If you were around for the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic-era digicore wave, you might recall the sheer amount of music that was being pumped out at that time. Thanks to the ease of uploading on SoundCloud, a blossoming internet scene began highlighting discographies that were littered with singles that barely hit the two-minute mark — let alone a full album. As the years have passed, a handful of the major players who established digicore have sharpened their output to shape the genre. Standing out amid this change is kuru’s sophomore album, Backstage hologram.
Kuru’s latest album follows their prior releases with deadAir in what seems to be a concentrated effort to push past the initial digicore or hyperpop image they initially produced. They have done so along label mates Lucy Bedroque and Jane Remover, peers who have gone through monumental efforts to similarly fine-tune their output. While all three artists and their respective albums maintain a similar origin in digicore, each release is made unique by a touch of the respective artist’s flair. In kuru’s case, it’s more stripped back than the maximalist rage heard on Unmusique or Revengeseekerz, instead with roots in trap and cloud rap.
Backstage hologram takes the best pieces of kuru’s prior releases — re:wired and Stay true forever — and combines them into one sound. Lead single “FW19” is the perfect example, as it carries the distorted and digitized sounds from re:wired, while the beat itself is akin to one of the plugg-trap cuts off of Stay true forever. It’s like the rap beat version of old Pokémon fusion websites.
The album’s production is uniquely digitized by way of taking traditional trap elements and transforming them into something mechanical, leaving beats with an icy gloss that isn’t typical in the digicore genre. Tracks like “Let the keys cry” and outro “Three worlds apart” create depth in their production due to this meld. The former starts ambient-like and eventually warps to stagger around kuru’s vocals, with stuttering drums that drown out tranquil piano chords. The latter is an ethereal chillwave track with what sounds like a hazy George Clanton-esque beat, as it slowly envelops the listener beside kuru in its dreamy atmosphere. “Pray for…” is one of the most compelling pieces of the puzzle thanks to its unusual production — piano notes punch the beat, creating discord with kuru’s vocals. Their voice flows over notes and finds pockets in the asymmetry, ultimately allowing dissonance to work in harmony.
Even the featuring artists incorporate their own sound in the world of Backstage hologram, such as “Glass” with xaviersobased sounding like a kuru-ified version of a track off of Xavier. “Like glue” with katmoji is a fun break amid the album’s rap focus for a hyperpop dance track, as katmoji takes up chorus duty alongside a kuru verse that is baked under layers of production. Aforementioned label mate Bedroque’s feature on “End of spring” is a rage cut akin to Bedroque’s Unmusique, yet it remains similar to the album’s other rage songs like “Noir kei.”
The visual world of Backstage hologram is reminiscent of Frutiger Aero graphics, with a blend of video game design seen on the album artwork, along with its collection of stunning visualizers. It draws from the stylized user interface of Persona 3 Reload and the PSP version of Hatsune Miku: Project Diva — the character on the album’s cover even bears a striking resemblance to the protagonist of Persona 3 Reload. It allows the listener to step into the world of Backstage hologram alongside kuru. While they’ve never been a stranger to such striking design language, it’s employed masterfully across the album’s world.
Backstage hologram is undoubtedly kuru’s most realized effort yet, and it is a welcome expansion from the digicore sphere they’ve been a key part of curating for many years. It’s a rare project within the genre that manages to escape the grasp of negativity behind the label “internet music” — but it probably wouldn’t have hurt to cut that tung tung tung sahur bar.
Daily Arts Writer Mae Savage can be reached at dmsavage@umich.edu.
