Kurushimi – A Wild Ride Through Jazz and Grindcore Chaos (Album Review)
Alright, so let’s talk about Kurushimi, the self-titled debut album by the Australian band Kurushimi. Released in 2016 on Art As Catharsis Records and AM Frequencies, this thing is a wild mashup of free jazz, grindcore, and some seriously out-there free improvisation. It’s not your typical “put it on in the background while you cook dinner” kind of record. Nope. This one grabs you by the ears and shakes you around like a ragdoll.
First off, the lineup is nuts. You’ve got Kim Lawson shredding on alto, tenor, and baritone saxophones, James Ryan jumping between flute and baritone sax, Andrew Mortensen pulling double duty on bass and turntables (yes, turntables), and a whole crew of other talented weirdos bringing the noise. Oh, and did I mention Andrew Mortensen basically ran the show as producer, mixer, conductor, and even artwork guy? Dude clearly doesn’t sleep.
Now, onto the tracks. There are some bangers here, but two that really stuck with me were Onmoraki and In A Grove. Let’s break ‘em down real quick.
Onmoraki kicks things off with this eerie, almost cinematic vibe. The saxophones wail like banshees while the drums clatter away in the background like someone dropped a box of cutlery down the stairs. Then BAM—outta nowhere, it shifts into full-on grindcore chaos. Guitars screech, rhythms get all wonky, and just when you think you’ve got a handle on it, everything dissolves into this beautiful, messy jam session. It’s like watching a horror movie where the monster turns out to be…a jazz quartet? Yeah, that’s Onmoraki for ya.
Then there’s In A Grove, which feels like the calmer cousin of Onmoraki, but don’t let that fool ya. It starts off smooth, almost meditative, with these lush flute melodies floating over gentle percussion. But halfway through, it takes a sharp left turn into dissonant madness. The saxes start squealing, the drums go haywire, and suddenly you’re questioning whether you accidentally put on a different track. By the time it wraps up, you’re left wondering what the hell just happened—but in the best way possible.
What makes Kurushimi stand out is how fearless it feels. These guys aren’t trying to fit into any genre boxes or follow any rules. They’re just throwing paint at the wall and seeing what sticks. Sometimes it works brilliantly; sometimes it’s a bit of a mess. But honestly, that unpredictability is what makes it so damn fun to listen to.
And hey, can we take a sec to appreciate the sheer amount of work Andrew Mortensen put into this project? Like, seriously, dude was involved in basically every aspect except playing the drums and guitar. If that’s not dedication, I don’t know what is.
So yeah, Kurushimi might not be everyone’s cup of tea. If you’re looking for catchy hooks or radio-friendly tunes, you’re gonna have a bad time. But if you dig experimental music that pushes boundaries and keeps you guessing, this album’s worth checking out.
Final thought: Listening to Kurushimi feels like walking into a room where someone’s having an intense argument about philosophy…in three different languages…while playing instruments made out of scrap metal. Weird? Absolutely. Memorable? Hell yes.
