Netwaves 315 Yuki Yaki by Humeka: A Weird, Wired Ride Through Sound and Silence
Alright, buckle up, because this one's a trip. Netwaves 315 Yuki Yaki isn’t your typical album—it’s more like an audio experiment that punches you in the face with its weirdness but somehow keeps you coming back for more. Released in 2009 under Belgium’s Netwaves label, it blends genres like Non-Music, Electronic, IDM, Techno, Minimal—you name it. Oh yeah, and there’s even an "Interview" style thrown into the mix. What does all that mean? Honestly, not much unless you're ready to dive headfirst into Humeka’s chaotic brain.
Let me break it down real quick. This ain’t no chill playlist; it’s abrasive, unpredictable, and kinda genius if you squint hard enough. Tracks like “Two Thousand Rulers” hit you with glitchy beats and stuttering rhythms that feel like they’re mocking you. It’s not pleasant, per se, but damn if it doesn’t stick in your skull. The track grabs hold of some industrial techno vibes while throwing curveballs at every turn—like when the bass drops out completely just to mess with your expectations. You think you’ve got it figured out? Nope, Humeka laughs in your face.
Then there’s “Orange Dying Sun,” which sounds exactly how the title makes you feel—apocalyptic yet strangely hypnotic. There’s this eerie synth line looping around like a broken record, layered over these sparse, almost lazy drum hits. It’s maddeningly simple yet impossible to ignore. If I had to pick one track from this album that could soundtrack the end of the world, this would be it. Like, imagine staring at a sunset as everything crumbles around you—that’s “Orange Dying Sun.”
The rest of the tracks follow suit, jumping between minimal soundscapes (“Fiilis”), quirky experiments (“10pint Wobble On”), and straight-up oddball moments (“Bored Of Canada”—seriously, what?). And let’s not forget the interview bits sprinkled throughout. Yeah, actual talking on an electronic album. Some might call it pretentious, but honestly, it adds another layer of WTF to the whole thing.
Here’s the kicker though: despite all the chaos, there’s something oddly cohesive about Yuki Yaki. Maybe it’s the fact that Humeka commits so hard to the absurdity that you can’t help but respect it. Or maybe it’s because listening to this feels like eavesdropping on someone else’s fever dream. Either way, it works—or at least it sort of does.
So here’s my takeaway: if you’re looking for background music to zone out to, skip this entirely. But if you want something that challenges your ears and fucks with your brain, give Netwaves 315 Yuki Yaki a shot. Just don’t blame me if you start questioning reality afterward. Also, random thought: whoever named the track “Until Next Time” clearly knew nobody would make it that far without losing their minds first. Cheers to that.
