contact booking : Judaah

Paris, 1998: France stood proud and puffed out its chest as French touch had become a hashtag ahead of its time. The rave scene turned more radical while the club scene morphed, like Krikor who released his first 12” that very year. Rejecting smug ready-made formulas, in no time his spirit became free and defied all rules. Always on the lookout for sound mishaps, the first releases of the producer hovered between sound and order. The survivors from that era are few and far between: when most DJs had vanished into thin air with the cash, having raided all popular radio stations, Krikor Kouchian was recording, working with other outsiders of his kind. Krikor works obsessively at extracting the very substance of machines. The composer, sharp and rough, developed a one-of-a-kind sound identity under a string of aliases, an insane mess in which dub, Chicago house and the dirtiest of rocks frantically mate. Refusing to choose between Errorsmith and Lee Perry, Krikor Kouchian constructs, makes mistakes, unravels. With the gusto of an inquisitive child who would rather dismantle his toys than read music, he creates sounds. An empirical, experimental yet accessible approach that lays the groundwork of all his projects.

Twenty years spent in recording studios with a flurry of influences to show for it, which would become the material for a new LP released on the New York label L.I.E.S. This amateur of US culture has come full circle. The new album, entitled Pacific Alley, conjures up every sound that has left an impression on him: Prince’s funk, early hip-hop, video-club culture and flamboyant B movies. Designed like a short sound feature, this LP could move thugs to tears and has already found its way to the stereos of convertibles the world over. Before more LPs in its wake, Krikor’s 360° imagination will make a lot of noise.