kirameki

Kirameki
A fit of the jerks
bear suit

Music Jim but not as you know it.

More likely to give your hi-fi a breakdown and you a nose bleed, Kirameki are clearly demented and creatively insane individuals. it’s a combination much lauded here – if only there were more like them.

‘A fit of the Jerks’ is as apt a titled album as you’re ever likely going to come across, talk about doing what it says on the tin, the mysterious Japanese / English duo known only _ and + are clearly on a different radar to the rest of us, a disturbed and freakish collaborative hybrid who craft a strange and unsettling nu age acrylic art pop sound-scape. They are the quintessential flies in the ointment.

First appearing on our viewfinder courtesy of their excellently wayward ‘exercises in style’ EP via the Dutch imprint Rack and Ruin (incidentally all of the tracks from which feature here including the previously unplayable ’John Lennon Vs. the Martians’ – for review see missive 169) the impish Kirameki freewheel with undeterred flippancy and deconstructive delight through an abyss of the surreal and the abstract (especially ‘bubble car pileup‘ wherein the fusion of cut up collages and classical florets readily imagine a head on collision between Cornelius and Stockhausen), the sounds within bordering between the manic, the chaotic, the childlike and the challenged. All at once perplexing, playful and pulsating, 18 tracks feature on this their debut full length (though it should be pointed out that only 17 are credited on the sleeve).

A freakish floorshow of skittish beats, wired to the teeth sampling and random frenetic eruptions are the order of the day, familiar sounds are dismembered as though a performing autopsy is being undertaken, elements of classicism (note the skewed and bent out of shape Debussy flurries within ‘exercises in style’ – anti pop purists will love the erstwhile brief Duran Duran nod and ensuing dismissal while those preferring their sounds – shall we say – a little best experienced from behind the safe haven of a sofa should seek out ‘the Viennese opera ball’ which opts for a spot of sinister glassy noir chilled key tinkles) rub shoulders with blip core to be channelled and refracted through a fractured kaleidoscope whose dialect is indelibly grasped of flux and Dadaist mindsets. In terms of reference points Kirameki are kindred spirits of Casino Vs. Japan, Atari Teenage Riot and Pop Off Tuesday and mine similar unclassified pop dimensions as esteemed imprints such as Tigerbeat6, Emperor Norton and Wobblyhead, the fried and frayed elements coming into detached clarity on ’morgan house cutter’ wherein fuzz laced flashbacks scour and scald amid chiming celestial crystal bowed overtures and glacial b-movie cascades much recalling Roy Budd in presence.

‘A fit of the jerks’ pushes, pulls and jolts you through the paces, erratic as well as at times eerie, Kirameki have this engaging knack of continually pulling the rug from beneath your feet, its not so strange to find that one minute your being serenaded by disarming braids of lulling key motifs as on ’bubble car pileup’ the next literally being pinned to the wall of your listening space by the disjointed schisms bleaching the grooves of ’sayonara, gangsters’ – a warped and rapid fire aural assault of demonic squeaky toys, rampant beats and dragster fuzz scorched twang – you have been warned. Or maybe you fancy some demented uprising of typewriters decorated with an insane industrial tinged hollowing regal-ness as on ‘my cloud’ where nods are made in the general direction of Add N to X’s ‘Add insult to Injury’ or the Radiophonic styled monochromatics of the snow globed and odd ‘kirameki‘ all impishly fleshed out with bizarre key changes, ad hoc time signatures, clockwork motifs and a threatened sense of unruliness. Elsewhere you’ll find some neat Dadaist lounge groove via ‘cooper’s shoes’, mutant industrial funk (the unaccredited 17th track) and Zorn like crookedness on ‘derecci edited himself’. Sadly ’wave of imitation’ – an obvious nod to the Pixies track ’wave of mutilation’ is alas not a carnage frenzied dismemberment of the same track but a frankly barking frequency modulating slice of whirring drones and haunting Oriental apparitions – very unsettling with the subtle lolloping folk mirages barely detected in the background very much cut with a Sunburned Hand of the Man type zeal.

We suggest you blitz the in boxes of those Riley and Maconie radio types and demand that Kirameki be elevated to the ranks of house band – do you want their email to save farting about in web world – its stuart.6music@bbc.co.uk and marc.6music@bbc.co.uk – ah well there’s goes the hopes of a career in Broadcasting up the shoot.

http://www.myspace.com/bearsuitrecords

Key tracks –

bubble car pileup
Sayonara, gangster
John lennon vs. the martians
My cloud

first aired – November 2008

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