Hunee releases his debut album “Hunch Music” this Spring. “Hunch Music” is the striking assembly of the artist’s versatile inspirations and productional talent. It is a rich musical journey that latches onto you and doesn’t let go easily.
Hun Choi, better known as Hunee, is a Korean Berliner who moved to Amsterdam over a year ago. In Berlin he used to work in a record store where he could extend his unquenchable enthusiasm for music. DJ and writer Finn Johannsen used to be one of Hun’s customers and they became friends. While listening to “Hunch Music” for the first time, Johannsen put Hunee’s music into words.
“When I met Hunee was many years ago, in a Berlin record store where he worked at that time. Of course. He noticed the Disco stuff I chose from the crates and soon we were talking. And also soon we were playing gigs together. I was actually looking back on many years of playing out then, and I was not that determined to keep on keeping on. But you cannot act reserved around Hunee, particularly as far as music is concerned.
Hunee’s enthusiasm for music is astounding. For every special record he learns about, he will find several other special records in return. It would be a waste of time for him to feed on the beauty of sounds and not share. And then Hunee the producer emerged, to add to all the other music around him. At first, his very own music showed the restlessness he so often displayed in everyday life, plus nocturnal endeavours. There were wonderful ideas, almost too many of them. It seemed that Hunee took in so much music that his own artistic persona had to fight its way out.
But it did. Yet after a few acclaimed releases, Hunee the producer disappeared again. I do not know why exactly, he never told me, and I never really asked. Apparently a debut album was ready to go, but it never saw the light. I felt that was quite a respectable and brave move, and I was very confident that he would not give up so easily. He never does.
But for an avid vinyl collector like himself, it is quite difficult to achieve that all the inspirations do not divert from your own signature, yet still shine through, and the album is still a format much superior to others. And so while he continued to drop platters that matter week in way out, he went supposedly Kubrick on his own. I am most probably not exaggerating. Why? Because I’m listening to this album while I am writing these lines.
And this album is rather special. Even the opening title is special. It does not show off some unjustified pretension, it sets a perfect mood, a misty Eastern mood, full of drips, whirls and sweet ambience. Ending in one of the catchiest melodies I heard since I first fell in love with Japanese Synth pop. Not the easiest task to transcend this blissful mystery to something you can dance to, but Crossroads does exactly that, adding a cinematic aura that feels like elements unknown are tearing the roof off the to display a panoramic view of something you have never seen before.
Silent Sensations, let me touch it. It feels acidic, and it has the glory. You will consider devouring it. Rare Happiness takes up the trip, and throws it around. A mean little groover, if I may say so. Burning Flower in all its fury may be Fitzcarraldo’s ship sliding all the way back down, with the fat lady still singing.
And if they pull that ship back up, this track will send it down again, instantly. Error Of The Average follows suit adequately, like a SciFi orchestra whipping a round dance of lost souls into oblivion, all swirling drama and voodoo frenzy. I’m still trying to unlock myself from it. Failed Movement takes its time, with string melancholia unfolding into a precious downbeat stroll. Bruises is just baffling.
Do not even try to tell me you have ever heard one of the most famous vocal samples of the Paradise Garage legacy accompanied by a heart wrenching string quartet. No, you did not. And you will probably not hear anything like this again. And is the exotic setting in Hiding The Moon really crashing into that several minute psychedelia breakdown that then finally explodes into those revolving bass lines and HEAVY beats? They may plant flowers and gardens through the deep and chaotic furrows this has left behind, but the idyll will never be the same again.
And it keeps going more places. The jazzfuelled interlude that is Amo (Admiration) reprises the Eastern atmosphere from earlier on, but in a puzzling way. We are talking suspense. And then… the End of The World, which I indeed did not know yet. If this is the afterworld, I am not afraid. It feels a bit feverish to me, even a bit uncertain. But I can hear a light at the end of the tunnel. Exaggerating? Me? No. I was just listening to this album while I was writing these lines.”
Words by Finn Johannsen.
Johannsen is a DJ and writer. He also co-runs the label Macro Recordings and works at Hard Wax, Berlin.