Ogurusu NorihideModernReview

A plain white cover with black writing contains a CD with eight numbered (but unnamed) tracks ranging between 1:04 and 10:05 in length.

Tiny clicks, almost not there, precede and then accompany acoustic piano chords sounded regularly until they become almost hypnotic. Small changes maintain engagement.

(Thoughts on first listening: there's nothing there, just obvious things: what could possibly be interesting about this music?)

Simple elements - strummed acoustic guitar, muffled beatbox, acoustic piano, organ, occasional electronics - are arranged to create an elegant anonymity which allows the listener to listen in their own way.

(Thoughts on second listening: melodies begin to blossom, details emerge, warm sunlight floods a pale room.)

There is something approaching silence in this music: the implication of negative space above and around each piece.

Some tracks hover between songform and ambience, at times the balance tips toward the latter. Throughout there is a sparing, subtle, opaque quality to the music.

Diverse feelings are evoked by employing limited materials organised into minimal structures. Norihide appears at times intent on expressing sentiment with as great a clarity as possible, while at one and the same time providing a clear, uncluttered space for its contemplation.

(Thoughts on third listening: listening to this out loud in a room is best, not in headphones -that way the music inhabits the environment, it creates a space in your soul).

I am grateful for this luminous music.