Nothing could be more disconcerting or intriguing than
this extremely eclectic collection of songs and instrumentals
put together by Flokim Lucas and Jimi Bazzouka, who
go under the name of K.I.M. Even more difficult is trying
to make sense of their biography or the press release
that accompany this album. Mixing their own repertoire
with that of Asa
Chang & Junray, Edith Piaf, The Gun Club or
Pierre Bastien in no particular order and to name just
a few, the pair intentionally throw the listener in
some gigantic musical maelstrom, trashing everything
in their way, yet producing one of the most exhilarating
records around.
If the press release is to be believed, and nothing
points towards its presence being for such purpose,
Jimi Bazzouka, an American citizen, spent many years
in anti-capitalist protests around the globe before
joining an Icelandic hippie community as a gardener,
and finally settling down in another of the community’s
compounds, in the more hospitable climate of the South
Of France. There, he met Lucas, a Korean refugee, with
whom he manufactured voodoo dolls to promote the cult
of K.I.M. and also put this album together.
Nothing of the above matters much, and only seems to
underline the utter irrelevance of anyone’s journey
through life in respect to art. Yet, this absurd selection
of tracks appears to highlight some elements of this
journey, with elements of punk, alternative rock or
film music audaciously thrown in together, without apparent
link.
Surprisingly, despite the constant shift in style, this
album is incredibly consistent all throughout, and the
way it deals with excellence and cheapness with the
same unrepentant attitude seems to give each track a
unique relief. K.I.M.’s compositions, eight in
total, vary from the delicately sweet and innocent (Kim-Kus,
Death Of An Oakim) to the perversely spiritual
(Kimchi, Kimera) and the utterly ridiculous,
yet strangely compelling (their dark-electro reworking
of The Smiths’ Meat Is Murder is not
to be missed). These tracks blend in perfectly in the
magical conundrum that is Miyage. To understand
the logic of this record, the listener has to give up
any will to establish any correlation between the tracks
included here and let K.I.M. proceed, regardless of
the direction in which they choose to go, be it when
they mix Wevie Stonder with Edith Piaf or Asa
Chang & Junray with the Joubert Singers.
As enigmatic and fascinating as Bazooka and Lucas, Miyage
never reveals its purpose entirely, leaving the listener
with an impression of only understanding part of the
concept. Yet, its beauty shines through the voice of
Piaf, the abrasions of Psychic TV, the universality
of the Joubert Singers, the crooked machines of Pierre
Bastien, the innocent decadence of François De
Roubaix or the insanity of Wevie Stonder and K.I.M.’s
own compositions. This album is simply unique and totally
fascinating.
4.7/5 |
