Ziúr - Blur

  • On her latest EP, Ziúr continues to chart exciting new worlds.
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  • In the last four years, Ziúr has released three full-lengths and four EPs. She might make music quickly, but each new track feels like its own microscopic universe, populated with fine-tuned sounds and teeming with life. Just over three months ago, she released Antifate, a densely layered album of emotive sound design driven by visions of a fantastical utopia. Just when we've barely wrapped our heads around that one, she drops a new record. And what better way to follow up a heady concept album than a return to the dark, experimental corners of the club? Where Antifate's wide-eyed electroacoustic explorations felt like gazing at alien landscapes, Blur's alternately plodding and skittering rhythms are direct and confrontational, built for rumbling concrete walls and contorting the limbs of adventurous ravers. The title track is a gut punch of anxious synths and twisting acoustic percussion—think Nyege Nyege Tapes or Hakuna Kulala, but set to the endless moonlight of Berlin's winter months. Midway through the EP, Ziúr takes things into more abstract territory. "Moonshine" sounds like chopped-and-screwed IDM built on samples from construction sites, while "I Accept" shows Ziúr flexing her complex sound design, mutating bells and chimes into cold, almost animalistic screeches. On closer "New Term," the project's loosely connected chaos finally collapses: heavily swung beats alternate between falling apart and pulling themselves back together, anchored by pounding 808s and rhythmic sputters. While listening to Blur, the term "braindance" kept coming to mind. But, like most of Ziúr's work, Blur is as much physical as it is cerebral. You want to hear it on a soundsystem. It's complex dance music, inviting a kind of stomping, twisting, full-body-exorcism.
  • Tracklist
      01. Blur 02. Moonshine 03. Fly Like A Moth 04. I Accept 05. New Term
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