Making a discovery through producing and living in a pandemic

——Takuma, you made your latest album, Last Afternoon, in this pandemic. What effect did covid-19 have?

Takuma Watanabe: Right after the pandemic hit, I started working on two film scores. The director and I would have meetings over Zoom and whatnot. I tried out many things. It was a situation where I had to adapt and act with my instincts. What influence did that have on the album? Well, I’m in the middle of checking the feedback on that.

——So, you’re figuring it out as you go.

Takuma: Right. I want to place importance on organically coming up with things like, “Let’s try this out” whenever I speak with my friends. For instance, I want a friend to send over an audio file of them performing and mix it with a track I’ve prepared or put together audio tracks recorded in different places. I feel like such experiments could be fun.

——Perhaps you’re able to come up with new approaches because we’re in a predicament today. What about you, Yayako?

Yayako: I’ve never lived in a time where we had to stay indoors as much as possible and avoid touching other people. What I experienced during the first state of emergency announcement influenced me in particular. For example, I have a ten-year-old child, and he tells me things like, “I’m going to make [something] out of clay. Watch me until the end.” Usually, I would make excuses and not go along with it because I’m busy. But when the announcement was declared, I had a lot of time to spend at home. I thought, “I’m going to watch what my kid makes without thinking about anything else,” and I felt this indescribable sense of liberation. It made me question why I had been trying to live life so fast.

——You could stop in your tracks and think?

Yayako: Kids live their life by focusing only on what’s in front of them, right? They’re the very [embodiment of] “be here now.” It might be over-the-top to say sharing that joy is priceless, but it made me realize how important it is. Also, we have an old piano at home, and I sometimes practice playing it with my son. It’s not to achieve anything. I feel joy when I press down on the keys, and the sounds reverberate inside me. It was like my five senses were sharpened in an environment where other information was chipped away. Though it’s far from perfect, I write, and I would be happy if somebody read my writing and felt something. I had been unaware of the importance of living and writing, making sounds with a piano, and watching my kid breathe in front of my eyes. I mean, these are basic things in life.

What’s Takuma Watanabe and Yayako Uchida’s source of creativity?

——That’s a huge realization.

Yayako: Also, what left an impression on me regarding work is no art, no life, a show on NHK Educational TV, which I’m a narrator of. It introduces self-taught people who make artwork that can be called art brut (outsider art). For instance, there’s this grandpa who’s a barber and continues to make masks. Masks of different types cover the walls. But he doesn’t make the masks because he wants to show them to someone. For the grandpa, the process of making masks is what’s important. I think it’s the same thing as eating and sleeping for him.

——Art is a part of their lifestyle for people like him.

Yayako: Yes. Upon seeing such people, it made me think, “What does it mean to express something, anyway?” So, I want to ask this, Takuma: where does your motivation for being creative come from? Mine is quite all over the place, but can you trace the root and create work?

Takuma: For me, the very process of creating is fun. Once I finish a piece, I already start thinking about the next thing. Releasing a complete piece of work to the world is a different process from creating something. It’s like I’m not satisfied with it. How can I make my creation land [where I want it to]? That’s what I worry about all the time.

Yayako: How do you view the act of playing your music live?

Takuma: Personally, the songs I release as an album are complete at that point. It’s fun to play live, but it’s hard to replicate the songs off an album, and there’s music that’s suitable for different events and formats. I want to treat live shows as spaces to create too. I want to document that to release it as an album.

Yayako: As an entirely different thing.

Takuma: Yeah. For me, the act of creating is my motive. When I was a kid, I wanted to become a magician. Like performing music, you need skills to do magic, no? But as I got to know the context of magic, my interest shifted from polishing [my magic] skills to building magic sets. I would come up with original magic tricks and write an explanation about how they work too. I feel like that process is quite similar to [songwriting].

——Both magic and music are illusions. Both can change the setting in an instant.

Takuma: I also use a computer to produce music, but the primary tool I use to write songs is sheet music. I like how an image emerges whenever I write or read sheet music. Writing notes onto sheet music is simple, as you can do it if you have manuscript paper and pencil. But beyond the musical notations awaits a different world. That’s the intriguing part.

“I believe in fate”- Yayako Uchida

——It’s interesting how Watanabe-san’s well of creativity stems from magic. Yayako, do you have any sources regarding creating things?

Yayako: I completely go with the flow. Like, I started singing and reading [my work] aloud when I met Takuma-san, and I started writing when Michio Akiyama read my letter and said, “Try writing an essay.” I’ve been doing things passively and with little ambition, but I believe in fate. It’s fun to gain inspiration from that, and I always expect the unexpected to happen.

——Your origins lie in your encounters?

Yayako: Yes. Everything starts with meeting people.

Takuma: You even have a book called Kaikenki (published by Little More) (laughs).

Yayako: True (laughs). I write picture books as well. But I can only write a story after being shown the drawings first. I don’t have the urge to write a story from scratch. I don’t have the desire to express anything. That’s why I think it’s cool when people have something sacred like Takuma, like “This is what I genuinely want to make.” I can’t ever be like that, so I admire it.

Takuma: I have an obsession, though, like “If I don’t have this, then what can I do?” I can’t sit still when I’m not working on something.

Yayako: Like a workaholic?

Takuma: I wonder. I think a part of me is like that, but making music of my own, not for work and someone else, is like a daily routine. Continuing to do this every day differs from studying or practicing. For example, unless you play the piano every day, you’d no longer be able to play it. But I don’t enjoy playing it every day for that [purpose]. So, I recently let go of playing the piano.

Yayako: What! That’s shocking to hear. What do you mean you let it go? Did you become uninterested?

Takuma: Hmm. I feel like I no longer adhere to the role of a pianist.

Yayako: How long have you not played it?

Takuma: I think I haven’t played it for over half a year.

Yayako: Wow! I spoke to Ryuichi Sakamoto over the phone the other day (as seen in Shukan Bunshun WOMAN published by Bungei Shunju), and he said that he used to think of his concerts as practice. He told me he had a cocky side like that. Because his stamina is declining now, he shyly said he plays as much as possible because he wouldn’t be able to unless he practices every day.

Takuma: I started playing the piano late.

Yayako: What age was that, again?

Takuma: Around 16 years old. In the world of classical music, it’s too late. Besides, to me, the piano is the same as a typewriter. It’s one tool to write music. If my fingers move just enough to press the keys, that’s fine with me. The time I spend touching my computer keyboard is increasing as of late, and it’s not that different from touching the piano.

Yayako: I see. So, is COMBOPIANO over?

Takuma: It’s not over (laughs). I would have to ask (bandmates) (Kazuhisa) Uchihashi and Senju (Muneomi), but even if we’re not active right now, we might get together again at some point. It’s like making a movie; people come together quickly, make something by sharing ideas, and go separate ways once it’s finished like, “Thank you.” I don’t hate that sort of relationship. I don’t constantly have to be doing things with someone else.

——Is it easier to do a solo project than a band?

Takuma: Yes. But I can’t play the piano well enough to perform with Uchihashi and Senju. I need to practice a bit.

——Perhaps you could join them with [an instrument] aside from the piano. If you were to start sighboat again, I feel like it would be distinct from your past work.

Yayako: I want to try doing it again.

Takuma: Did we release our second album in 2010? Since then, the three of us have been through various changes. I’m interested in how that would manifest in the sound.

Yayako: Even if we’re not like, “Let’s make an album!” if we’re like, “Let’s try making one song remotely,” then we might make something lighthearted and fun while each of us lives life separately.

Takuma: We don’t have a characteristic unique to sighboat, in a good way, so we should play what we want whenever. I think we’ll have an approach that’s different from before. I want to try something that has no connection or relationship to our two previous albums.

Yayako: I’d love to join you on that adventure!

Takuma Watanabe
He studied composition and music technology in 1997 at Berklee college of music in Boston. In 2007 he joined the world tour of David Sylvian performing with synthesizers and computer and played 28 concerts. In 2014 he founded a string ensemble with computer technology which has been giving public performances of contemporary and drone music. In 2010 he started his film composing career. He has performed or collaborated with, Jonas Mekas, David Sylvian, Joan La Barbara, Kazuhisa Uchihashi, Akira Rabelais, Félicia Atkinson, Tatsuhisa Yamamoto, Seiichi Yamamoto amongst others.

Yayako Uchida
She was born in Tokyo in 1976. She is involved in the world of words and sounds; she mainly writes essays, but also translates, writes lyrics, plays in a band called sighboat, and does narrations. She is also a mother of three. Her recent publications include a book co-authored with neuroscientist Nobuko Nakano, Nande Kazoku Wo Tsuzukeru No? (Bunshun Shinsho). She has translated picture books including Ping (Poplar Publishing), Blanket & Bear, a Remarkable Pair (Hayakawa Publishing), and Maman (Pie International). Her essay series, “BLANK PAGE” can be found in the quarterly magazine, Shukan Bunshun WOMAN. She is also a narrator on the NHK Educational TV Program, no art, no life.

Translation Lena Grace Suda

The post Takuma Watanabe x Yayako Uchida [Part 2]: Exploring the source of the pair’s creativity appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

Takuma Watanabe is a musician who works across genres, including contemporary music, pop, and film scores. Meanwhile, Yayako Uchida wears many hats—including that of essayist, translator, and actor. The two, who used to work together as part of the musical group sighboat, reunited for the first time in a long while for this conversation. This is the first half of the resulting two-part interview. In part one, we discuss Watanabe’s new album, Last Afternoon. The album features bassist Masato Suzuki, who was also a member of sighboat, and other leading Japanese string players such as Seigen Tokuzawa and Atsuko Hatano. The wide range of guest artists featured on the album also includes American vocalist Joan La Barbara and Akira Rabelais, a composer and software developer known for his collaborations with Bjork and David Sylvian. Additionally, the album was mastered by Jim O’Rourke. How did this album come about, and what did Uchida think upon listening? TOKION takes a closer look at the mysterious sound of strings and electronic music melting together.

How sighboat was formed

ーーIt seems it’s been a while since the two of you last talked like this.

Yayako Uchida: I lived in London from 2012 to 2018, and I haven’t seen Takuma since moving to England—so we haven’t seen each other in about 10 years. It’s been so long, so I’m a bit nervous. Like meeting an old lover. (laughs)

――So, you two started making music together after performing at an event?

Yayako: That’s right. There was a [Jean-Luc] Godard event where I was supposed to do a reading of a movie script. But I wasn’t that familiar with Godard. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried listening to the albums of the artists who were playing at the event. And then I was struck by his music, so I asked, “Will you collaborate with me?” I did a reading, and Takuma, you played the piano for me, right?

Takuma Watanabe: Yeah. After that, we started to perform at other events together, so I asked her to do readings and sing a bit. Through that, I started to think that maybe we could make some sort of music together. At first, I thought Yayako could do a solo project or something, but then she said she wanted to do a band.

Yayako: I definitely don’t want to be solo. (laughs) I wanted to get Takuma or Masato [Suzuki] involved somehow.

――Then you guys started sighboat and released two albums. What did you think after trying out music, Yayako?

Yayako: I’d always admired music, but I personally grew up listening to fairly popular music. When I was in elementary school, the first album I bought was “License to Ill” by the Beastie Boys, and after that, I was listening to stuff like Radiohead and Red Hot Chili Peppers. But Takuma and Masato had a totally different relationship to music. So I wondered how to keep up. But I was a total amateur, so I figured I’d be myself and have them use me as an ingredient in their cooking.

Takuma: Speaking of which, Masato and I had a sort of composer’s meeting. We asked, what kind of music would suit Yayako?

Yayako: Oh, I didn’t know that!

Takuma: After we made the first album, Yayako said she wanted to make music that was a bit more rock n’ roll. So when we made the second album, Masato and I discussed approaches that we hadn’t taken in the previous album, and we featured guest artists like the guitarist Kazuhisa Uchihashi and drummer Senju Muneomi.

Uchida: Oh, I see. Looking back on it now, I think I got to have a really valuable experience.

The “seamless universe” depicted by Last Afternoon

――Some time has gone by since then, and now, Takuma has just released his new album, Last Afternoon. What did you think after listening to the album, Yayako?

Yayako: I thought: For the past 10 years, I’ve been drifting in a big sea. What I mean by that is that I have three kids, I write essays and do a bit of creative work, but basically, I’ve lived my life as an ordinary person. I’ve spent a lot of time in the mindset of always thinking about people other than myself. When I listened to Last Afternoon, I realized that although we’re the same age, and were born and raised on this earth for the same number of years, Takuma has faced solitude. And rather than drowning in it, he’s able to pump what he needs from the well of solitude.

――The well of solitude?

Yayako: This is a bit of an abstract thought, but because my family has grown, I’ve always been part of a family or the surrounding community. So the rhythm of my life makes it difficult to feel solitude. Takuma is an artist, so it’s like he can infinitely keep digging deeper into the well of solitude. As a result, when someone like me, who has a different rhythm of life, listens to an album like this, we can become aware of a world on a completely different dimension, and there’s a sense of freedom in that. But the feeling isn’t just gratitude, like, “Thanks for opening the door to a world I didn’t know.” At the same time, there’s another feeling, something like an immeasurable fear.

――What kind of fear is that?

Yayako: It’s the feeling I get from Takuma’s solitude. He also made a music video this time, right? That video was also somewhat creepy or uncomfortable, with a gloomy and dark atmosphere, but there’s also something faintly cheerful about it. It’s not the rock bottom of despair, nor is it full of hope. It feels like a back and forth between the two. Anyway, the large scale and the way it’s unlike anything else—I interpreted that as solitude. To put it a little better: independence. I felt that Takuma has a strong spirit.

――I see. You really listened to it deeply. What did you [Takuma] think as the artist?

Yayako: Let’s try asking the artist! (laughs)

Takuma: Well, is there anything more to say? (laughs) In the past, I’ve often made music for some sort of occasion or in collaboration with others—people like Yayako, Kip Hanrahan, and David Sylvian. So, it’s probably only recently that I’ve started to take the time to make what I want on my own. In that sense, this album may be introspective in some ways.

――That introspective aspect may be connected to the sense of solitude that Yayako felt.

Takuma: For this album, I ultimately recorded eight songs that were left over from the songs I’d been composing since about 2014. I’d been doing a thing where I’d wake up every morning and write down at least one bar of notes on a music sheet. So, I didn’t have a specific concept, but it was like the creation itself became my motivation. I had four string players, Yuko Kajitani, Anzu Suhara, Seigen Tokuzawa, and Hiroki Chiba, perform the songs I wrote, and the tour was one of the major triggers for making the album. I actually wrote some of the songs while imagining what the performers would sound like.

――You formed a string quartet in 2014. Are those four the members?

Takuma: Yeah. At the time, I was studying Johann Sebastian Bach, so I guess it was formed out of a personal motivation to teach myself counterpoint, or to do a study of it.

Yayako: I see! Sensei, when you say counterpoint, are you talking about a method?

Takuma: (laughs) Yes. It involves making multiple melodies that are in harmony with each other. For example, one person plays the bass, and the other performs the inner parts of the melody.

Yayako: Bach came up with counterpoint?

Takuma: It has origins in early hymns and church music. Bach didn’t come up with it, but his works are the culmination of it. In the two years after starting my quartet, I think I achieved certain results through the music that came out of my studies, and I’ve also used that knowledge in my film score work. After that, my interest in composition underwent minor changes, and I began to focus on things like textures and moods. In the process, I became more interested in what kind of sound would be generated when string sounds were put through a computer.

Yayako: This album sounds digital at first, but after it passes through your body, what remains is an organic feeling. It’s as if these completely opposite worlds are actually connected at their core, and it moves back and forth between these worlds freely. So, when I was listening to the album, I thought, “What’s this organic feeling I’m getting?” When I learned that you wrote the songs in your daily life, and that you were thinking about the performers on a personal level, it made sense to me.

――I get the impression that it [the album] is wavering on the border between two worlds. The album is titled Last Afternoon, and it has the atmosphere of dusk—when the worlds of night and day melt together.

Yayako: That’s true. Like those worlds are seamlessly connected. The songs are mostly instrumental, and then halfway through, you hear Joan [La Barbara]’s voice. It’s striking, but if you look at the overall structure of the album, it’s consistent. I’d always thought that instruments and voices were two different worlds, but they seem to be seamlessly connected here, so I felt taken by surprise.

Chance encounters with the collaborators who helped with the sound

――Earlier, you mentioned that you became interested in the texture of sound. The sound and mixing on this album are unique. The sounds are mixed in a strange way, like time and space are distorted. Is there anything you were conscious of in terms of the sound?

Takuma: I wanted a work that was derived from the mutual interference of the sounds on the score and the sounds generated from the computer. Then, I wanted to distance that from academicism and form, and bring it to life in my own way. So, there was a period when I felt like I was walking alone in a pitch-black tunnel. But within the context of contemporary music and electronic music, I found some lights here and there that became hints. If I walked towards them [the “lights”], I’d make a small discovery. [This album] has a sound and timbre that was created through that process of walking.

――Was the inspiration you got from Akira Rabelais and Jim O’Rourke important in terms of the sound?

Takuma: That was huge. I collaborated with Akira in about 2018. I met him through David Sylvian. When I was with David on his tour, after the Cologne show, David told me, “There’s someone I want to introduce you to.” I asked him, “Who is it?” and he replied, “Akira,” so I thought he was Japanese, but when I met him, he was an American composer. We had tea together, and at the time, I was a bit homesick from the exhaustion of touring and the fact that I had been away from Japan for a month or two. So, I was whining, or grumbling, to Akira. (laughs) And he listened to my grumbling with a calm smile. When I looked at his website later, I found that he was an artist with this amazing worldview, and I felt embarrassed. Later, I got in touch with him because I was interested in his ideas and the music software he was developing, and I’ve been in contact with him since. I’m inspired by how he connects to music. Jim, of course, has an amazing way of focusing on sound, doesn’t he? It makes me realize what I still need to work on.

――Jim’s mixing is unique, isn’t it?

Takuma: Although the sound may seem a bit small by today’s mastering standards, I was truly amazed at the master data he created. It was in the right volume, without losing any of the dynamics of the strings or the nuances of the music. It reminded me that the depth of his involvement in sound is quite deep.

Yayako: Can I say something a bit off-topic? I don’t know much about Jim…

Takuma: Didn’t you meet him once?

Yayako: Yeah. I met him once backstage at some event. He suddenly asked me, “Are you Yuya Uchida’s daughter?” Then he said, “I like him,” and listed off movie titles that even I didn’t know. (laughs) Like, “Yuya was awesome in that Nikkatsu Roman Porno film,” or stuff about Toshi Ichiyanagi’s Opera from the works of Tadanori Yokoo and the Flower Travellin’ Band. I felt a certain warmth in being told all kinds of things about my father, who I’d been estranged from, by a musician I’d met for the first time.

――Jim really loves movies.

Yayako: Also, I went to David Sylvian’s show in Paris.

Takuma: Oh yeah, you came.

Yayako: You were homesick at that time, too. (laughs)

Takuma: What! Was I really? (laughs) I do remember wanting to eat Japanese food—well, I suppose that’s homesickness. (laughs)

Yayako: But his performance was perfect. I thought it was interesting how he has a feeling of instability about him. By the way, wasn’t the reason David found out about you because he happened to hear sighboat at a café in Kyoto?

Takuma: That’s right. When David was in Kyoto for a concert, he went to a café that was playing sighboat. Apparently, he asked, “Who is this song by?” That’s how he stumbled upon the album I’d released at the time, and he asked me to join him on a world tour. It was really fortuitous.

――It’s amazing that the music they were playing at the café led to an offer. It must have made a strong impression on David.

Takuma: Apparently, David was looking for people to join him on a world tour at the time. At first, I thought it’d be more like a guest appearance with a laptop rather than a band. Ultimately, it was decided that I’d play some songs in my repertoire, so I joined with a piano and a laptop, and I had a lot of fun working on the arrangement of original songs with Steve Jansen and other band members.

Yayako: When you introduced me to David in Paris, he shook my hand and said, “If it weren’t for you, Takuma and I would never have met.” That really left an impression on me.

Takuma: Meeting you was big for me as well, Yayako.

Takuma Watanabe
He studied composition and music technology in 1997 at Berklee college of music in Boston. In 2007 he joined the world tour of David Sylvian performing with synthesizers and computer and played 28 concerts. In 2014 he founded a string ensemble with computer technology which has been giving public performances of contemporary and drone music. In 2010 he started his film composing career. He has performed or collaborated with, Jonas Mekas, David Sylvian, Joan La Barbara, Kazuhisa Uchihashi, Akira Rabelais, Félicia Atkinson, Tatsuhisa Yamamoto, Seiichi Yamamoto amongst others.

Yayako Uchida
She was born in Tokyo in 1976. She is involved in the world of words and sounds; she mainly writes essays, but also translates, writes lyrics, plays in a band called sighboat, and does narrations. She is also a mother of three. Her recent publications include a book co-authored with neuroscientist Nobuko Nakano, Nande Kazoku Wo Tsuzukeru No? (Bunshun Shinsho). She has translated picture books including Ping (Poplar Publishing), Blanket & Bear, a Remarkable Pair (Hayakawa Publishing), and Maman (Pie International). Her essay series, “BLANK PAGE” can be found in the quarterly magazine, Shukan Bunshun WOMAN. She is also a narrator on the NHK Educational TV Program, no art, no life.

Translation Aya Apton

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The post Takuma Watanabe x Yayako Uchida [Part 1]: On Last Afternoon’s musical universe and the background of its production. appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

Mitsume, a four-piece band based in Tokyo, has an intricately constructed, yet minimalist sound that creates a unique atmosphere. Now, the band, which has birthed a one-of-a-kind style with their alternative pop sensibility, has come out with their first album in two years: “VI.” Last year, although the band was unable to work as they’d hoped due to the coronavirus, they began releasing singles every month. And owing to the coronavirus, they developed a new style of recording that opened up a new world. Today, the band is approaching the tenth anniversary of their debut album, “mitsume,” and continues taking on new challenges, such as their first song collaboration with STUTS. I spoke to the four committed members, who continue to boldly evolve.

“VI”: An album created through a new production method

――Your new album, “VI,” was produced during the coronavirus pandemic. What kind of year was 2020 for the band?

Yojiro Suda: In the past, we’d get together at the studio pretty often, even if we weren’t preparing for a live show or a recording session. But during the state of emergency, we didn’t get together. It was the first time since starting the band that we didn’t get together for two months.

nakayaan: When the state of emergency was finally over, we decided we’d try Zoom at least once before meeting up. When we saw each on Zoom for the first time, Mao [Otake] had a beard and long hair that was swept back. (laughs) It was pretty shocking.

――You guys weren’t in touch over those two months?

Yojiro: We had a group message. That’s how we talked about the arrangements while recording the demo.

――You recorded without meeting at all?

Yojiro: So for example, I’d tell everyone I was going into the studio, and then I’d record the drums on a single mic. Then, nakayaan would say, “I’ll try recording the bass next.” That’s how we layered the sounds, one person at a time.

――So recording must have taken a lot of time and effort.

Yojiro: But there were good parts of it, too. When we work separately, we can focus more on our own instruments and record phrases as they come to mind. Once the state of emergency was over and we were able to meet up again, we started a two-part process: each of us recording in the studio or at home and then having a recording session all together at the warehouse. It’s like we’ve added an extra step to the way we’d been making demos up until now.

――When the other members listened to the parts that you each had recorded individually in the studio, did that ever lead to a discussion?

Mao Otake: No, not any more than it had in the past. We respected each other’s ideas and were open to everything. And we’d work on getting the song to its final form.

Yojiro: While I thought a simple eight beat would be nice, I tried to come up with beats that I thought were as interesting as possible, and then record that version first. I figured that if the band said, “Wouldn’t a simple eight beat be better?”, then I’d just switch it out. But everyone was surprisingly open to it, and it just went forward from there. We may have come to a standstill more often when we were meeting in person. Maybe we can be a bit at ease with our approach to songs when we’re each separately contributing our part.

Mao: When everyone gets together, there’s a time limit, right? Like having to finish up by the last train, for example. When you’re working at home, you don’t have those limits, so it was nice to be able to take a step back for a few days and think about it.

Yojiro: I think even if we can’t get together in the future because of corona, we’ve found a way to keep making albums. But when all four of us work together, there are also interesting arrangements that are born by accident. So we’ll have to figure out how to use these two different methods in the future.

“The theme is that we have no theme.”

――Although your relationships with one another didn’t change, your approach to song-making did. Through all of this, you guys have been announcing/releasing singles every month since last March. Was that an intentional decision based on the times we’re in?

Moto Kawabe: It’s something we’d been planning for a while. Seeing the work of artists from both Japan and overseas, we learned that there’s a way to release music like a playlist, rather than being confined to the format of an album. We thought that instead of quickly making an album all at once, we could release a single every month, take those songs and add on some new ones, and turn that into an album. This way, we could take a documentary-like approach, where people could see the process of how we make an album. We’d never done it that way before, so we thought it’d be interesting to try it.

Yojiro: At first, we were talking about how recording at home might be nice. But then, the studio we’d been recording in since our second album [The 2012 release, “eye”] was going to close for good. So we rushed to record “Sleepy,” “Dance,” and “Tonic Love” in February of last year. We decided to release those three songs as singles, one per month. As we were doing that, the state of emergency was declared, so we decided to pivot to make an album instead.

――So with this album, rather than choose a specific theme or direction, you guys just let things happen.

nakayaan: It’s like the theme is that we have no theme. It’s a lineup of songs that were created by focusing on each song, one by one. So maybe this album is more like a collection of short stories.

――There’s indeed quite a diverse lineup of songs. But they have elements in common. For example, the rhythms are more complex than before.

Yojiro: In the past, I used MIDI to make beats, and I thought the sparse beats were very Mitsume. This time, though, I went into the studio by myself and came up with the beats while playing the drums, so they inevitably have a more human feel. I like Afro-funk, and recently, I’ve been putting that on more often when I’m DJing. There are also some songs on the record that were inspired by Tony Allen.

――When the rhythm changes, the bass changes too, right?

nakayaan: Right. There was a lot to think about, but it was rewarding. I thought about what would be interesting to add to the rhythm, how many notes would be necessary to make it cohesive, and calculated all kinds of additions and subtractions. Depending on the song, there were times when I’d use bass to pull the song along.

――”VIDEO” has a funk feel.

nakayaan: It might be a bit like Sly [and the Family Stone].

Yojiro: I’ve always liked Sly and funk, but we hadn’t really explored that ourselves before. Maybe that’s starting to come out naturally when we play.

――I feel like the guitar arrangements have also become a bit more elaborate compared to before. Some songs are distorted too, and the sound is more diverse.

Mao: When we’re in a session working on a song, I tend to improvise on the spot and play the phrases that come to me. But when I’m working at home, I have plenty of time to think, so I start to consciously think about things like, “Let me try playing this chord.” I think I’ve been able to take a new approach.

nakayaan: There are more complicated guitar chords on this record. Ones that you don’t expect to be added.

Moto: The fact that I write songs hasn’t changed, but in the past, when the four of us were playing together, we’d often redo everything except the melody. We’d change all the chords and arrangements. But this time, it was often a process of addition: we each added an approach we liked without changing the progression of the song too much. Each of us would come up with an idea, then the other members would carefully digest that idea, and think, “I’ll add something like this.” I feel like because we did that, the songs became more complex and elaborate.

What do the band members think of “VI”?

――Maybe you could say that the “stay home” period evolved your music. Like [Moto] Kawabe studying song-writing at home, for example.

Moto: I bought a book on music theory and studied it while taking notes. In the past, I used to write songs using my intuition. But with my intuition, I felt like there was a limit to turning my ideas into reality. So I decided to start over from the basics. I think it’s progress that I’ve become able to connect two disparate ideas. The song “Basic,” which I co-wrote with STUTS, is a song that I wouldn’t have been able to make in the past.

――Speaking of which, this is the band’s first collaboration. Why with STUTS?

nakayaan: STUTS and I were classmates in elementary school. We went to separate middle and high schools, but in college, we both found out that the other was into music. Over these past few years, I’ve played bass occasionally for STUTS songs or live shows, and I’ve even had him play at one of my solo shows. This time, when we came up with the idea of releasing a single every month, we started talking about collaborating on a song, and if we were going to do that, we thought STUTS would be a good choice.

Moto: STUTS controls sounds; he has a sort of construction philosophy. I wanted to have him listen to the band’s sound and see how he could build on it.

――Mitsume has a construction philosophy too, doesn’t it?

nakayaan: That might be true, but STUTS’ construction gives all his songs an incredibly open atmosphere, and I think that’s what makes him so great. To use the song “Basic” as an example, it came out feeling like the wind was blowing through it. Compared to STUTS, Mitsume is totally stagnant, so the wind can’t blow through our music.

Moto: Really? (laughs)

――I think the hazy vibe is incredible, wavering between the ordinary and the extraordinary, the dazed and awake.

nakayaan: But I do feel like this album has a clearer sound image than usual. How do I describe it…

Mao: Think of something like your example with the wind earlier. (laughs)

nakayaan: Erm, it’s sort of night-like.

――Speaking of which, the word “night sky” is in the hook of “Fiction.”

Moto: Okay, so let’s call it “night” this time.

nakayaan: An album like the night sky. Somehow, it’s become unusually romantic. (laughs)

Mitsume
Mitsume was formed in Tokyo in 2009. The four-piece band consists of Moto Kawabe (vocals and guitar), Mao Otake (guitar and synth), nakayaan (bass), and Yojiro Suda (drums). Apart from “VI,” the band has released five studio albums. They’ve performed live not only in Japan, but also overseas in China, Korea, the U.S., and Thailand. Although the band is orthodox in composition, the members make music freely without being bound by their respective roles.
https://mitsume.me

■mitsume live Ⅵ
Date: May 30
Venue: LIQUIDROOM
Address: Tokyo Shibuya-ku Higashi 3-16-6
Time: OPEN 18:00 / START 19:00
Admission: ¥4,800

Photography Takuroh Toyama
Translation Aya Apton

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