Boomkat Product Review:
Emptyset's James Ginzburg teams up with chameleonic producer Ziúr for a gravity-defying set of apocalyptic lullabies and malfunctioning beat experiments. Mangled pop musick fer damaged minds >> like Loraine James or Telefon Tel Aviv circling the cosmic drain with Mika Vainio and Coil.
Last year, after Ginzburg had completed "Crystallise, A Frozen Eye" and Ziúr had finalized Spring's PAN-released "Antifate", the two friends realized they had a gap in their respective schedules. Eager to find a new project to fill their lockdown hours, they began shuttling sketches and sounds to each other that quickly developed into proper songs. While their respective solo albums may have been locked into a specific stylistic channel, this impromptu collaboration was an opportunity to touch the third rail and see what might happen. The result was Myxomy, a new project that finds both artists on a melancholy pop tip, trading vocals over damaged beatscapes and enchantingly unexpected instrumentation.
They aren't exactly strangers to pop forms. Ginzburg's lone Digitalis-released album as Faint Wild Light was a low-key ambient folk gem, and Ziúr spent years playing in bands before locking into the solo experimental mode. "Myxomy" takes these root sounds and develops them into debut with a defined sense of identity. Ziúr's squelchy, neon synths are front and center on 'Sloppy Attempt', but it's her molten sci-fi vocals that provide the real focus. She manipulates her voice as if it's clay, forming words and syllables into chattering earworm phrases over Ginzburg's rolling neo-trip hop beat.
Ginzburg handles vocal duties on 'A Little Opaque', twisting k-holed melodies over Ziúr's stuttering industrial beats and a disorienting hurdy-gurdy drone. That hurdy-gurdy plays a more central role on 'In and Until', with the ages-old sound forming a de-facto lead as Ziúr fashions rhythms from pulled packing tape and wood block cracks. It sounds like Goblin's terrifying "Suspiria" soundtrack re-imagined for our looming augmented reality era. On 'It is it Everything', the unsettling mood is sustained as micro-tuned glass bowls and plates provide a gamelan-esque foil for Ginzburg's robotic crooning.
"Eat the rich, and throw up on the fuckbois," Ziúr coos on 'Toxin Out' thru buzzing machinery and frothy synths. It's a sobering message that glues the duo's labyrinthine pop to our awkward contemporary reality with a wry smile and a wink to camera.