Panasonic
Kulma

Panasonic is not just a brand of telephones and other technological contraptions. Not only.

Panasonic is a Finnish group (initially a trio and subsequently a duo) forced in '99 to change their name to Pan Sonic. "Kulma" is the album that has been recommended to me several times: their second work which this year turns exactly ten years old.

"Kulma" is primarily a foreign, different, almost hostile album in certain respects towards the listener (perhaps in this case it's more appropriate to speak of a consumer). Devoted to the most cerebral and complex electronic experimentation, conceptual and aimed at physically disturbing as well.

Mika Vainio and Ilpo Vaisanen are dedicated to music inspired by industrial/electro groups like Kraftwerk, Einstürzende Neubauten, Clock DVA and simultaneously attracted by certain prophetic composers like Pierre Henry or Luigi Russolo; moreover, they are among the first to organize raves, even illegal ones, in Finland and this experience will significantly mark their sound research, bringing them closer to the geometric and spatial rhythms of the Detroit verb. Those masses of people in ecstasy before their eyes have driven them to question what other effects exposure to extreme frequencies might have and to give birth to a quite radical sonic experimentation. Using mainly analog instruments and inventing their own, they have created a sound capable of baffling anyone... Sharp rustles like nails, syncopated and inhuman beats, acidic reverberations, artificial distortions, stinging pulses, indecipherable modulations and above all the (almost) total absence of melody are the ingredients of this separate universe.

"Kulma" is an album that should be experienced in its entirety, even though it's not an easy experience; at the same time, Kulma is a record that can be appreciated for its details: the rhythmic outbursts at the end of Vapina, that terribly fascinating yet disturbing reverse sound at the beginning of Puhdistus, the rubbery (almost dub) mood that reigns in Jackso, that spectral sound in the background of Hahmo, the ghostly landscapes that characterize -25 (it really feels like being in a frozen desert at that temperature), the broken and poorly tuned rhythms that make Rutina an environmental and mechanical jungle.

Pay attention to the alienating techno-noise suite that closes the album and you will get an idea of why there's a rumor that the music of Panasonic can even provoke physiological reactions (as well as a bit of unease and amazement) in living beings (there are talks of sore throats, nausea, or migraines in humans up to the alleged death of a cow grazing not far from where their performance was held).

"Kulma" is a challenging album mainly because it doesn't give a damn about being liked.

It's a punch in the gut: once you've listened to it you can't forget it (even though you probably would want to)...