Incredibly for an artist as busily eclectic as Asano, Galaxies marks the return of a CD release of his since 2006, year of the excellent Oboe Trio No.1-No.3. This shows how time indeed flies remorselessly. To perplex even further, the man is back with nothing less than a full hour of sheer field recordings; a choice that – before listening – appears quite odd, a unique loner deciding to enter a swarming area where recognized professionals risk to be mingled with dozens of “I-look-so-cool-with-this-binaural-headset” amateurs in the minds of audiences lacking an expert guide, namely yours truly (just kidding, folks). Fear not, though, as the record is superb – among the genre’s finest in the recent period.
The general background would seem to be a country zone, perhaps in the summer. Accordingly, an overwhelmingly prevailing factor is the massive chanting of crickets and cicadas, which prompted us to think that the sessions mostly occurred immediately prior to sundown; a theory reinforced by the rarity of engines, always heard at safe distance. Sporadically, the weather was not good-humored, rain falling profusely in various stretches. A mosaic of different segments was probably realized in the studio after the bulk of environmental materials was gathered. Therefore, what distinguishes this from hundreds of comparable releases? First of all, the proximity of the sources, especially birds and insects, from which one really seems to be encircled. A splendid sensation. Second and most important, the unassuming depth of the composer’s gesture: there’s no underlying pretension to be exposed, no implication of cosmic blessedness or other kinds of pathetic “lesson”. It’s you and the rural atmosphere, bar none. In complete absence of extraneous disturbances, it works wonders.
Given that Solstice’s entire catalogue is freely downloadable, no reason exists for missing this chapter and, in the meantime, (re)discovering desolate masterpieces such as The Last Shade Of Evening Falls. Once appropriately hyped by fashionable periodicals during Asano’s London phase, now they only lie in the memory of those who were willing to understand them beyond the veneer of a positive review.
