The city groans and grinds on and on. Even in the most tranquil escapesthe roar of traffic is ever present. Maybe for many trapped in therepetition of 9 to 5 it gets blanked out with familiarity. However,travel to the other side of the world to an alien culture and the earsmight prick up. Paul Kirk, a Scotsman relocated to Tokyo, becamefascinated by the urban drone, flux and shuffle all around him. AsAkatombo, he reconfigures the heart of that busy city atmosphere into adislocated merry-go-round ride that is occasionally ominous but usuallybeat happy. Informed by hip hop, but in no way beholden to it, Akatombofinds the drone at the heart of the city and makes it sing. Mobilephones wail, radios tune in and out, babbling voices appear and vanishinto the crowd. This is like a wind blowing a dense smog intofascinating new shapes, a mind grooving on the endless noise of fastpaced city life. Like labelmates Silo, Akatombo manages to sound atonce human and machine, catching the future as it flies. Somecomparisons would be King Coffey's Drain, Muslimgauze and even Faust,the diversity of whom should give some idea of the originality here.This is a hell of an addictive listen and is easily the best album I'veheard from a new artist this year. Gulping oxygen beyond a sea ofMogwai impersonators, Akatombo pushes the 'post-rock' envelope intopositive new shapes. If enough people were clued up to this it couldraise the stakes like that first Tortoise album did. samples:
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