Kero Kero Bonito

Kero Kero Bonito

Biography

**Kero Kero Bonito**

In an era where musical boundaries have become increasingly porous, few acts have navigated the liminal spaces between genres with quite the same audacious charm as Kero Kero Bonito. This London-based trio emerged from the digital underground in 2011 like some fever dream of kawaii culture colliding with experimental pop sensibilities, creating a sound that was simultaneously nostalgic and futuristic, saccharine and subversive.

The band's genesis reads like a modern fairy tale of internet-age serendipity. Producers Gus Lobban and Jamie Bulled, operating under the moniker of Kero Kero Bonito, were initially a purely instrumental electronic duo until they discovered Sarah Midori Perry through her YouTube covers. Perry, a half-Japanese, half-English vocalist with an ethereal voice and bilingual delivery, proved to be the missing piece in their sonic puzzle. Her ability to seamlessly weave between English and Japanese lyrics would become one of the band's most distinctive calling cards.

Taking their name from the onomatopoeia for a frog's croak and the Japanese word for bonito fish, Kero Kero Bonito immediately signaled their intent to occupy a space that was playfully absurd yet meticulously crafted. Their early releases were exercises in maximalist minimalism – deceptively simple pop songs built on video game bleeps, toy piano melodies, and Perry's crystalline vocals that could make even the most mundane observations sound profound.

The 2013 mixtape "Intro Bonito" served as their calling card to the world, featuring tracks like "Sick Beat" and "Picture This" that would become cult classics among the terminally online. These songs possessed an almost childlike wonder, celebrating everything from flamingos to graduation ceremonies with equal enthusiasm. Yet beneath the surface sweetness lay a sophisticated understanding of pop mechanics and an almost anthropological fascination with youth culture.

Their 2016 debut album "Bonito Generation" represented a quantum leap in ambition and execution. The record was a love letter to the digital native generation, touching on themes of social media, globalization, and the peculiar loneliness of hyperconnectivity. Songs like "Flamingo" and "Trampoline" became viral sensations, their infectious hooks and accompanying DIY music videos perfectly capturing the zeitgeist of mid-2010s internet culture. The album's success wasn't just measured in streams but in its cultural penetration – suddenly, everyone from bedroom producers to major label A&Rs were trying to decode the KKB formula.

But just as the music industry began to pigeonhole them as purveyors of "kawaii future bass," Kero Kero Bonito executed a dramatic artistic pivot. Their 2018 album "Time 'n' Place" saw them trading their digital maximalism for a more organic, indie rock-influenced sound. The shift was jarring for some fans but revelatory for others, proving that beneath the bubblegum exterior lay serious musical chops and an unwillingness to be confined by expectations.

This evolution continued with 2019's "Civilisation I" EP, which found them exploring even more experimental territories. The release tackled weighty themes of environmental collapse and social decay while maintaining their signature melodic sensibilities. It was a bold statement from a band that could have easily continued mining their early formula for diminishing returns.

Throughout their career, Kero Kero Bonito has maintained an almost academic approach to pop music, treating each release as an opportunity to explore different facets of contemporary culture. Their influence can be heard in countless bedroom pop and hyperpop acts, from Clairo to 100 gecs, who have borrowed elements of their aesthetic without fully capturing their unique alchemy.

The band's visual identity, largely crafted by Perry herself, has been equally influential. Their music videos and artwork have helped define the aesthetic of "post-internet" art, blending Japanese pop culture references with Western indie sensibilities in ways that feel both authentic and appropriative-free.

As they continue to evolve, Kero Kero Bonito remains one of the most fascinating case studies in how artists can maintain creative integrity while navigating the attention economy of modern music. They've proven that genuine weirdness, when executed with enough skill and sincerity, can find its audience in even the most oversaturated musical landscape. In a world of algorithmic playlists and focus-grouped pop, they remain delightfully, defiantly themselves.