Oisima's new album Nicaragua Nights is a musical feat if i ever heard one. The raw quality of his mixing and melting instrumentals, speak a thousand unsung words about this Adelaide producer's magnanimous talent. The lack of vocals are extraneous. His intriguing combinations of ethereal soothing soundscapes that glide over deep, gut wrenching bass whilst a plethora of intriguing sounds pulled from a dizzying array of genres buzz and creep and crash and tantalise. Each song oozes perfectly into the next as if you are floating along next to Anth Wendt in a bittersweet haunting dream.
Long after the strike of midnight the audience at GoodGod had been lulled into a trance-like haze by the soothing vocals of support Mei Saraswati. The room was plunged into darkness and then a pulsing, dim blue strobe illuminated the bearded figure of Oisima looming in a smog of dry ice. He started the set with a slightly disappointing introduction of abstract echoing vocals, drawing the crowd into a temporary meditative state: silent and hesitant.
And then the night, or should I say early morning, really began. Deep bass erupted as a throbbing red light danced upon Oisima's animated figure to the rhythm of a shuffling, clicking beat. This was more than his album. This was something entirely different. Like a wild beast had stalked on stage to the awe and delighted terror of the crowd. Horns and trumpets soared rather than softly stepping around the beat in Grover’s Lament. The sound had soul and a crunchy crisp beat for a backbone.
Even his softer, mellow songs were gritty and almost discordant, filled with gruff abstract sounds. Like his album, the set had a definite sensual tone. The vocal samples, and live guest performances from Mei and Annabel Weston for Sun of Truth and Everything About Her were syrupy and the baselines were often slow and lounging.
The set flowed through so many different genres it was hard to keep up: garage, hip hop beats one minute straight into sultry house and then back to the tripping beat of a grime track. The Miles Davis funk of horns and the Grimes style abstract bouncing chords and even a touch of Animal Collective-esque orchestrated chaos of clashing noise and cluttered sounds.
As the night progressed the beats got dirtier, the crowd got livelier. Oisima was swaying and bending engrossed in the beat. Dubstep baselines morphed into upbeat jungle. The sound became crunchier and electronic, almost Aphex Twin but with the melody of a Daft Punk/ Pharcyde cocktail.
Interludes of rapping and soulful vocal clips swam amongst great caustic beats and even the samples of Rihanna remixed into his Take Your Time became unimportant in the great wave of crashing instrumentals.
At times the set was discombobulated and slightly messy, with jarring samples not quite flowing into the next segments. But this was all part of the fascinating quality of Oisima's signature sound. It’s his modernistic approach to producing that sets him apart. The entire set was like the wild, evil twin brother to the serene, sensual soundscape of his album. In the gloomy basement of Goodgod Oisima’s set exploded into the dusky air, dark and writhing like the crescendo of an electric storm shattering the night sky.
Written by Cozzie Wood
OISIMA | GOODGOD SMALL CLUB (SYD) | 26.6.15
Photographer: Teresa Pham