hamaYôko
SHASO –train window– 12" (E68)
I recognise all countries, eyes closed, by their smell
And I recognise all trains by the noise they make
European trains keep 4/4 time while those of Asia go at 5/4 or 7/4…
— Blaise Cendrars, Prose du Transsibérien, 1913
This is Yôko Higashi’s fourth hamaYôko release.
SHASO was mastered and cut by the inimitable
Rashad Becker at D&M, Berlin.
Many happy returns!
See also hamaYôko and Outposts
First edition of 250 copies
£8.50
On board an Aeroflot flight, Summer 2007.
Photograph by Yôko Higashi
Yôko Higashi’s hamaYôko project is calculated musique
concrète and electroacoustic clutter that defies any easy
categorisation. There’s a kitchen sink approach to sound
sources and recording techniques, often juxtaposing very
clear sounds of mangled voices or sharp, percussive tones
against more distant background mystery. Higashi avoids
easy imagery but occasionally at the expense of coherence.
There are elegant surrealist gestures (as would be expected
from a label called Entr’acte) but other moments that hang
in a tension between exploratory sound construction and
expressiveness. This perhaps achieves pure ‘electroacoustic’
status, feeling equal parts electronic and acoustic. There’s
nothing earthy or organic about the sound sources but
SHASO –train window– is warm and inviting. It’s clear that
her approach is very focused, as these pieces sound like the
product of careful editing rather than accidents and luck —
though I wonder if chance elements might provide a bit
of distinction.
Lynn Sauna at Still Single
—
Recorded in France (Lyon, Ternay), Corsica, and Japan,
the seven tracks composing [this] 12-inch release are a
strange lot indeed. Anything but a minimalist, Higashi
creates dense and oft-woozy collages from a pool of field
recordings and electronic elements. Kaleidoscopic in its
shape-shifting form, the prototypical hamaYôko piece is
a little bit like [The Beatles’] Revolution 9 in its diverse
sound content and unpredictable trajectory. Side one
opens with a psychedelic mélange of electronic tones,
grinding hydraulic noises, and train sounds (Kamakura
Seven); follows it with crashing water sounds, a soft
murmuring voice, and swollen electronic tones (Akai
Pool); radio background material, creaking noises,
and convulsive shards (Small Blue Hand); and finally
guitar fuzz, male vocal meander, and electronic bleeps
(Headeck). Side two’s Porta –for Yokohama citizen– at
times approaches a noise piece when its mix of male
voices, crowd babble, and industrial grinding swells
to its most dense level. The album’s most disturbing
piece is clearly Yuhi ni akago (Infant for Sunset):
adding a baby’s babble to a portentous, even diseased
instrumental arrangement only intensifies the setting’s
nightmarish effect.
Ron Schepper at Textura
—