Mitsuhiro Yoshimura, Taku Sugimoto - not BGM and so on

(h)earrings
HR-02

That the title of Mitsuhiro Yoshimura’s debut solo release from earlier this year makes up half of the somewhat curious moniker of this new release perhaps shouldn’t be a surprise. and so on appeared amidst a small flurry of praise in early 2007, the minimal, high pitched feedback waves created via the manual adjustment of a pair of headphones that in turn channelled the output of a mixing board fell somewhere between the disembodied instruments of Toshimaru Nakamura and Sachiko M. The delicately severe slithers of piercing sound resembled the tones of Sachiko’s empty sampler running on low batteries, the lines of feedback wavering in the air both as Yoshimura tweaked the headphones and as the listener moved position in relation to the sound. The methods used to make that recording reappear on this new release.

Whilst it was a strong debut, and so on begged two questions. The first asked how much depth was there to be mined in Yoshimura’s finely honed technique once we had one solid document. What more could be achieved to keep future releases from becoming variations on a theme? The second question asked how Yoshimura’s contribution to collaborative work might sound, particularly as the liner notes to and so on suggested that the amount of control he had over the feedback output was limited, seemingly deliberately so.

Somehow both questions seem spectacularly irrelevant in light of this new release, a recording of a live duo with the ever perplexing Taku Sugimoto. Throughout the fifty-five minutes of the CD Yoshimura allows his icy twines to relentlessly cut through the air, thinning and thickening in places, the pitch staying at a consistently high level though shifting within a small bracket. As with and so on the sounds dance all over the place as you adjust your position whilst listening, but essentially Yoshimura’s contribution here is very similar to his playing on the previous release.

What really makes not BGM and so on for me is Sugimoto’s contribution, or rather his apparent lack of it. After a first cursory listen without reading the sleevenotes I couldn’t pick out anything at all that could be easily identified as his input to the recording. In the notes he is listed as playing “electric fun” (should this be electric fan? Quite possibly not) CD, acoustic guitar and lightsabers. Just to confuse us a little more.

Further, closer listening reveals some clues to the mystery. The first obvious contribution from Sugimoto comes in BGM, the first of the five tracks. As Yoshimura’s shredded tones fill the live space we hear a CD of old jazz standards playing, and conversations taking place in the foreground. On first listen the assumption was that we were hearing the club PA in the background, with audience members talking as the piece began. Clearly though Sugimoto is responsible for these curious intrusions, as both stop abruptly leaving Yoshimura’s feedback hanging, interrupted only by distant traffic sounds. What they are there for though is open to debate. Were these sounds chosen on purpose? Is the cultural baggage that comes with a jazz standard to be considered as part of the music? Why do they appear in the first moments of the album and then not again? The sounds themselves work together very well and result in a rewarding listen yet its hard to listen to this piece without feeling directly challenged by the musicians.

At intervals throughout the first track some shuffling sounds can be heard but little else. The second track not BGM seems to feature only Yoshimura’s sound, drifting gently and slowly until in the last few seconds someone, presumably Sugimoto gets up and walks about, causing subtle shifts in the waves of sound as they make their way to the microphone making the recording.

There are no gaps between the five tracks that make up the album, and according to the sleevenotes it was all recorded at one concert, but another confusing aspect of the release is how these five pieces have been organised. The end of track three not and sees Yoshimura’s whistling sounds feather away into silence and audience applause, only for them to return abruptly at the beginning of the following piece. The same happens at the beginning of track five as applause breaks out and conversations can be heard, doors open and close and as the short track continues it sounds as if the audience depart, yet all along Yoshimura’s tones continue. Were they there in the room or were they overlaid in post-production? I suspect the former, but their presence in the recording seemingly after the concert has ended is another curious development. How did anyone, musicians included know when the performance was over? Perhaps it isn’t and its still going. And so on.

This final track involving the audience departure is mischievously titled not music, the reverse of the piece that precedes it, the longest piece on the disc that seems to contain the most musical elements and is called, logically music. This fourth track features a series of sounds appearing alongside Yoshimura’s output, some that could feasibly be merely variations and fluctuations in his playing, and some that clearly come from another source. A cleaner, pure tone hangs parallel for a while, possibly originating from Sugimoto’s Electric Fun, who knows. Then three quarters through the twenty-five minute piece what must be the lightsaber appears, a buzzing, rasping sound that suits the mood perfectly, despite appearing to be merely switched on and off at seemingly arbitrary points.

So the question of how Yoshimura’s methods can work in a collaborative setting are neatly sidestepped by the somewhat oblique set of circumstances arranged to create this new release. Beyond the fact that it sounds good there is much pleasure to be had from trying to decipher what is going on here. I can’t help but draw links with other recent Sugimoto releases that seem to challenge the listener’s perception of what a recording should consist of. In this case, shouldn’t an improvised duo sound like two people playing? Why do we have to search for the contribution of one of the players? Why when Taku Sugimoto is known as a guitarist and an acoustic guitar is listed amongst his instruments used here do we not hear anything at all that resembles a guitar? At the same time why does the concert appear to finish twice, and why on the second occasion when the concert ends does the music not stop?

These are delightful questions that bring a further level to Yoshimura’s music. It doesn’t really matter that he himself does not appear to do much different here than on his previous release. The company he keeps here throws it all into a new perspective. A fascinating, fine release.

(h)earrings