KEIICHIRO SHIBUYA - Atak000

Mark this record down. It's a masterpiece that leaves its mark.

It redefines the way the midi sequencer is used, the very concept of processing a pattern through a computer.

Within the catalogue of Japan's Atak label, we find highly innovative works in which the spirit of experimentation overrides any kind of standardization.

Records like the self-titled "Slipped Disk" (in which Shibuya collaborates with Dj/Model Maria) and the artistic union between Keiichiro himself and Yuji Takahashi are examples of an overflowing creative vein. One after another, the tracks leave you open-mouthed. A wall of continuous static noise, with no pause of silence. The rhythm falls apart with no apparent logic. Minimal beats hint at techno, but not even a trace of it is really there. The deteriorating crackle of a machine left to fend for itself. Sounds collide, absorb each other, explode and then reunite.

Volcanic eruptions made of 0s and 1s, lava flows built from chips and circuits, sulphurous programmatic and programmed mists, digital wind, robotic snow. "Shibuya Tango" is the soundtrack for an automaton programmed for total destruction, "Calling For Your Juicy" is the haunting sway of a boat caught in a tidal wave of electrical discharges, "Dottor Police In Hiroshima" is a series of digital pralines fired from a rifle loaded with stardust, "I Do It To My Self" is a swarm of tiny three-dimensional insects darting everywhere, infested by a disease that makes them schizophrenic and senseless.

"Godzilla Blues" is a metallic, ferrous sloshing, like an iron factory in ruins, on the verge of collapse; "Pop Music Records" is glitch as conceptual art; "Nagasaki Nightmare" is dark and terrifying. Spectres disfigured by electrostatic lightning slash and stab. They tear apart and stitch back together with meticulous precision.

"Sorry My Bad English" spins and blends. It mixes and grinds. A stream of sound shifts from the left channel to the right, and our neurons simply can't keep up with the path these sounds take. All we can do is stand still like statues.

It slams and comes back. It bursts and falls apart. It runs and slips away. I'm talking about a melody that seems to be there, but is hidden and whipped raw. Finding it within the cracks of these sounds is a monumental undertaking.

There's no real definition to be applied to this music. Minimal techno? Glitch? Noise? Improv-inflected electronica? We simply can't manage it. A landmark record. Full stop.

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30/04/2026