Yuki Aida, Tomotsugu Nakamura: all sounds except field recordings by Haruo Okada
Working with Max/MSP-generated sonorities while adding floaty swathes of field recordings, Aida and Nakamura managed to bring forth a type of honest electronica that, though deprived of any genuinely innovational prospect, is nonetheless positively greeted by these ears in virtue of its graceful acoustic posture. Snippets of phrases get embroiled, crunched and sprayed with digital polychromatic dust, still retaining cuddling values; kind-hearted distortion and asymmetrical echoes do the rest. The resulting music is a well-regulated democracy under an enlightened guidance: single components emerge – each with its own textural spacing and density – yet the sense of collective harmony is what ultimately prevails in spite of a pulsating plurality. Picture tiny crumbles of Taylor Deupree picked and swallowed by birds looking like miniature replicas of Fennesz (the finest variant, not that of the recent abominable Bécs). I would love avoiding an overexploited adjective, but I won’t: “organic” is the keyword, especially in regard to the insect-like industriousness defining large chunks of this album. The successiveness of “Hexa” and “Hepta” is one of the most rewarding, just to identify a highlight; the cohesiveness in this luminous integrity is a given. A solid effort by two artists whose creative conceptualizations give an idea of imperturbable reliability.