Himuro lurches around the dance floor like a club-footed DJ. His new
record, Clear Without Items, is glitch-hop, scarred beatbox music
marred by cut-ups, drop-outs, flashbacks and creative 8-bit editing.
Himuro, who has been damaging polyrhythms since 1997 (and will
apparently continue to do so with an upcoming release scheduled for
Zod Records), twists instrumental music into mutant structures,
pushing flashbacks into his acid and doing deconstructive surgery on
his hip-hop. He doesn’t play mad scientist as much as Otto von
Shirach or some of the other spastic beat splicers; Himuro prefers
tunes with a bit of laconic grace to them — his downtempo offerings
feel more like a casual stutter than an adrenochrome-fueled display of
Tourette’s Syndrome.
“Start Play Guitar” shuffles around a looped acoustic melody, an
accelerated translation of the loop as if the turntable has been
pitched forward to the +8 edge. Glitch elements squirt and squelch
around the melody, squawks of noise and back-masked cadence that give
the track its hopping, shuffling rhythm. “Bottomless Dancefloor”
percolates like a pool of hot springs, and the MC who rises from the
bubbling mix finds his rhymes are subject to the same burping, popping
hiccup as the melodic line. “Fool and Scissors” is a sprightly analog
melody with soap bubbles in its hair prancing about in a field of
summer daisies, cheerfully snipping the heads off the flowers with a
pair of metal shears. “Requiem of Me” turns violins into noise-pitched
banshees, wailing strands of sound that make the song an internalized
dialog of despondency and melancholy. As counterpoint to the cheerful
playfulness surrounding it, “Requiem of Me” is actually one of my
favorite tracks from the record as the sad robot sounding result of
the digital skewering is a distinctive voice over the foundation of
orchestral strings.
Himuro is clearly having fun with his equipment and the dancing analog
melodies (like those in “Party Boy”) are consistently full of
effervescent innocence. His cut-ups and drop-outs are filled with
childlike mischief like the light hand of a prankster on the knob.
The vocal track of “Party Boy” is an anime squeak, a wide-eyed
insouciance that nearly screams “My Pokemon are better than yours.”
When he knocks his rhythms up a notch (“Clear With Items” and, even
faster, “Clear Without Items”), the melodies are still 8-bit video
game soundtracks (though much snappier and more delightful than
anything I’ve heard recently coming out of a video game).
Flush with bubbling synth pads and the charming simplicity of 8-bit
melodies, Clear Without Items is a record that doesn’t take itself
very seriously and clearly expects the listener to come to the party
with the same attitude. Himuro’s casual attitude shouldn’t be
mistaken for lack of musicianship or technical ability; the songs on
Clear Without Items just sound like they’re made of simple sugars.
Tasty on the outside, dense underneath: it can take a lot of licks to
get to the center of this lollipop.
Clear Without Items is out now on Couchblip!
