Record Review: Hiroma Keo - The Ordeal Cycle
Hiroma Keo - The Ordeal Cycle [Vilamar, 2021]
Amaury Hocquet aka Hiroma Keo supplies Lisbon collective Vilamar’s second release with The Ordeal Cycle, taking the restrained yet heavy bass pressure of the label’s anonymous first EP and expanding on it considerably. Indeed, if we assume that Hocquet had an active hand in those four earlier tracks, what we have here is the sound of him spreading his wings in terms of ideas and moods and finding a new home even further beyond the dancefloor. The emphasis on a dense lower end is still present and correct, but the inclusion of beatless tracks and (melo)dramatic melodies - as well as the longer runtime - introduces a new and compelling element of pathos into the equation.
The LP kicks off with the distorted ostinato and ominous narration of ‘Unstructured Confessions’, a potent mood-setter in the style of ‘The Dead Flag Blues’ by Godspeed You! Black Emperor - though here of course the voice, piano, strings, percussion and electronic flourishes are all performed by Hocquet himself. The end-times feeling conjured by this opener is transmuted into something altogether more serene with the arrival of ‘Cycles Innit?’, whose cascading chimes pan back and forth to create the titular effect. The contrast with the powerful low end heightens the celestial vibe - this is music that’s both calm and cosmic all at the same time.
The next track, ‘Chocolate’, is the first peak moment of the LP. This is largely due to its positioning: the harmonies of the preceding track act as a warm up for the upwardly spiralling synths on this one, while its 4/4 kick gives it an energy that propels it in front of the more ambient or broken material either side. Even more invigorating is the harshly filtered and arpeggiated lead and bassline that hits you right from the start, a wake-up moment that Hocquet prolongs with each new element added into the mix. To me it’s pure early 90s ambient techno experimentalism - there are shades of Spacetime Continuum’s ‘Transmitter’ but with an added krautrocky pulse to drive it forwards.
Kicking off the B side are the wandering keys and delicate strings of ‘Unfulfilled’, which act as a moment of respite after the intense voyage of side A. Hocquet plays at the interface between organic and electronic sounds, the almost jazzy cymbals melting into sheets of distortion and back again.
The B side then reaches its own dramatic peak with ‘Rise Up You Piece Of Shit’, which marries the throbbing bass familiar from Vilamar 01 with what I can only describe as a Eurythmics-esque synth hook. It’s an audacious pop flourish that succeeds for its unexpectedness, although I suspect it may be too much for some listeners (that is, for the kind of listener who thinks there’s such a thing as ‘too much’). Closer ‘Chaos Is’ ups the tempo but chills the mood, its skitters and flutters putting me in mind of the slowly waning state of acceleration towards the end of an afterparty. The arrangement is alive with activity yet the mood is languid, pointing to the closure of the LPs narrative arc and quite probably the end of the night/morning.
Having seen him perform tracks from this LP among others in his livesets in Lisbon, I can say that The Ordeal Cycle is a concise yet representative statement of Hiroma Keo’s musical world and outlook. This is distinctive, patient and emotional music that will provide a refuge as much as it will moments of pure catharsis.
If you’re in Lisbon, don’t miss Amaury’s upcoming performance at Cosmos in Campolide on 29 October.
Note: I know this producer personally and included one of the tracks from this LP in the soundtrack I curated for the contemporary dance performance Dança Sem Vergonha by David Marques.