

“I’m serious about the craft, but I don’t take myself too seriously,” reflects Beninghove. “The fun thing: we’ve been around for about five years, and we’ve got it down as a band. I could write a chart to ‘Happy Birthday,’ a straight-up normal chart, and my bandmates would just run with it.”

“The multi-instrumentalist moved to town at the turn of the millennium and has made it swing ever since.” --Tris McCall, Star Ledger

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Since his professional start playing in bars at the tender age of 12, Beninghove has mastered a range of instruments, including sax, melodica, and piano. He takes on almost any gig or style that challenges or intrigues him, from the straightest of the straight-ahead to accompanying gospel singers or penning surf-rock tunes.

The Hangmen sprang from the hodgepodge of interests Beninghove flirted with over the years. Some tunes were influenced by the dark cinematics of Danny Elfman, some by the sparkly cheese of Air Supply, Neil Diamond (“Girl, You’ll Be a Woman Soon”), or Gilbert O’Sullivan. And some came from impromptu animal-imitation sessions with his kids. (“Le girafe,” which features a remarkably creepy reading of the animal’s French wiki, and “Elephant Stampede”)

“I started putting together some ideas, writing a bit with guitar, percussion, trombone, and sax. Then I thought I could use a drummer and bassist, then I threw in rock guitar vibe,” recalls Beninghove with a laugh. “Then I said, ‘Wait, I need two guitars!’ You can have the twang on one side, a straight man and a funny man. That frees everything up. It gives me space.”

It also gives ample space to the cast of characters that make up the Hangmen. One of the first to join, guitarist Eyal Maoz, collaborated with John Zorn and Medeski, and had a hint of the mad genius about him. He’d sit down with finger cymbals and whistles and record the works of Bartok to four track. He was just the kind of player Beninghove wanted.

Maoz, along with fellow Zorn alum and guitarist Dane Johnson, Rick Parker (trombone), Ezra Gale (bass), and Shawn Baltazor (drums), rushes into the fray of Beninghove’s compositions, firmly adding their stamp. Like the transmissions from outer space of “Astronete,” with its layers of crazed horns and swaying Brazilian percussion, thanks to Ze Mauricio, or like the spaghetti-western ready “Pineapples & Ashtrays.” The tracks have a bite and a sense of freedom, but without abandoning a hummable, danceable quality that sticks pleasantly in the ear.

The secret: Taking avant arrangement techniques and anchoring them in sharp melodies and general goofiness. “Instead of making a piece E min 13b9, I have one guy play E and one play F. There’s a lot of stuff on the album that’s in different keys, like ‘Terminator,’” explains Beninghove, referring to his homage to Public Enemy’s DJ and producer. “The bass is in E, some of us are in E flat, and the guitar is in F minor. It’s very polytonal, but when you throw a strong melody and some humor, you make it listenable.”

The balance between the ensemble’s intense musicianship and outrageous willingness to try anything makes for music that escapes the confines of novelty and avant snobbery and sticks to its wacky, cinematic guns. “I’m not sitting here thinking about what direction the band or the music should take,” says Beninghove. “I do what tickles my fancy. I do stuff that makes me laugh, but there’s a seriousness to the playing.”