This is one of those rare collaborations in which I had absolutely no idea what kind of album to expect, as the only obvious common ground this duo shares is a strong interest in sound design, though it is probably safe to say they are both drawn to unusual projects too given their past involvement with Rắn Cạp ĐuôI Collective. Now that I have heard Myxomy, however, I am faced with the fresh challenge of describing a vision that is elusively shapeshifting, kaleidoscopic, and wrong-footing from start to finish. I suppose the most consistent aesthetic is something akin to "half-deconstructed/half-maximalist outsider R&B" or some similarly heretofore nonexistent genre, but the real theme seems to exclusively be one of endless mutation. In fact, the idea for the collaboration originally began with James Ginzburg sending Ziúr some beats from his early techno days, which triggered a dueling exchange of raw material reworkings that rapidly escalated and morphed until the "duo's fragmented sketches and scribbles took on new life" that "developed into anxious, hybridized pop jewels." To be fair, Myxomy is admittedly poppier than I ever would have anticipated, but this project is waaaaay too weird, fractured, and unpredictable to ever be mistaken for actual pop (jewels or otherwise). It mostly feels more like a handful of hooks wandering through a collapsed post-industrial landscape in search of a proper home. I am not sure any of them ever quite found one (seems doubtful), but some of these experiments are impressively visceral and unique in their own right (even if they can sometimes be a real challenge to digest).
I suspect the title of the opening "Sloppy Attempt" provides some self-deprecating insight into the mindset that Ginzburg and Zi√∫r brought to the Myxomy vision, as it seems like the pair genuinely delighted in breaking and stretching each other's work and all other concerns were purely secondary. That is not intended as a disparagement, but the primary pleasures of this album are definitely in the vein of "this is a playground where songs convulse and break in interesting ways" rather than "check out all these hot new singles we wrote." Helpfully, "Sloppy Attempt" is also one of the more representative pieces on the album, as a blooping synth hook seems to keep wandering off course rather than locking into a groove. Nevertheless, a groove eventually does take shape (albeit fitfully) and the piece blossoms into a seething and moody song of sorts. In the rare moments where the beat does not collapse and the bass line is allowed to unfold naturally, it is not hard to see the ghost of a much catchier song lurking inside it all, but the overall impression is one of a remixer purposely stretching and pushing that hapless piece past its breaking point to see what happens.
The following “A Little Opaque” takes a similar trajectory, as a squirming and glistening synth pile-up sluggishly lurches forward along with spectral vocals and thudding, slow-motion drums. Naturally, every time it threatens to catch fire, it quickly gets pulled apart, ravaged by static, smeared, or broken in some way. "Make self-sabotage an art form" definitely seems to have been a guiding principle here. That said, the following three-song run can be quite impressive at times. The hot streak begins with "In and until," which sounds like a howling, junkyard percussion variation upon the massive rattling metal strings of Ginzburg's last solo album (Crystallise, A Frozen Eye). Next, "It is it everything" unleashes an absolutely killer motif that sounds like a haunted, lysergically smeared vibraphone enhanced with lots of wonderfully clattering and ringing metallic textures. It is a bit too sizzling and erratic to make a strong single though, which seems like a real missed opportunity. In fact, I strongly feel it deserves its own remix album (collaborative cannibalization is in Myxomy's DNA, after all). Elsewhere, the heavy industrial crunch of the following "Toxin Out" admittedly feels closer to earthquake than groove, but it is damn hard not to be charmed by the rousing chorus of "eat the rich and throw up on the fuckbois." The closing "Nuance Unseen" (another self-deprecating title) is also quite enjoyable in a seething/clattering/industrial-damaged R&B way and makes some more fine use of howling violin. If someone threatened to kill me if I did not choose a single for this album, I would probably pick that one. For the most part, however, Myxomy's pleasures lie primarily in hearing Ginzburg and Ziúr inventively mangle each other's work and veer quite far off course from their expected terrain (though fans of Ben Frost-style seismic intensity will likely find much to appreciate in that regard too).
Samples can be found here.
Montreal's Yoo Doo Right, aptly named after a very early Can track, are absolutely about that vibe; one doesn't need to be a keen listener to catch that early on. However, the band's debut album is not a duplicate of any single kosmische entity but rather a blend of each best. They have been doing their homework, revealing a deep respect for the genre. Their debut "Don't Think You Can Escape Your Purpose" provides some of the best modern space rock released this year, filled with motorik rhythms and atmospheric guitars backed by solid bass lines. The music feels free enough to go off on tangents but always comes back around, fluidly alternating from dreamy fuzz to delicate ambiance before rocking out motorik-style.
"Harpoon of Sunlight" sees Neil Lord's project Future Museums releasing on Austin label Aural Canyon, a label whose tagline reads "Deep listening for the new, now age." While Lord also releases on Holodeck, the switch is appropriate for his latest, a work initially conceived as "an hour and a half long album exercising patience and repetition," of which the most melodic portions were pressed to the first vinyl release for both the artist and label. Recorded in quarantine in 2020, the resulting album reflects the intense Texas summer heat, alternating between warming and traumatic, interrupted only by cooler evening breezes that serve as a reprieve. Inventive percussive sounds are delicately strewn through atmospheric synths and motorik rhythms, providing a balance between hard and soft, and hot to cool, serving as an aural respite for the challenges of the past couple of years.
The latest from Portland, Oregon's appropriately named M√∏trik consumed me in seconds, dragging my earholes down into a kosmische pool before spitting me into outer space. Thankfully, it was a pleasantly symbiotic relationship for me, a journey I enjoyed taking into M√ò√òN: The Cosmic Electrics of M√òTRIK. While M√∏trik may not yet stand alongside their elders in the history books, each of its practiced members form a tight rhythm section of bass and drums, knowing exactly when to lay on the space by way of thick layers of distortion and when to visit more ethereal territory.
This electro-acoustic release by Michèle Bokanowki consists of two pieces. "Rhapsodia" from 2018, is a stunning work in two movements with a short interlude, dedicated to choreographer, Marceline Lartigue. "Rhapsodia" is as close to perfection as I can imagine music to ever be, with the texture, the pace, the changes, and the timing of the changes all working in an organic and unhurried way. "Battlement solaires" from a decade earlier, is the soundtrack to Patrick Bokanowski’s film of that name. Initially I felt this second piece might be best heard with visual images, but by the third hearing I utterly love it as a stand alone work, too.
