Released through Dagoretti Records, Opaquer is fashioned in the underbelly of emotional reprise, split against the backdrop of wild cinematic sounds and field recordings and woven into refined passages of audio collages. KMRU is Joseph Kamaru, a Kenyan musician apart of the pioneering African electronic scene, unifying the all of the human mind.
“Lantern” blazes a lantern, melting the moonlight breeze. Muffled piano glows tonal breaths, sliding us through the chilly, choral winds. An orchestral environment brushing into a posture, the infinity of violins layered with soft brass instruments, vacillating volume. Subtlety is a dream, and the music immerses us into its flexible stream. Weaving the notations of mellifluous order, touching and consuming symphonic harmony. “Errant Walls” ascends a shower of shimmering trees slowly, drawing the new chime of changing disposition. The walls of this space spark with electricity swirling and guiding our ears into slumbering fields. Golden embers from sonic staves rise to pursue this ephemeral architecture, neither the sepulcher of loss nor jovial winds, but balance meditating rhythmic plights. Synths flex and somersault through silky diagrams until arriving at “Lulla” with plush, sonic winds grazing clattering sticks. Magical sounds heed in vacuous spaces of existential longevity. The sound of organism’s dance and trickle as an extra theater of synth waves moving then cuts us into its current. “Opaque” completes this image with envelopes of shattered electric folds, sliding as silvery discs across 2-dimensional surfaces of the music’s membrane. Ingenious repetition spliced and effected in reverse, the shutters of sonic stars opening and closing silently in the background, painting the musical sky in harmonic rhythms. These sections immaculately descend into “Lost Ones,” which lurks to loom towards the surface. Faint species of bright channels turn like pages of memory cascading impatiently. The alien synths sing low feedback, gripping us into a strength, difficult comprehending while also a relaxing voyage through an unknown center in KMRU’s artistic galaxy.
Rummaging in the background grows, then descends – painting the next song’s atmosphere. Blending, nicely, a conjoined dream. “Mean Farms” bounces resonators eliciting imagery of a spherical metal organ rolling across the resting equipment. Sounds associate their source but through a dignified whole; and resting in a formidable development of interpretative elements. The feedback and low-bearing fruits of tonality exit, as “Dialog Needs,” commands communication. Lethargic in a sense, yet content in an evolutionary prowess, smooth bass kicks sway towards bouncing effect, relating to monotones, leveling with the rustling in the back growing and deepening its breath. The sounds rocket into the brightest galactic organ. White noise encompasses the ambiance, vacillating sound waves in a current, relaxed and free of transgression. Brass sounds raise the vacuous atmosphere into a sense of what OPAQUER holds in a hidden dimension. With this remote, dimensional function, the music conjures into our final travel, “Canthenta.” Bubbling into atomized percussions, shaking grains of finely articulated elements, flushing its crevice with electronic textures billowing and roaring as a thousand dried oceans, opening into the mouth of its shore. Briefly, the music dips, leveling within the kaleidoscope of rummaging mixtures of elongated sound quality, coupled with ingenious designs of filaments creating distorted landscapes. Sounds of broken circuitry are hauntingly satisfying, even with the sonic’s added frequency, which is only half of this chilling sector.
Joseph Kamaru is incredible in his ability to take arbitrarily trashed angles, require into their geometric expression, and transpose the imaginative qualities pursued – into poetry stringing sublime life into its original instrumentation. His flexible abilities were apparent from beginning to end. Pursuing an excellent environmental progression, where its study on the living and dying of sounds is one, indeed, for the stars.