V/A "VARIABLE RESISTANCE: 10 Hours of Sound from Japan" 2xCD
12.00€
In Stock
Format: cd
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This two-disc compilation coincides with last year's SFMOMA exhibit of the same name, a "listening event documenting the past 50 years of Japanese experimental music," though this recording features mostly electronic-oriented material from the past few years. Despite this, its breadth is exceptional and some of the tracks are unreleased, so it's excellent both for collectors or as an introduction. Noise, of course, is a focal point, and each of the several noise pieces are quite distinct—Pain Jerk's track is a rumbling, rhythmic assault in contrast to Masonna's brighter vocal and synth-driven freakout. The Otomo Yoshihide track, consisting only of high frequency guitar feedback, is easily the toughest; he exploits the subtle interaction of two tonally pure sustained notes, holding them for uncomfortable lengths of time. It's interesting and challenging but I prefer his more dynamic work. Other tracks range from minimalist-inspired rhythmic clicks, such as the Nerve Net Noise, Atau Tanaka, and Ryoji Ikeda tracks, which all manage to distinguish themselves with their detailed but disarmingly simple tonal palettes, to more abstract, juxtaposed medleys. Masahiro Miwa's contribution uses plaintive low-fi synths to establish tension; though the sounds are light and playful, the overall feel is heavy and works well with his stated topic of youth violence in Japan. I like I.d.'s supposedly "hacker"-inspired piece. Its discrete bundles of static and waves of digital noise sound almost like information, and it slowly develops into something vaguely repetitive and structured. The compilation also features a few notable older but forward-looking pieces. Yasunao Tone's track is about contrasts: beauty and ugliness as well as ancient and modern, combining gorgeous flute playing and a noisy synth that sounds like the creaking of a door. The music stops periodically for an NPR-type voice to read some semi-decent poetry; although the track is long and generally simple, it's still engaging and I love the flute playing. The Kazuo Uehara composition, dating back to 1988, has the most impressive sounds on the disc. It begins with some quiet, indeterminate events and some mumbled French with a cavernous echo, and the vocals grow increasingly processed and alien. Stunning woodwind-like drones build towards an organ-like range and later into hauntingly serene howling and whistling. The ground that this compilation covers, as a whole, is amazing, and it definitely reaffirms the brilliance of Japanese musical innovation.