iji

iji sounds like the sonic equivalent of a Polaroid photo developing in real time. It is music that feels lived-in and comfortable, characterized by warbly synthesizers, clean but slightly detuned electric guitars, and a rhythm section that shuffles with a relaxed, almost accidental groove. There is a distinct sense of space and air in the recordings, as if you can hear the room where the instruments were played.

What makes Zach Burba's project truly distinctive is the marriage of sophisticated, jazz-adjacent harmonic structures with a resolutely lo-fi, DIY aesthetic. The vocals are delivered with a conversational, deadpan charm that avoids melodrama, instead focusing on the small, surreal details of daily life. It is experimental not in its aggression, but in its willingness to let a song drift into a strange synth melody or an unexpected saxophone flourish.

Start with the album Bubble. It perfectly captures the band's transition into a more polished but still wonderfully wonky sound. It is the ideal entry point for anyone who appreciates the intersection of classic pop songwriting and the adventurous spirit of the American underground cassette scene.