ACO - Irony Review

PRICKED BY THORNS, A WOUNDED FAIRY EMERGES

ACO's gentle Irony has one fascinating wrinkle; Microsound. You'd expect Glitch Pop to be laden with such delicate tickling, yet the two genres have never truly intermingled. Likely due to the former's inaccessibility and the latter's Pop-centric prospects. Here, it nestles in the crevices, pulsating like shivering pixels ('Lang,' 'Machi'), predating the genre's most notorious album by two years; Dataplex. Ryoji Ikeda's noted characteristics can be heard shifting excitedly on Irony, lending a unique blend to the album's minimalistic refrains. Exacerbated by ACO's withering falsetto - donning her Björk of the East - tracks like 'Hans' and 'Kuuhaku No Tane' teeter on frail foundations, clattering with instability that's at times playful, but largely pensive. On personal favorite 'Hans,' one can even hear early 2000's Glitch, as acts like múm and Sora prance about childish flightiness, though ACO's calm demeanor remains rather one-note throughout.

Speaking of which, I'd argue to say ACO's vocal presence is the weakest aspect of Irony. By no stretch are they bad - coming across as a pubescent Ichiko Aoba - but fitting the mold of eccentricity doesn't seem like her strong suit. Mood, tempo, and gravity shift excitably behind her, caressing sharp corners with muted pluck, yet her tone never wavers, crescendoing in places both apt and unfitting. This likely has a great deal to do with the language barrier, I'm sure. But the necessary structuring for Pop feels neglected and arbitrary here, as Irony feels more at home drifting without a means to an end.