Susumu Yokota
Sakura
[Leaf]
Rating: 8.4
"Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?" has been a huge hit in more than thirty
countries, but it failed miserably in Japan. Apparently, the Japanese consider
public displays of wealth embarrassing, so the money-grubbing show never had
a chance. Failed culture translation can work both ways, of course. Here in
America, it's generally considered embarrassing for grown adults to read
comics whose heroines are scantily clad prepubescent girls with stripper-sized
tits. At least we all agree on Cheap Trick and the Beastie Boys.
I'm thinking about these kinds of differences right now because I'm trying to
get to the root of my fascination with the gentle electronic music coming out
of Japan. Though they're working in dramatically different styles, I think it's
safe to say that artists like Nobukazu Takemura, Aki Tsuyuko, Neina and Susumu
Yokota share a sensibility. Each is capable of crafting subtle music that's
not afraid to be warm and pretty, but they shade the tender melodies and
childlike naiveté with hints of violence and loss. With now-familiar
techniques like malfunctioning technology (Neina's Oval-style glitch is the
sound of the digital world colliding with nature) and clipped vocal fragments
(Takemura's "Kepler" traps Tsuyuko's innocent voice inside a machine), the
pretty music becomes something more balanced and complex.
Susumu Yokota made his name in Japan as a House DJ and producer, and this
functional background could explain why his ambient music is the most
outwardly "pleasant" of the artists mentioned above. Sakura is his
latest home-listening entry, a placid display of slow, careful movement with
a few unexpected twists.
Much of this album features Yokota's dreamy, processed guitar as a
distinctive sound tool. On the lush, cascading "Saku" and "Tobiume" he drowns
the electric strings in reverb, and the plucked melodies are hard to trace to
their source. The faint guitar melodies work well against the synthetic drones,
offering a subtly percussive counterpoint to the electronic tapestry. On
"Genshi," Yokota pulls out his this-old-House tools, wielding a gentle, steady
kickdrum and shimmering high-hat to push along a gurgling guitar pattern
reminiscent of Manual Göttsching. Adding further variation to the six-string
texture, "Hagoromo" loops an acoustic guitar pattern to hypnotic effect.
Despite its use in the above tracks, this is by no means a "guitar album," not
even in the Fripp & Eno sense of the word. Each of the elements, the guitars,
the occasional beats, the vocal samples (heartbreaking on "Azukiio No Kaori,"
which reminds me of Nobukazu Takemura's amazing remix of "Proverb" on Reich
Remixed) and the flowing synthesizers, are used to further the dreamy,
contemplative mood. There are a few missteps, most notable the oddly jazzy
"Naminote," which seems to strive for Amon Tobin territory but mucks up the
flow of the album considerably. Still, this is a worthy artifact from what
seems to be an incredibly fertile scene.
-Mark Richard-San