Cody Steinmann Turns Trauma Into Unfiltered Truth on Stray Bullet Blues

Most jazz albums do not begin with violence. Cody Steinmann did.

The Minneapolis-based guitarist, composer, and improviser is not interested in turning pain into a mythologised origin story for an artist. Stray Bullet Blues is a fully instrumental body of work shaped by something far more immediate. A violent moment that shattered any illusion of safety and forced everything into sharp focus.

On October 7, 2023, a stray bullet tore through Steinmann’s home. No one was physically harmed, but the psychological impact lingered. Instead of retreating inward, Steinmann picked up his guitar and let the emotion speak for itself. What emerged is a volatile blend of jazz, blues, metal, and rock that mirrors the unpredictability of trauma.

The album moves like a sequence of emotional states. It opens with “I Feel Like We’re Bleeding,” a slow-burning eruption that captures shock and hyper awareness. That unease escalates on “I Feel Like We’re Dying,” an eight-minute spiral through fear, adrenaline, and mental overload.

By the time the title track “Stray Bullet Blues” arrives, the album begins to reclaim the moment rather than relive it. “Who Am I” leans into vulnerability, using restraint and space as emotional tools. Tracks like “Fleeting Moments” and “Patience And Understanding” soften the edges without losing weight, tracing a gradual return to clarity.

The record closes with “They Are You” and its companion track, reinforcing the project’s core message of empathy and connection when it feels hardest to reach out. Steinmann assembled a formidable lineup to carry that weight. JD Allen on tenor sax, Solomon Parham on trumpet, Chris Bates on bass, and Abinnet Berhanu on drums all bring restraint, fire, and intention.

The entire album was recorded in six hours. No overdubs. No polish. Just five musicians responding to the same emotional current in real time.

Despite its intensity, Stray Bullet Blues is rooted in forgiveness and empathy. It does not explain itself or soften its edges. It simply tells the truth, without words, in a language that cuts deeper than explanation.

This is not a record designed to comfort. It is designed to wake you up and maybe help you feel again.

That moment the bullet entered your home, how did the shock settle into music instead of silence? At what point did you know this experience had to become a full album?

I think the next day is when it hit me. I didn’t know how to process it. I was in such shock as to what happened and how much damage a single stray bullet could do. I felt blessed, because it could have been much worse. But I didn’t really have words to describe how I felt. I just knew I had a yearning for connection at that point. All I could really feel was energy and it came to me as music. I was almost a sort of bystander in the whole process. 

This project pulls from jazz, metal, blues, rock, and improvisation in a way that feels almost volatile. How did the emotional state you were in shape the sonics of each track?

I’ve always been influenced by a wide variety of music. I never really saw the difference between genres, they’ve always been music to me. I did feel strongly about certain types of music at certain times, but no matter what “mask” I put on as a kid I actually did enjoy all styles of music. I’m neurodivergent, so I have a different angle on all of this. The volatility probably comes from the loops of emotions I felt throughout the coming weeks and months after the event. It was truly an emotional rollercoaster for me. Each of the tracks represents a different emotional state somewhere in that cycle. 

You recorded this entire album in six hours with an elite lineup. What did that session feel like? Were you all tapping into the same emotional current, or did each musician interpret the moment differently? 

Yes, it was great! I did a lot of learning making this record. It felt intense, I feel we were all on edge due to the times we’re living in. Everyone absolutely crushed it though. We all knew the story and they were in communication with me during or shortly after the event, so I think that energy permeated the room. We all knew we only had one day in the studio to make it happen too, so we were very focused. 

You’ve said you hope this album teaches people empathy and forgiveness. What part of the creative process pushed your own understanding of those concepts the most?

Yes I do hope the album teaches people to empathize with one another and helps us to forgive each other and ourselves. I feel like we’re all too hard on one another. The creative process taught me how to forgive people, and how to truly let go. It led me to James Baldwin interviews that affirmed my perspective and also taught me to see others more deeply as part of myself too. Which in turn led me to having a better and more kind relationship with myself. I had a lot of hate in me after this, I learned to let it go completely. I learned all safety is an illusion. I had a clearer idea in my mind of how to hold others accountable and forgive, while not socially isolating them. 

Your work is always pushing genre boundaries, but this album feels like a deeper evolution. After Stray Bullet Blues, what does “jazz” even mean to you now?

I don’t know, I honestly don’t think about it much. Jazz is a four letter word. Depending on the context, to me, it refers to a particular approach to articulation, rhythm, form, phrasing and space that is inherent in the tradition of Black American Music. More personally, I agree with Wayne Shorter that Jazz means “I Dare You”. I believe what I enjoy about this music the most is the swing and the freedom. I’m eternally grateful that I get to participate in creating and making the music I do today. I hope others will continue to step out without a net and put their work out there.