Playing at an eighth-century Shinto shrine in Kyoto, the musicians, led by Yuuji Hiromoto, first eye each other inquisitively, violin, muted trumpet, electronics, tabla, as kids with restless legs run up and down a path through the audience.
A genuinely startling performance which grows from ambient meditation into electrifying jazz-funk. Playing at an eighth-century Shinto shrine in Kyoto, the musicians, led by Yuuji Hiromoto, first eye each other inquisitively, violin, muted trumpet, electronics, tabla, as kids with restless legs run up and down a path through the audience. The trumpet, played by Covo, hangs arabesques in the air, and just when it couldn’t sound more like Jon Hassell, gets dubbed out live by KND, who mans all the electronics.
Percussion instruments representing three great cultures—Indian, Arab and machine—telegraph messages to one another and cues to the rest of the band. Bass wells up before Bun Ito, self-looping Warr guitar virtuoso, beseeches. It’s entrancing yet quiet enough to still hear the kids at play—unless those are judiciously placed field recordings.
The first section culminates with a courtly ease that carries over into the next, with the majestic violin and trumpet set aswirl in KND´s primordial electronic soup, into which Ito also jumps. A brief drum circle convened around Satoshi Kamise on the darbouka busts open the third and final section. Ito looses the guitar genie from its bottled neck and Covo his inner Miles Davis.
Covo’s trumpet might be considered the dominant presence throughout but over the course of this magical forty minutes, everyone in this strange nine-man orchestra absolutely shines, not by stepping forward to solo but by meshing so seamlessly. aMadoo wanders in like a barefoot hippie girl braiding wildflowers and sashays out of the joint in high heels and a sweetheart cocktail dress.
Matsunoo Grand Shrine is available on Somehow. [Shop]
