Whenever one tries to speak definitively about Shuta Hasunuma, it feels as though the attempt will fail. His work transcends genre boundaries, appearing to move effortlessly between pop music, rock, electronica, ambient, sound art, and more. But this agility cannot be captured simply by the word "border-crossing." His work is elusive, seemingly refusing easy categorization or evaluation from the outside, and its contours slip away.
From his early days, I sensed an electronica context in his music. His work as a sound artist, including field recordings and installations at venues as diverse as the Shiseido Gallery in Ginza and temples in Kyoto, also evokes memories. Perhaps because those impressions remain so strong, even when I see him collaborate with rappers, engage in improvisational exchanges with percussionists, or even see him onstage at Fuji Rock, I can't shake the feeling that this is someone with a talent for sound art and environmental music, who has deliberately brought together musicians and, in the process, posed as a performer himself, creating a site-specific performance. What's strange is that this impression hasn't changed in tandem with the expansion of his performance history and activities; rather, it has remained constant. Light and yet always tinged with a sense of outsidership, he seems to exist within the music scene, yet somehow seems to peer from the outside. This mysterious quality continues to fluctuate, mysteriously.
This is the first studio album by the Shuta Hasunuma Team -- consisting of Shuta Ishizuka (guitar), Ryosuke Saito (guitar), itoken (drums), and Yu Ojima (drums). They are core members of the Shuta Hasunuma Philharmonic Orchestra, which has been in existence since 2008, and naturally, they have a wonderful ensemble, highlighting Hasunuma's qualities as a leader. The album features a cover of the classic "Seneca," a song that had a profound impact on Hasunuma in high school, and is mixed by the band's central figure, John McEntire. If you listen to it without any prior knowledge, it is so well-crafted that it would not be surprising if you believed it to be a new Tortoise album.
Let's turn our attention to the recording itself. Each instrument on this album is expertly positioned and simultaneously harmonious. The distorted tone of the guitar strongly emphasizes the rock influence, but at the same time, the element of "space" in Hasunuma's music, the clear recording, and the bright feel are not lost. John McEntire captures these qualities while making full use of his experience freely traversing digital and analog, live and electronic sounds, in the mix. Even the twin drums are musical without being excessive, and the muted guitar arpeggios effectively add depth to the reverberation and texture, while the simple beats are accented with solidity. Hasunuma's vocals and analog synth playing blend seamlessly into the mix, resulting in a masterfully orchestrated and constructed sound that is truly captivating.
Having experienced this album, I began to feel that perhaps my own understanding needed to be revised. Until now, I had associated Hasunuma's music with the essence of Pascal Comrades-esque ambient music. However, what became clear with this album is that, to some extent, Tortoise's genre-crossing nature may have shaped him. And while Hasunuma has been influenced by them up until now, with this album it seems he has made it even clearer that he is "post-Tortoise." Thinking about it this way, the trajectory of his work begins to reconnect with a strangely persuasive force. Just as he had his own "meta-genre approach" to John Zorn and Tortoise, perhaps Hasunuma has his own "meta-genre approach." In other words, this album goes beyond mere homage and seems to serve as a document that confirms Hasunuma's own musical foundations, and in that sense, it truly feels like an epoch-making work.
Jo Onishi
