I’m Kayla, and I’ve got a soft spot for odd songs that still groove. Last week, I played Cibo Matto from breakfast to bedtime. I cooked with them. I worked with them. I even took the late bus with them in my ears. You know what? Their songs feel like a small movie in my kitchen.
If you want a blow-by-blow diary of the seven-day experiment, the full play-by-play lives in this extended recap.
They’re a Japanese duo from New York. Miho Hatori and Yuka Honda. Food puns, cool beats, and little twists. Sweet and strange at the same time. That’s their thing.
For a deeper dive into their kaleidoscopic catalog, swing by Yeah Basically Cibo Matto and see how fans break down every quirky groove.
And if their debut LP had you slicing veggies on beat, check out this kitchen-dance love letter to Viva La Woman!
Sugar Water — the slow melt
I put on Sugar Water while making toast. Low bass, soft voice, a loop that slides under your skin. The hook doesn’t push; it drifts. I like how the drums feel warm, almost sleepy.
The music video was done by Michel Gondry. It’s split-screen and kind of magic. Even without the video, the song folds in on itself. Perfect for quiet mornings when the sun is still shy.
Know Your Chicken — funky and goofy, and it works
I tried this one while walking through the grocery store. Big mistake. I laughed by the avocados. It’s cheeky and a bit punk, but still dancey. The chorus is silly, and I love that they don’t care. Sometimes you need nonsense with a tight groove. This is that.
Birthday Cake — chaos as a cleaning tool
When my sink got gross, I blasted Birthday Cake. It’s loud, fast, and a little rude. It turns grime into a game. I banged pots with the beat (sorry, neighbors). The switch from sweet voice to a wild shout feels like a sugar rush. Not every day. But on the right day? A jolt.
If you think that sounds dramatic, read how another listener let “Birthday Cake” take over their kitchen and brain—turns out I’m not alone.
Spoon and Moonchild — night tracks with city lights
On the bus, rain on the window, I played Spoon. The beat is steady, and the keys float like street glow. Then Moonchild. It’s softer, with a trip-hop sway. These two sit well with late texts and quiet plans. Stereotype A has that polish you can hear with good earbuds.
Sci-Fi Wasabi — pixel rap with a wink
This one clicks like a game console. Little beeps. Tight bars. It’s smart but not stiff. I wrote emails to it and felt faster, like I had tiny rockets in my shoes. “I’m Miho Hatori” lands like a calling card—clean, cool, quick.
Cibo Matto even surfaced on Buffy the Vampire Slayer back in ’97, turning The Bronze into a sushi-punk dance floor—learn more about that cameo—relive it through this first fan memory and a second goosebump-filled recap.
Artichoke and Beef Jerky — yes, the food thing is real
Cibo Matto loves food words, but the songs aren’t jokes. Artichoke has this snap and sway that made me chop onions on beat. Beef Jerky bumps like a small parade. I cooked noodles, the kitchen smelled like garlic, and the bass made the spoon drum the counter by itself. Well, almost.
Need a longer taste test of “Beef Jerky”? Spend a whole week with it through this obsessive listening log.
And if you’re the kind who chews on lyrics, there’s a line-by-line breakdown waiting right here.
Blue Train, Flowers, and the Hotel Valentine mood
From the later era, Blue Train and Flowers feel like ghosts in a hotel hallway. Not spooky, just hushed. The album Hotel Valentine leans into that vibe—echoes, soft edges, and a tiny chill. I made tea and let them hum in the background. It felt like a movie scene I wanted to stay in.
Quick picks by mood
- Morning calm: Sugar Water
- Big clean-up: Birthday Cake
- Grocery strut: Know Your Chicken
- Late bus: Spoon, Moonchild
- Focus work: Sci-Fi Wasabi
- Dinner prep: Artichoke, Beef Jerky (proof it’s a kitchen anthem lives in this quick read)
- Quiet, after dark: Blue Train, Flowers
What made me frown (a little)
- Some tracks feel thin, like a sketch more than a full meal.
- The random words can be cute, but sometimes I want a clearer story.
- A few sounds feel dated, like early laptop beats. I don’t mind, but you might.
- If you hate whimsy, you’ll tap out fast.
Sound nerd corner, but quick
The bass sits warm and low. Drums are dry and close, with little stereo tricks that pop left, then right. The samples feel handmade, like collage art. It reminds me of late ’90s New York—lofts, thrift coats, and that Gondry-style weird that still feels fresh.
For an even nerdier, day-by-day spin with their CD, skim through this warm-and-weird week-long diary.
Where these songs fit in my life
- Cooking eggs with Sugar Water softly looping.
- Power-sweeping to Birthday Cake while the cat judges me.
- Catching the Q train, hood up, Spoon in my ears.
- Grocery run swagger with Know Your Chicken (try not to grin; you’ll fail).
Speaking of lining up vibes—whether it’s curating a playlist or choosing somewhere new to meet people—niche spaces can make all the difference. An in-depth look at one such space lives in this Black Cupid review, where you’ll find straight-talk details on features, pricing, and success tips that help Black singles connect with someone who truly gets their rhythm.
And because every city has its own late-night map of off-beat hideaways, travelers curious about the massage-parlor landscape in Temple can tap into this Rubmaps Temple guide to see candid reviews, exact locations, and insider notes that take the guesswork out of finding a worthwhile spot.
Final take
Cibo Matto songs feel like art class and lunch break had a baby. They flip from sweet to sharp, from whisper to shout, and they don’t apologize. Not every track hits every day, but when it lands, it really lands.
If you like trip-hop, odd pop, or city beats with a wink, give these a spin. Start with Sugar Water, then jump to Know Your Chicken. Save Moonchild for night. And keep Birthday Cake for when you need a shove.
Honestly, I didn’t just listen—I lived with them for a week. And the week felt brighter, and a little weirder, in the best way.
If the idea of Miho and Yuka trading riffs with vampire slayers intrigues you, check out this crossover deep dive for one more slice of the weirdness.