KMRU
Kin
Editions Mego
When KMRU released Peel in 2020 on Editions Mego, it captured the zeitgeist perfectly. Infused with field recordings, flecks of ’90s electronica and occasional rushes of noise, the LP was a gentle, enveloping listen and one of the best ambient releases of the year—a year, you’ll likely recall, that was absolutely flooded with ambient records. (The pandemic lockdowns undoubtedly had something to do with that, but excitement for the genre was so high at the time that even The Guardian was pushing Alex Rita’s NTS show.) Since his breakthrough, the Nairobi born, Berlin-based artist has slowly shifted away from the subtle textures of that release, exploring the afterlife of colonialism via objects, unleashing towering blasts of sound alongside Aho Ssan and crafting his own wonderfully abrasive electroacoustic experiments on 2024’s Natur.
His latest release, Kin, is a return to Editions Mego and feels like a natural sequel to Peel, as the focus is once again on the drawing out of subtle, harmonious loops that slowly undulate into alternating shapes. Listening to the 20-plus minutes of “By Absence,” one initially slips right back into the same meditative state that Peel conjured up. As it proceeds at a decidedly unhurried pace, the subtle changes in texture and tone are almost imperceptible, but that doesn’t mean nothing is happening. KMRU excels in this mode, and by the final act of “By Absence,” the song has been transformed into a crushing wall of post-punk feedback.
It’s this addition of distortion that is both the hallmark of Kin and the clearest demonstration of KMRU’s evolution as an artist. He’s made no secret about how much he admires Fennesz—the two toured the US together in 2022—and their collaboration here, “Blurred,” reorients KMRU’s horizontal sound design with the rushing swells of the Austrian legend’s guitar. Even when Fennesz isn’t around, the album is colored by guitar-like distortion—guitar-like because KMRU is coaxing these sounds not from a Fender, but from his machines. The final third of “With Trees We Can See,” for example, builds to an emotional punch of wailing feedback that sits somewhere between Explosions in the Sky and Jim O’Rourke. KMRU’s skills also shine on “We Are,” where he twists a gorgeous synth melody inside out, as though he’s wringing water out of his studio speakers.
Kin is another standout release from one of this decade’s most exciting experimental producers, and considering that it’s both an Editions Mego homecoming and a record that features a collaboration with Fennesz, it also feels like the passing of the baton from one generation to the next.
 |
|