Marco Benevento

Marco Benevento has always moved like someone who understands the studio as its own
instrument, not just a room where the toys are. Long before he began popping up on stages
with Freddie Gibbs and Madlib, and in the liner notes of albums by Clairo and Leon Bridges,
Benevento was already thinking like a producer — listening for texture, tension and negative
space, and the strange emotional alchemy that occurs when groove and curiosity collide.

Across several albums and a touring life that’s taken him from Coachella to Newport Jazz
Festival, Fuji Rock to Bonnaroo, Benevento has cultivated a devoted fanbase by refusing
genre loyalty. Jazz, rock, psych, funk, indie — these aren’t lanes so much as raw materials. The
Los Angeles Times once described his approach as a “genre-blind mashup,” while NPR Music
praised his ability to balance “the thrust of rock, the questing of jazz and the experimental
ecstasy of jam.” That balance has become his calling card in the studio, where his sensitivity
to arrangement and mood has made him a sought-after collaborator for artists working in vast
universes.

As a collaborator, Benevento’s résumé reads like a map of modern, genre-fluid music: Clairo’s
intimate pop, Kali Uchis’ velvet psychedelia, Kevin Morby’s pastoral indie rock, Lady
Wray’s deep-pocketed funk. Wherever he’s working, Benevento brings the same sensibility:
respect the song, then gently bend it until it reveals something new. His keyboards frame, color,
and converse.

“Frizzante” bubbles with the kind of buoyant charm longtime Benevento listeners will recognize
immediately. “Turandot,” featuring the Italian vocalist Marianne Mirage, is Stereolab meets
Portishead, a sauntering tune with a dreamy aura.