Sd Laika
That's Harakiri

There is something hypnotic and addictive about Sd Laika's music.

Do you know that feeling of curiosity, towards something mysterious, yet for some strange reason fascinating? And I say mysterious because not much is known about this project, which came out in 2014 via Tri-Angle.

We at least know who is behind all this, namely Peter Runge, a young man from Milwaukee in his first full-length experience, after the small EP released in 2012, Unknown Vectors. It's a pity that this person is a sort of ghost, an ectoplasm, a momentary apparition that leaves no traces.

His music, on the other hand, is something tangible and highly toxic, polluting. A product divided into eleven steps, eleven smoking residues of non-music, hybrid and alienated, in symbiosis between the claustrophobic noise of the Whitehouse school and the extravagant yet orderly collages of Aphex Twin and Burial.

But let's take it step by step.

To the ear, That's Harakiri sounds almost dated, obsolete. The sound quality is (deliberately?) rarefied.

An urban greyness where the machines are indeed rusty, dusty, creaky, but continue to pulse with energy, in what is a dark and strictly lo-fi production that knows how to combine IDM, grime, glitch music, and noise with the most vivid and dense UK school techno. Powerful bass, but never static or monotonous, always tense, aided by vapor layers of voices, synthesizers, and samples.

Take "Great God Pan", "You Were Wrong", or "Don’t Know", and in these continuous sinister, even tribal (!) beats sometimes, even when the music itself is exasperated by being so heavily acidic, the listener can find an insane addiction. An addiction for an almost non-existent song form, yet at the same time rich in reference points and memorable moments, as in "Remote Heaven", great to pair with your favorite sci-fi film.

In half an hour and a bit more of robotic and industrial intensity, That's Harakiri is a successful experiment. A different, infectious sound, a delirium that will be particularly appreciated by all those in friendship with that more mechanical and morbid electronic music, far from radio-friendly, colorful tunes.

Greetings to the readers of Debaser!