KMRU: Natur (digital, Touch, July 2024)

I am happy to admit that my feelings about this kind of music are highly subjective. After all, this album consists largely of various rather quiet buzzing type noises, synth “melodies” that often consist of two very long notes (or occasionally even just one: you may think that this is not possible, but I suggest that this record proves that it is), and some mostly pretty subtle field recordings. Of course my reaction is going to be influenced by where I am and how I’m feeling when I listen to it. If I wanted to get pretentious then I might argue that the appeal of meditative works like this is as much about what it draws out of the listener as about what the artist puts into it.

All of which means that the fact that I love this doesn’t mean that you, hypothetical reader, will, even if you have great taste in music like I do… but I don’t think it means that my fondness for it is any less valid.

So here’s the thing. I first came across the Kenyan sound artist KMRU a couple of years ago, in his rather intensely noisy collaboration with Aho Ssan. He’s been busy since then, notably working with Kevin Richard Martin aka The Bug, but nothing quite grabbed be right at the right moment. Still, I figured I’d give this new release on Touch a go.

Now, as it happens, I was dealing with some very sad news at the time. For the first half of the record my mind was half elsewhere, wandering the lonely paths of memory and grief and a host of those complicated thoughts that spring up around all that. I wasn’t consciously paying attention to the music in my headphones.

And then, somewhere near the start of the fourth of the five tracks here, something happened. I can’t put my finger on what it was, but I think there’s a very subtle notching up of the intensity there that just pinged something in my brain. Now, I was listening intently. And the effect on me was subtle but powerful. It didn’t make the sad feels go away, of course, but it somehow centred me and allowed me to sit more comfortably with them, rather than stewing in them. (And, yes, the language of mindfulness feels quite appropriate here.) By the time the nineteen-minute closing track was done, I felt like important processing had been done.

Inevitably, a first impression like that colours all your subsequent listenings. I continue to find it pleasingly centering. If my thoughts have drifted, that moment near the start of track four still seems to bring me back. I have no way of knowing whether I’d love this album as much as I do had things happened differently — but love it I do, and I am grateful for the experience.

I bought this from Boomkat. They call it Modern Classical / Ambient.