Since their formation as a duo in 2002, the two sisters of Osaka's Afrirampo have enjoyed something of a meteoric rise through the avant-rock underground, recording with Acid Mothers Temple and touring with Lightning Bolt and Sonic Youth. On Kore Ga Mayaku Da-- their first U.S. release following a handful of self-released recordings in Japan-- it isn't difficult to hear why their ascent has been so rapid. Though their national origin will surely prompt impulsive comparisons to Melt Banana or early Boredoms, there's something entirely unique going on within Afrirampo's free-form, primal garage-stomps. And on this album they join such acts as Magik Markers or Angelblood out beyond the farthest streetlight of rock's untamed outskirts, where one wrong turn can plunk you directly into the foreboding, impassable wilderness.
Afrirampo (the name translates loosely yet accurately to "naked rock") is comprised of guitarist Oni and drummer Pikachu, both of whom add wild, lustful vocals that occasionally reach pitches of near-cartoonish intensity. With this denuded instrumental attack the duo recasts the trashy, minimalist garage-rock of groups like the Oblivians or Cheater Slicks into decidedly more personalized abstract forms, using open-ended song structures and free-spirited improvisation to create a mercurial strain of fuzzed-out thunder.
While the duo's spare approach necessarily amplifies the relative weight of each individual element of their music, on Kore Ga Mayaku Da it is Oni's guitar that proves to be the group's most indispensable weapon. At a time when noteworthy rock guitarists seem to be in uncommonly short supply, Oni's work here consistently astonishes without being overtly flashy. One minute she sounds to be channeling Johnny Thunders, the next it's a leopard skin-clad Derek Bailey, as throughout the album she bursts enthusiastically from episode-to-episode with a slippery, off-the-cuff grace that suggests that she's not always wholly aware of what her fingers are planning to do next. Behind the drumkit, Pikachu acquits herself as well, keeping pace with-- if not actually anticipating-- Oni's every frantic lane change.
The duo certainly waste no time getting down to the nitty-gritty on their ecstatic 13-minute opening gush "I Did Are," a surprisingly metallic, free-flowing epic that changes course roughly every 45 seconds, including an extended mid-song breakdown of dizzy vocalizing and guitar-string chicken clucks. Things get slightly less complicated on blistering tracks like the onomatopoetic "O" or the crazed-scales of "Kairaku Do Re Mi", while on quieter numbers like "On Ska to Paar Ya" or the erotically-charged plea "Want You", the duo reveal an unsuspected Jamaican influence, inflecting these songs with languid, echo-heavy dub effects and erstwhile island rhythms. It's never long, however, before Afrirampo are again off and running, joyfully veering to the cusp of feral, white-hot noise, as they drag their songs kicking and screaming towards distant untold possibilities.
