Review Summary: Subjectively beautiful
When I visited Japan last year, the final stop on my tour was Odaiba- a huge artificial island just outside of Tokyo. Odaiba is essentially a mega-theme-park featuring hundreds of outlet stores, a Ferris wheel, and a replica of the Statue of Liberty. The truly odd part was that I visited the island on a Sunday morning when there were only a few other people there. I had expected Japan to be a claustrophobic jumble of humanity, yet there I stood, alone, in a park that had been designed for thousands of visitors. This sense of urban loneliness was a bit unnerving, but also quite beautiful and strange. I don’t know how to describe the feeling other than saying that I felt like an alien explorer who had stumbled upon the colorful remnants of humanity’s progress.
I tell this story because Shintaro Sakamoto’s latest album,
Love If Possible, elicited a similar feeling. Although I’m unfamiliar with Sakamoto’s previous work (as well as his former psych-rock band Yura Yura Teikoku), this album quickly hooked me with an intriguing stripped-back sound incorporating elements of lounge rock and disco. Like the germinating spores that inhabit the cover art, the songs on
Love If Possible are simple and colorful, but manage to turn into something more moody and complex when given time to evolve. The eponymous intro track is most emblematic of this style, with discordant guitar glissandos and an unsettling bass line eventually giving way to warm female vocals. Sakamoto has such a terrific command of atmosphere that he can transport the listener from a cold alien world to a sunny Hawaiian paradise by simply adding a few more elements to a track. Given that the whole album is in Japanese, it’s even more impressive that Sakamoto conveys enough mood through his instrumentals and inflections to make up for an international audience’s lack of lyrical insight.
With the exception of Nishiuchi Tetsu’s flute on “Tournament of Macho Men” and saxophone on “Others,” the album is sonically sparse, relying almost entirely on Sakamoto’s guitar and vocal work. However, this limited basket of musical ingredients doesn’t stop Sakamoto from exploring a wide variety of sounds and genres. While many tracks are full of longing and melancholy (“Like an Animal” and the aforementioned “Others”), some are more playful and humorous. “Purging the Demons” sees Sakamoto duet with a vocoder in kitschy sci-fi fashion, and “Feeling Immortal” is a standout surf-rock tune with an infectious guitar groove. In an interview for the album, Sakamoto described the record as possessing “the spirit of an all-girls band at a school festival. Not a smooth and seasoned performance, but… a joyful sounding creation.”
Ultimately, the majority of tracks on
Love If Possible end up falling somewhere between joy and desolation. Lead single “Disco Is” represents this trend well as an initially cheerful and upbeat track that becomes more wistful and haunting as it progresses. Despite initially wanting the album to be “happy and fun,” Sakamoto says that “it got heavier and eventually the finished product is what we have now. Even if I tried harder, I can’t do light and bright.” However, the uniquely abstract mood of
Love If Possible is part of what makes it so charming. Artists seem to get caught up in the notion that music needs to appeal to basic emotions in order to engage, but more nebulous mood music like Sakamoto’s is often the source of true beauty.
Human emotions are complex and absurd. This album is special to me because it brings back fond memories of my lonely Sunday morning in a deserted theme park. Yet according to Sakamoto, the album was inspired by “growing out your nail and healing injuries and the such.” This is the true beauty of emotionally vague music. It would be too easy to simply make songs about love or loss and leave it at that. No, Sakamoto decided to make an album about
cellular reproduction. Then, on an entirely different continent, I listened to his music and related to it in a vastly different way. I’m sure that if you listen to it, it’ll trigger some other strange emotional memory that neither Sakamoto nor I are capable of possessing.
Love If Possible isn’t any sort of game-changing musical revelation. On the contrary- it’s a quiet, contemplative record well-suited for introspection and getting you through your next existential crisis. Sakamoto’s music isn’t inherently touching or meaningful; any weight that it has is ultimately dependent on the listener. Hell, maybe it isn’t even that good. Music this elemental and absurd really isn’t objectively
anything, but it was something for me. Just like a stem cell, it can take on many forms.
