Like a lot of people, I got into OOIOO at the height of a Boredoms fixation, when eY3 & Co. started to slow down and my ravenous hunger for Boreproduct could not be satiated. By the time Feather Float was released in 2001, I'd had plenty of time to fully absorb Vision Creation Newsun and the word on the street was that drummer Yoshimi P-We's side project carried a torch that by then had a flame a mile high. That claim turned out to be false, but I still enjoyed the hell out of their oddball pop/rock, and I appreciated the moments when they occasionally assumed the krautrock-worshiping drive of the mothership.
Feather Float was OOIOO's second record, and they've had a Japan-only release in the interim. Now they return for their fourth album and Thrill Jockey debut. To this point, OOIOO has generally been a loud, energetic rock band with new wave leanings and an occasional fondness for tribal stomp, but on Kila Kila Kila, experimentation rules. Yoshimi is stretching here, trying her hand at extended forms, some new instrumental configurations, and compositions that depend heavily on repetition. Perhaps realizing that Boredoms may be no more, Yoshimi seems inclined to use their unique flavor of psychedelia for her own ends.
Kila Kila Kila is severely hampered by a painfully slow start. The first three songs, which total roughly 17 minutes, go nowhere. The title track starts the record off with a minute-and-a-half of organ noodling and chattering voices, and then "Ene Soda" is five minutes of wind chimes, a single limp power chord that appears periodically, and some half-hearted howling by Yoshimi. "Sizuku Ring Neng" is a little better, with a discordant guitar riff that finally awakens the drums about six minutes in, but then the final five minutes just sort of simmer without reaching a boil. These are the kind of moments the Boredoms use to tease the listener before a dramatic crescendo, but here they just stretch endlessly to the horizon, parallel lines that never combust.
Finally, with "On Mani" comes the first good song. With its twitchy guitar riff, trumpet and rollicking drums, it sounds like an epic, crazed rewrite of an old TV Western theme. That it eventually implodes into a quartet of strings working their instruments over with jagged sawtooth tones is even more inspired. Unfortunately, this plateau is not maintained, as Kila Kila Kila dips back into Dull Valley during "Northern Lights" and "Niko Niko Niko". Yoshimi has some interesting guitar work here, sometimes suggesting the noisy logic of the dueling lines that wind through Trout Mask Replica, but these tracks never catch fire.
The 15-minute closer "Anuenue Au" ends on an exceptionally high note, however, delivering the kind of deep, expansive psychedelia that her regular band perfected. A throbbing mess of strings, beatific harp runs and wordless chants, "Anuenue Au" is a grand spire leading heavenward. I want to follow Yoshimi into the clouds, but most of Kila Kila Kila is heavy in all the wrong ways and strangely earthbound. With any luck, this is a palate-cleansing transitional record.
