Available at Amazon
OOIOO - Feather Float
Krautrock hit some people hard. In the late 90s, after Julian Cope's Krautrocksampler made early 70s German rock semi-common knowledge, everyone and their brother was name dropping Can, Amon Düül, and Kraftwerk. The especially savvy would bring up Neu!, not just because their albums were the most difficult to get your hands on (thereby ensuring maximum cred,) but because, of all the newly hip Teutonic oldsters, they had the most distinctive sound. Some of the more adventurous artists tried some Neu! on for size, which was not as easy as simply aping one or two nifty little sounds: Neu! were as straightforward as they were unusual, relying mainly on a monotone throb that lasted as long as the grooves would allow. The simple stuff is often the most difficult to do correctly, and of all the assorted groups that tried to integrate that driving pulse, OOIOO was one of the most successful.

In fact, this side project of Boredoms drummer Yoshimi P-We utilizes simple rhythmic throbs with such flexibility and unselfconsciousness that it seems a bit churlish to bring up Neu! at all. Whereas monotony was the key behind the German group, "Feather Float" is so varied and multi hued that it's easy to miss that repetition is the music's backbone. Percussive layer upon percussive layer swell up from the main beat, coloring and shifting reality until some ecstatic peak or another breaks the trance.

The album ostensibly has eleven tracks, and once it all sinks in it is indeed apparent that there's a different approach somewhere inside each, but "Feather Float" is really one long song. Putting this on an iPod to be played at random would be an exercise in futility, as the transitions between songs are as vital as the songs themselves, often coming off as simply a new wrinkle in the current song rather than an introduction. It's a nifty trick that adds immeasurably to the relentless forward momentum, almost as if it's a dance mix put together by a particularly resourceful DJ. Because of this, it's a brilliant workout album, brief breath-catching lulls in the mix notwithstanding.

The ultra colorful, energetically fragmented cover isn't just decoration: rhythmic insistence aside, the sonic palate of the album is similarly compelling. Occasionally manic, silly, or unironically beautiful, it's easy to get lost in the basic sound of the thing, which can combine soft chants, aggressive, bizarre  electronic spasms, funk bass, jew's harp and psychedelic guitar all at once (on "Baby Bamboo From Nose,") yet still come off as completely natural. "Ah! Yeah" sounds like a Brazilian tribe trapped in a UFO with cheery plucked guitars, frantic bongos, squishy electronics and P-We's triumphant shout: "Everybody Trance Now!" Then immediately into the nocturnal sprint of "Switch On," which finds the ever present pulse going underground to get ready for another shot at the sky. It's the rare album that's undiluted energy, yet rewards contemplative listening. There's just too much going on.

One point that bears mentioning is that "Feather Float" came out one year before The Boredoms' masterpiece, "Vision Creation Newsun," and bears no small resemblance to it. The Boredoms are often thought of as Yamantaka eYe's baby, and while it would be silly to suggest he's not the leading force, "Feather Float" can comfortably be thought of as VCN's loopier, more schizophrenic twin, an album that shares an almost identical uplift even as it goes into some very different directions.
return to the previous page
front page
ooioo main page