New Music From Koenjihyakkei, Beans
Koenjihyakkei
Dhorimviskha
(Skin Graft)
The explosive drummer and composer Tatsuya Yoshida is royalty in the Japanese fringe underground, best known as the sole consistent member of the long-running intense bass/drums duo Ruins, which is now just Yoshida continuing as “Ruins Alone.”
However, less talked about on this side of the pond is his prog-rock ensemble Koenjihyakkei, which, compared to Ruins, is equally insane and complex yet perhaps less consistently harsh.
The group’s new album Dhorimviskha comes 13 years after its previous studio album, and it’s a wild, caffeinated ride with an impossibly tight execution and breathtakingly complicated compositions.
The listener only needs to hear a taste of the opener, “Vleztemtraiv,” before deciding whether or not to love or hate this album. Its uncompromising, schizoid approach offers frequent song transitions, mind-bending instrumental runs and an impressively frantic organ solo toward the end before a barrage of jackhammer notes.
It aligns most closely with progressive rock and jazz fusion, but on paper, that description doesn’t do it justice. Yoshida makes it no secret that he is heavily influenced by the French prog-rock band Magma, and this writer would guess that fans of Henry Cow and Mahavishnu Orchestra might also embrace Koenjihyakkei.
The ensemble’s lead vocalist, AH, can go from dramatic operatic singing to jazz scatting in a heartbeat, and on “Levhorm,” her delivery simply oozes soul. The whole quintet exhibits this versatility, plus a turn-on-a-dime precision with genre-cut-ups that actually seem more natural than forced, in the group’s alternate universe.
Certain electric guitar timbres add a hard-rock edge, and some moments, when the band members are singing in unison, even bring to mind musical theater.
“Palbeth Tissilaq” may seem like a relatively accessible track, with patterns weaving in and out agreeably, but then out of nowhere, bam, a blast of metal-jazz erupts; the album ends strongly with the title track—an epitome of the group’s modus operandi., going from whimsical to crashing with aplomb.
Dhorimviskha is a dense album, but it’s not weighty; its attitude is often one of joy and exhilaration—carefully orchestrated, it’s not the sound of chaos but of order, magnified and intensified.
Beans
Nibiru Tut
(Hello.L.A.)
This writer didn’t expect to go down an Internet rabbit hole of bullshit doomsday theories connected with Egyptian symbology when researching the title of rapper and Anti-Pop Consortium co-founder Beans’ latest album, Nibiru Tut.
Some people would have you believe that a giant planet, named Nibiru or Planet X, will collide with Earth sometime in the near future (look up “Nibiru catalclysm” if you must), and the ancients held knowledge beyond the comprehension of modern scientists with regards to cosmic timekeeping and planetary paths.
Deep in this mire of pseudoscience, one nugget stood out, in a related thread’s discussion of hieroglyphics; one patron of the web proffered that one symbol on King Tut’s “hope chest” shows a serpent’s skin plus flowers, representing Lower and Upper Egypt—the conclusion is that King Tut has gone beyond reality in his search for reality.
This duality—immersion in reality while going beyond it—sums up Nibiru Tut, which was released on cassette on the French label Hello.L.A. and as a digital download.
Take the opening number “GETDA$$$$$” with thick, ambient electronic sounds, evoking sci-fi tension with a bed of industrial robotic hums and noises.
Beans then grabs the listener/astronaut and then hurls them back toward Earth with a barrage of grievances and issues, ripped from the headlines, that quickly pile up: the one percent, net neutrality, the environment, rampant incarceration, and so on. His delivery is self-righteous yet smoldering—not unhinged, seething or out of control.
The 15-minute “Catch My Sick” is gloriously messy and glitchy, with static-ridden synthetics, beats that are pitch-shifted down and guitar licks from guest musician Vernon Reid (of Living Colour); Beans’ woozy delivery has him rapping just above a whisper. “Midnight” is the musical equivalent of the doomsday clock, offering a laundry list of anxieties, while guest bassist Doug Wimbish serves up ‘80s-style thumps, slaps and pops with appropriately old-school drum machine beats.
The nightmarish, cosmic, dark ambiance of Beans’ backing tracks—typically far from the usual realms of hip-hop—would work well on their own, but that would be a sort of escapism outside of reality; however, Beans’ periodic tugs back to reality, in the form of his lyrics, offer the listener no escape.