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Haino/Kawabata/Yoshida - Ichi To Ichi Ga Kasanatte Shimaumade
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It's
not a surprise, but it is startling. Three titans of the Japanese
underground join forces, recording 76 minutes of improv in a Tokyo
studio. Not a surprise in a scene as collaboration happy as this one,
but startling for the sheer firepower on display: each member is an
icon in and of themselves, each is known for the depth and extremity of
not only the sounds they create, but the visceral aggression of their
performances.
News of this particular meeting of minds raises some pretty high
expectations, perhaps tinged with concern as to whether or not it will
actually come together in a meaningful way. Keiji Haino's guitar is a
powerfully dark vehicle for abstraction and inner turmoil, Makoto
Kawabata's extroverted guitar is all about throwing ridiculously
energetic sparks of psychedelic aggression, and Tatsuya Yoshida's
drumming is known for superhuman feats of stop-on-a-dime, whiplash time
keeping. Will they unite, or collide?
The answer, of course, is both: the attraction of this sort of
improvisation is not watching talents merge so much as duke it out, but
the times that they do merge are truly amazing, small pockets of single
mindedness that gain power from the contrast to the chaos that
surrounds them. "Song2" (the tracks are numbered, not titled) teeters
on the edge of unity as the three weave in and out of each other's
leads. They never truly cohere, or drift too far from each other,
creating a tension from constantly almost coming into focus. "Song7"
similarly skirts this edge, drifting from one nearly graspable idiom to
the next. Haino tends to take the lead, introducing an idea then
suddenly abandoning it, only allowing the others to lock into place for
a few seconds before pulling the rug out, quickly steering in a new
direction that requires a complete rethink.
"Song3" starts with a chilling intro that evokes nothing so much as
outer space, as Haino's nightmarish tone is slowly overtaken by
Kawabata's cosmic squalls and Yoshida's aggressive, almost violent
drumming. It almost...almost...becomes a straight rock 'n' roll song,
gradually shape-shifting into mutant funk as Kawabata's rhythmic jabs
meld with Yoshida's insistent (and briefly traditional) timekeeping.
Everything collapses in exhaustion at the 3:30 mark, then explodes in
an almost hardcore frenzy sixty seconds later, sputtering and throwing
out sparks of noise, then back to a not-quite crash. It goes on like
this, taking one form after another, always immediate yet defying
description, locking together in unified heights only to walk away
seconds later.
"Song9" is almost seasick, pitching and shifting like a broken ship,
yet (in contrast) always staying on some sort of course: the moments
grow organically from each other, one thought leading to the next, even
coming dangerously close to a unifying theme, albeit a chaotic and
volatile one. "Song10" picks up the thread, starting with a cold,
forbidding tone that gently blooms into a dark landscape not entirely
unlike Ash Ra Tempel's "Amboss." It's as darkly seductive as the
previous tracks are brutally disorienting, the aftermath of a
particularly devastating battle. "Song11" returns us to jagged, halting
confusion, a resurgence of chaos.
"Until One And One Happen Together" is an unusual release, format wise:
it's not a CD, but a DVD that contains video and MP3s. The video (of
the first nine tracks only) consists of one, straight on camera angle,
recording the studio proceedings with a matter of fact, unblinking eye.
This rather plain approach would normally be singularly uninspiring,
but here, it allows the listener to see the interactions as they occur,
without flash or directorial interruption...just like a live show. It
changes perception of the music, from one of mental landscape to one of
musical athleticism as the trio alternately, tangles, locks into a
groove, and drifts apart: those who view improvisation as a collision
of wills can observe to their heart's content. "Until One And One
Happen Together" will hopefully inspire more releases like this,
showing how fascinating music can seemingly be plucked from thin air. |
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