Joyful Noise Recordings (label)
16 September 2016 (released)
16 September 2016
Seattle born former singer of New York electronic rock outfit Jupiter One, Kauru Ishibashi’s ultra-violins-skills led to touring with Regina Spektor and of Montreal before striking out as ‘Kishi Bashi’.
What is Sonderlust? The third bewitching album from Bashi (following 151a and Lighght) and inspired/derived from the relentless pressures of touring, personal struggles and creative stasis. Let’s look see and listen in. The journey commences …
The rhythmical ‘M’lover’ is a plaint to a.n.other, pleading without pity, the cry for the benefit of both parties. Time waits for no one. ‘Hey Big Star’ is a time-travelling emigre from 1981, ‘New Pop’ in all its sheen and shine: ‘Now Pop 2.0’.
The standout is ‘Say yeah’. Uh oh, someone’s left the presets on again, but, wait, give it a minute. Kishi’s castratones are affectively affected and effortlessly effective enough to warrant (repeated) listening. Uptown Philly meets Studio 54, languid disco grooves and Van McCoy shuffle-hustle with flaunted flute (not a euphemism) to crescendo.
This is the sound of Summer’s dusk, a time of wistful recollection, the long days and longer nights fading in the distance, the leaves falling one by one like the seconds on your watch. KB cries ‘One last chance with each other’. I’m saying ‘Yeah’!
Strings sweep, heartstrings weep on ‘Can’t let go, Juno’, an electro-pulsating beat signifying those aortic butterflies, the uncontrollable murmur that betrays thoughts. Transcenmental mania abides in ‘Ode to my next life’ a future-topian cacophonic floor-filler. ‘Who’d you kill?’ sees Bashi’s vox plunge to Dante’s synthferno, all languid piano and slinky sci-fi sounds. Smooth and sultry.
More inner-inquisition permeates ‘Why don’t you answer me?’ which again sees the vocal delivery alter(nate), all levels of emotion are evident, insecurity and inhibitions rage within a neo-classical framework of sonarcolepsy. This diverse album ends on the epoch-a-lypso of ‘Honeybody, catharsis and regeneration complete.
Whomever is the object d’isaffection here is left in no uncertain terms of how the feelings remain, Seattle show ‘em.
A superlative sonic love letter to one’s self, an autobiographical-healing RSVP. Put pen to paper and sign up. Disco-yes.
