Artist: Lost In Japan
Keywords: Experimental, Ambient, Ethereal, Soundscape, Spiritual Vibes
Reviewer: Alex Spalding
Let’s lost in Japan together!
This album, by none-other than Lost In Japan, is titled Nacreous. The terminology is maybe not very current or widespread in our vernacular, but it describes the illuminate, reflective quality of clouds, fogs, maybe certain smogs, probably not so many noxious gas vapors, but… you can kind of get a sense of this quality, too, from listening to the music. Here, hold my hand dear reader, let us not stray too far from each other in these strange mists…
‘Xiphoid Process’. That’s the name of the first piece. It begins to unfold slowly, with a pleasant undercurrent of white noise over which very full, thick drones come on. It’s like a bizarre signal feed broadcasted straight to the receptors of my brain. I might have to loosen these headphones, they’re very tight on my head right now. This is like shiny, white cumulonimbi hanging overhead in a bright blue sky.
Dreamy is a word I would use to describe the track ‘Fogbow Dewbow’, which… also makes me think of Foghorn Leghorn. It’s a very thoughtful piece of music, inspiring in me a wish to leave the cold computer monitor behind and sit outside under a willow, reading and listening to this while maybe taking pauses on the occasional sentence to stare up, reflect, seek ways in which the chapters relate to my life. I’m currently reading two books. One I’ve been trying for about a year now to finish that is about human consciousness, laying down a theory for how it can be explained, and the other, on loan from a friend, is about the skif-smoking flute players of Jajouka immortalized by Bryan Jones.
These do not relate to me at all, as I possess neither consciousness nor a flute. That is why I’m off to see the great and powerful Oz (and maybe I can get a two-for-one deal!)
The next track, ‘Fornamen Magnum’, is to me a more subtle drone affair, one that takes a minute or, more precisely, 2 minutes and 12 seconds for me to really realize is happening anywhere but in my head. Strangely, it is only shortly after that time that the organic-feeling feedback crescendo occurs, followed by more windy overtures, gusts of aftershock. I feel as if I am listening to a slumbering giant or maybe the Earth itself as it yawns, revolves, passes gas.
‘Yuthog Nyingthig’ is quite a different thing from the beginning. I detect these wonderful, tiny, obscure harmonies right away and feel very happy about where this might go. The drone approaches, drowning all in its wake. Some of the supporting tones floating around in there are very somnial. This is probably my favourite piece on the album thus far. I don’t really feel this about drone-genre works too often, but I would say this would easily make an honorable entry into my weird mental catalog of surreal night-time music best listened to on a late-night/early-morning walk someplace. Clear skies, a starlit voyage, earth damp with dew; cosmic love ray, cigarette, silent world.
A span of space with occasional onrush of wide textures makes up the beginning of ‘Sadhu Baba’, which begins to break down, the mix sizzling with turgid pads, before becoming dark again. The journey feels very oceanic, as though we are delving to the darkest depths of the seas, like the fisherman in the legend of Urashima Tarō. If this is the case, then we are most likely lost!..
… but, somehow, I managed to find my way to the bottom of the page anyway. I hope you will enjoy this work, I’d highly recommend getting lost in it, preferably alone, during any moment you’re afforded some quiet time for contemplation, solitude, serenity. Here’s a link: