LOS ANGELES, CA- I’m trying to think, I must’ve met Kimi Recor, I don’t know. Some years ago. Didn’t know much about her other than she was cool as fuck: Tall. Friendly. Super stylish. But chill. And kinda goofy. A replicant and a vampire, she often looks like she just finished beating the snot out of a Bladerunner but the reality is that she’s more inclined to kill you with kindness than a fist. It’s an odd yet oddly comforting and otherworldly presence she has. It leaves you feeling thankful that she’s been kind enough to take a sabbatical here on planet earth before hopping back through the interdimensional portal that brought her here. Which, at some point, she’ll have to do insofar as generosity compels her to bring the sounds of tropical goth to the creatures of solar systems near and far. But for now, her presence here on earth is a most fortunate phenomenon because Kimi cares deeply about the things in this world that truly matter and gives very few fucks about the things that don’t. Isn’t that refreshing?
So, quick disclaimer. I don’t know exactly what “tropical goth” is. I know that’s how Kimi refers to the sounds of her other project, Black Flamingo. Is Draemings trop goth too? I dunno. After the set at Bardot, I’m still not sure. But whatever Draemings is, I know it’s super fucking rad. Little bit of Cranberries, little Patti Smith. Whole lot of awesome. Intense. Heavy. But not heavy like an anchor pulling you down. Heavy like the weight of an impulse from deep within your bowels. An urge, a question, a craving that pushes you forward. Tells you to dig deeper into the cave of your own self. Find the beat and plug it into your butthole. Then watch yourself move. That’s the feeling of the sound that I will embrace as “trop goth” …whether it is or isn’t.
One of the things I loved most about the set at Bardot is that between songs Kimi is irretrievably Kimi. The depth and intensity don’t fade, they just slide over to make room for her to giggle and collapse into her own natural charm. Then it’s back to work. Quite animalistic the way she stalks the stage. I think she has cats, so I’ll call it a feline ferocity. A cross between young Shelley Duvall and David Bowie circa Ziggy Stardust. Think Shelley in the Shining. But not a victim. Kimi would be more like Shelley’s kickass older sister. Wouldn’t have flinched when Jack came at her with the axe. Would’ve grabbed the blade out of dude’s hand, wagged a long finger at him, smiled, and prob said something like “silly boys shouldn’t play with sharp toys” then blasted him flat in the face with a wall of sound that melted the snow and brought Scatman Crothers back to life.
I don’t know. The School Nights showcase at Bardot has its own magic. A Monday night listening party that catches lightning in a beer bottle. But lightning has to flash for anyone to catch it. And Draemings is fucking dope. Cracking bolts across the room and into your earhole.
I’ll wrap with this final thought: I saw Florence and the Machine at Walt Disney Concert Hall a couple months ago and it was one of the best shows I’ve seen in years. I left Bardot this Monday night with Draemings feeling just as moved, just as inspired, and perhaps more hopeful
