Phoebé Guillemot’s parallel autonomous sci-fi RAMZI world is at once utopian and dystopian in the most wondrous, wide and red-eyed way, and these digital vine cutting expeditions span a vast and varied section of her own CGI’ed imaginary world of disorientating, bouncy hybrid genre experiments, heavily filtered samples, inverted dancehall rhythms, shredded jungle, distroid-vibed atmospheres and super weird, melodic repetitions.
Guillemot’s voyages have always been deeply rhythmic but the heavy psilocybic zones on “Houti Kush” step through from the frenetic/maximalist potencies of her previous “BÉBiTES” release into restrained but equally imagistic investigations into warm but unknown atmospheres, always humid and wavy with delirium. Even the actual field recordings of frogs at night on planet earth sound like the furthest out, web-footed cosmic creatures from her Houti realm.
Locking into very listenable but extremely twisted grooves and sort of magical-realist tones while retaining her specifically crazed, cluttered vibe throughout, Guillemot locates herself as the “Houti princess” of an album that actively seeks a new voice and distinct type of beauty. There’s a constant feeling that the dualities in her tracks could push them too far into the ever-present canopy of polyrhythms, but RAMZI somehow restrains it just at just the right level of their mutations.
Supported by the Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec