Saturday 17 June 2017

Symbol of life, love and aesthetics. A tribute to the music of Susumu Yokota (1961 - 2015)

Susumu Yokota was a multi-talented Japanese electronic musician who released a series of influential albums from 1993 - 2012. He died in 2015. After coming across Susumu Yokota's music through a chance internet recommendation earlier this year, I found myself strangely compelled to track down the majority of his releases (at least those produced under his own name), and here we are.
For most Western listeners, the standard gateway to Susumu Yokota's discography is Sakura, released in 1999 to a fair amount of critical acclaim in the North American and European music press. Sakura is a lush and mesmerising album, combining ambient soundscapes, samples, house-beats and occasional jazz to wonderful effect. This is an album of subtleties that rewards repeated listening (headphones are recommended), but there are obvious highlights as well, including the haunting 'Kodomotachi' (children), which samples Joni Mitchell's 'Songs To Aging Children Come' (1969).


As good as Sakura is, it would be a mistake to confine oneself to this record alone. For many, the next logical stopping off points are Sakura's follow-up releases, 2001's Grinning Cat, and 2002's The Boy And The Tree. While both these albums undeniably feature moments of creative beauty, most notably 'Lapis Lazuli' and 'Secret Garden' respectively, I missed the same connection that came so easily with Sakura, and found these two to be largely disappointing. In the context of Yokota's full discography, for me the obvious successors to Sakura are 2003's Laputa, and 2010's Kaleidoscope. These albums are two of Susumu's strongest electronic-ambient releases, and both demand to be listened to in their entirety. In this respect it is harder to list highlights for these records. From Laputa, I found 'Degrees Dream' to be particularly affecting - a lazy, floating track that almost sends me into a day dream when I hear it. Likewise, Kaleidoscope's 'Blue Moon' successfully melds eastern instruments and chanting with western bells and choir in another dreamlike transcultural odyssey - a soundscape that re-appears more prominently on Susumu's last record, Dreamer.


An obvious facet of Susumu Yokota's discography is its impressive breadth and diversity of musical styles. The first group of albums worth mentioning consist of his pre-Sakura electronic releases, including his 1993 trancy debut The Frankfurt-Tokyo Connection, 1994's Acid-house Acid Mt. Fuji, and my personal favourite, 1997's Mouse On Mars-like Cat, Mouse And Me. While lacking the depth of his later releases, these albums certainly don't lack for charm, and more than hint at some of the further riches to come. All three clock in at over 70 minutes, and therefore involve a considerable investment of time. I found the initially beguiling Acid Mt. Fuji to test my patience the most as the least varied of the three, whereas Cat, Mouse And Me features many delightful changes of direction - highlight 'Wait For A Day', 'Cat, Mouse And Me' and 'Dodo' all had me clamouring for multiple repeated listens. Alongside these early releases it is also worth mentioning the excellent Image 1982 - 1998 compilation, which is half low-key guitar instrumentals from the 1980s, and half Sakura-style electronic ambient pieces from the 1990s. On the other hand, Magic Thread (1998) is a minimalist ambient affair that is largely forgettable, aside from the odd interesting moment.


Susumu's work diversifies again into the 2000s and beyond. Perhaps the best release from this era, and rival for Sakura's crown as the finest Susumu Yokota album, is 2005's Symbol. Symbol is a bold departure from previous releases, and in essence is a skillful mash-up of various Western Classical music pieces stitched together with more than a veneer of Susumu's deft collage of beats and samples. The end result is quite simply gorgeous, and is likely to appeal to listeners put off by his more abstract electronic releases. The more accessible approach of Symbol is taken to another level on 2007's Love Or Die, which is probably Yokota's most commercial sounding album, melding some strong piano-driven tracks with Susumu's signature electronica. Commercial shouldn't be taken as a criticism here - there are more moments of beauty and stand-out tracks than in any of his other releases, but paradoxically at the same time it feels just a little too structured, produced and choreographed.


Another predilection in Susumu Yokota's work is his liking for ethereal and folksy female vocals. This is the emphasis for another couple of albums, 2006's Wonder Waltz, and 2009's Mother, which each make use of a number of guest vocalists. While neither of these records are particularly consistent by Yokota's usual standards, each one features stunning stand-out tracks, from the lullaby-like 'Don't Go Sleep' on Wonder Waltz to the piercing Nancy Elizabeth vocals on 'A Flower White', the enchanting 'Meltwater' and mournful '12 Days 12 Nights', all on Mother. Mother is certainly the stronger of the two, and like many of Susumu Yokota's later releases has perhaps been unfairly overlooked in the Western music press.


Susumu Yokota's last studio album is 2012's Dreamer. This album and its cover are steeped in Asian mysticism, and the music is testament to Susumu's evident interests in fusing elements of Western and Eastern music, as well as styles and sounds from across his career. This album sadly received little fanfare in Europe and North America, and reviews are hard to come by on the web. Dreamer is a challenging but rewarding album, epitomised by the jarring but alluring second track 'Flitting Ray'. The album also features two stomping housey tracks, 'Inception' and 'Animiam Of The Airy', which are surely a nod to Susumu's pre-Sakura days, and bring a necessary change of pace and and urgency missing from much of Yokota's earlier work. The end result is an impressive, albeit idiosyncratic monument to Susumu Yokota's fundamentally innovative and affecting musical career.


Aside from a few promotional photographs, it is difficult to get much sense of the man behind the music. The 2016 re-release of 1994's Acid Mt. Fuji paints a picture of Susumu as a mysterious, almost romantic figure, a lone artist who seldom gave media interviews, and was prevented from giving regular live performances by an ongoing state of poor health. This picture of the introspective artist is heightened in particular the sleeve notes from the Image 1982 - 1998 compilation, which features a list of paintings, collages and photos produced by Susumu in 1987-8 (including the cover art for 2007's Love Or Die album - shown above), in addition to a short essay by Susumu about the tracks on the album. It seems fitting to end this tribute with a quote from this essay, as Susumu describes 'Kona' as a theme influencing his very earliest music:

Kona is a Japanese word for powder - an assemblage of white grains. I wished to be Kona. I wished to be Kona at the moment of death. Things I wanted to do were becoming very clear because of this wish. Sugar, stevia, some chemical drugs, and ceramics are a gathering of super-particles. Accumulate some white Kona and blow on them. They will scatter can never be replaced exactly in their original form. Like the vagueness of memories. Bones of the dead are shattered like Kona and sprinkled over the homeland. Children can fly in the sky when sprinkled with Angel's Kona.