Joe Takayuki’s No. 9 project is a collection of whimsical childhood
ephemera, haphazard drums programmed with mathematical precision and
drifting free jazz hooks. The combination of these elements makes
Mushi-No-Ne a fascinating whirlwind of playful innocence and practical
experience somewhat akin to watching a roomful of reincarnated jazz
legends rediscover their inherent musical skills before learning to
walk and talk.
Takayuki brings a breakbeat cadence to late-night lounge jazz — a
shuffling twitch to the rhythm section that somehow manages to anchor
the slices of melody and voices that he layers on top like a mad
master confectioner. “BUG BEATS” rings with bells and a reedy organ
while a field of insects quietly hum in the background. The double
bass stalks the stage slowly while the drum kit rattles with a Buddy
Rich-ian fervor. An electronic squelch that sounds like a dog’s
squeeze toy being liberally palpated into a microphone takes up the
rhythmic challenge laid down by the drum kit and the pair duet across
the twilight lake of insects and wheezing organ. Birds chirp behind a
skipping wood block in “ECO EGO” while a robust organ melody and a
mournful clarinet fill the room, trying to obscure a pattern of
electronic detritus that skitters about underfoot. “Drizzle” pings
with a dripping melody while the rhythm section attaches an uptempo
loop to the echoing refrain.
There’s a spy movie vibe to “Survive,” a driven alto saxophone melody
that is pursued by the energetic drum programming as the rhythm
section plays heavies to the saxophone’s heroic theme music. “For
Sister” works with church bells, the thick static of a decrepit slab
of vinyl, handclaps and a flamenco guitar melody to hurl you into the
sun-drenched Spanish countryside. The seventeen minute title piece
dashes across the road and loses itself in a field recording while a
van full of electronic equipment drives up and down the asphalt,
pinging the wooded landscape for life readings in a kaleidoscopic buzz
of oscilloscopes, radio transceivers and noisy computer tape drives.
It’s music for headphones, a personal transmission of the collision
between the electronic and the natural, matching the rhythms and the
random noises of electrons and insects in a micro pastoral symphony.
Takayuki’s work as No. 9 transcends itself: it’s an extended
collaboration between the natural world, the rhythmic intensive realm
of free jazz and the mercurial lounge texture of downtempo music —
all accomplished by the ten fingers of one man. Mushi-No-Ne is the
rhythm of quicksilver, the alien movement of complex molecules
enacting a microscopic dance of cohesive randomness. Whimsical in its
child-like disregard for the tropes of historical jazz structures and
in its effective use of field recordings, Mushi-No-Ne beguiles and
mystifies.
Mushi-No-Ne is out now on Locust Music.
