Yuka Honda
Eucademix

It seems that on DeBaser, these days, there's a trend towards reviewing semi-obscure works by "visionary" artists from the Far East, preferably female. So, let's add to the dose with this one: it's not about the much-anticipated second effort by Okkyung Lee, the ingenious Korean cellist from Tzadik who many have shown to appreciate, nor the mysterious Wu Fei, champion of the new Chinese avant-garde whom I've promised to present to you, sooner or later. First, if you allow, there's this eccentric and wacky Japanese doll to pay homage to, an exceptional frequent visitor (and animator) of the experimental underground "made in N.Y.C." ecosystem, accustomed to being on first-name terms with people like Marc Ribot, Arto Lindsay, John Zorn; who, by the way, as the true "connoisseur" he is, didn't miss the chance to bring her into his fold.

Her surname is "Honda," and indeed she's used to racing, anticipating trends, assimilating them and (often) mocking them, thanks to a unique and enviable concept of "do-it-yourself electronics" that has the gift of flummoxing the most traditionalist purists; she does everything "in-house," meaning she records in a self-set-up studio, and she does it surprisingly well, but without ever taking herself too seriously, without ensconcing herself in the classic "ivory tower" where so many avant-gardists (but also pseudo ones, quite often) enjoy self-indulging. She isn't afraid, of taking long breaks, leading a "career" marked by the utmost irregularity (3 albums in 10 years, just to be clear), she doesn't care about classifications of any kind, nor about crafting products that might be marketable. Her works are rather creative outbursts, with no ambition of completeness nor the claim to be defined as "masterpieces": this is the unique beauty of Yuka's art: a Pop art that mocks the intangible unnaturalness of the contrived Pop of our times, an art avant-garde but not a cold "laboratory" product, a music that has the traits of something alive, spontaneous, (super)abundant in colors and disjointed scribbles, a kaleidoscope of paths where it is advisable to get lost rather than seek a direction. Because perhaps she doesn't even know, sometimes, where she's heading: her frescoes are "impressions" (rather than true paintings) of unmatched incoherence and irregularity.

And she is very good, if we want, also at debunking the myth of the "electro-artist" as the classic artist who "makes music without playing," a cliché actually widespread since the days of early "ambient" Eno: she's a multi-instrumentalist, the one you'll hear in "Eucademix" (her second work for Tzadik, from 2004), who effortlessly transitions from keyboard programming to bass, of which she learned the basics from her partner Sean Lennon, also engaging in accompanying vocalizations; although, from this perspective, the contribution of the inseparable Miho Hatori is more indispensable than ever, the other half of the "Cibo Matto" project, lead vocalist on the sung tracks of a predominantly instrumental album; an album suspended between "Acid-Rock" suggestions, psychedelic moods, and industrial technology, which feeds off sequencing and Hip-Hop rhythms as well as the delicacy of more decorously "classical" moments (see the bass-harpsichord dialogue in "Phantomime"). For this reason, it's an album capable of satisfying a wide range of listeners, from the trivial and obsessive Dance of "I Dream About You" (Hatori's robotic voice against a background of sampled Italian phrases), the ethnic moves of "When The Monkey Kills," the bewildered "symphony" of "Humming Song" and the inevitable tribute to the gastronomy of the Beautiful Country in "Limoncello" (Kraftwerk-like rhythm and isolated synth-bass pulsations). Passing through the electronic "divertissement" of "Twirling Batons In My Head," the piano interlude of "Seed Of Seed Of Peach," and Marc Ribot's "cosmic" guitar in "Spooning With Jacknife" and other pieces.

No rating: an album just to listen to, not to judge: because I could bet that Yuka doesn't care at all about numbers and ratings. Says someone who isn't a fan of certain electronics but who also can't remain indifferent in the face of such creative flair. That, believe me, of one of the best Musicians of our time. Traditionalists won't like it, there's no doubt, but for "Zornians" open to electronics, it's an opportunity not to be missed.