A vast mechanized soundscape of turbulent drones and industrial chaos at its most creative.
I’m heading into Proof Of Existence with a blank slate, tuned in, and drifting full-speed into another dimension. Ikuko Morozumi develops vast mechanized soundscapes of turbulent drones and industrial chaos at its most creative. “Line” is perhaps the most definitive of the lot, its opening harsh sounds transform into a gelatinous beast. Elsewhere you’ll be hard-pressed not to find grinding beat-work scraping up against a wall of noise (ref. “Spirit” and “Time”).
While it may seem Ikuko Morozumi’s sonic variations intersect each other, there are sharpened gears rotating continuously on this 12-pack for Detroit Underground. At times molting from one layer to the next, Morozumi finds solace in roughened terrain, broken percussion, and dystopian forms that appear out of nowhere. This is at once evidenced on the peculiar rumbling of “Rain” and the rugged electro-clicks of “Point.” Perhaps more in tune with electrical debris and curiosity, “Thunder” reveals a soundtrack avalanche—a darkened world devoid of human activity and lifeforms. In the cataclysmic pitter-patter and digital fuzz of “Gale,” this album ultimately forages through exploratory electronics to the nth degree.
Derailing musical form, Morozumi etches out obscure, diverse, and often fractured rhythms through an unusual trajectory.
Proof Of Existence is available on Detroit Underground.
