Michio Kurihara - "Sunset Notes"

Michio Kurihara - Pendulum on a G-String: The Last Cicada (20-20-20 2007, Pedal 2005)

Michio Kurihara – Sunset Notes / 20-20-20, originally Pedal 2005

Let’s all face it, Boris with Michio Kurihara’s Rainbow is a phenomenal record that will be making a hell of an argument come December when those omniscient year-end lists start stirring. Not only did it prove how multi-dimensional ear-damaging Japanese trio Boris truly is as they seemingly reach their full potential, but also acted as an American coming out party for guitarist Michio Kurihara, who blew our collective minds with each sun-drenched, patiently powerful solo. I say “American coming out party” though because he actually released a solo album in Japan back in 2005, which truly displayed the subdued virtuosity hidden behind Masaki Batoh in the folksy psych-rock outfit Ghost. Sunset Notes proved Kurihara had come into his own a year prior to the first official Rainbow release, and (probably) thanks to the latter’s immediate success, we behind-the-curve Americans are finally getting our first taste of his blossoming as a solo artist.

I actually feel bad saying that it took till 2005 for Kurihara to truly emerge as a force all his own, because he has been proving his talented musicianship for nearly twenty years now. Raised on classical music, the Tokyo-born guitarist caught his first break when he was invited in 1986 by his soon-to-be-long-time collaborator You Ishihara to join White Heaven, one of Japan’s most highly revered psychedelic rock bands who were instrumental in reviving that scene in the late 80s. Establishing a penchant for wailing riffs and crunchy lyricism, Kurihara spent five years learning the ropes and unconsciously gearing up for his next highly regarded band Ghost. Headed by one of Japans most talented guitarists, Masaki Batoh, Kurihara first collaborated with the psyche-rock commune in 1991 before officially becoming a member three years later where he remains today. In 1999, he also hooked back up with his former White Heaven bandmates Ishihara and Chiyo Kamekawa to form a sort of second-wave Japanese-psyche super-group in The Stars which took on a protean metal-blues sound taking a page from Led Zeppelin and then writing a multi-genre opus around it. So after nearly twenty years of kicking around Japan’s most talked-about psyche-rock outfits, Kurihara finally took a step in the one direction he had somehow failed to attempt all this time: a solo career.

I think the most appealing and respectful characteristic of Sunset Notes is how restrained it feels. Don’t get me wrong though, there are moments when the wailing, soaring guitar virtuosity in all its feedbacking glory cannot be denied, but we have heard all of that from Kurihara before. The most telling aspect of this solo album his how he can strip down those moments to their bare essentials and conjure emotions with his lyrical guitar lines that never once step into over-indulgence or gimmickry. Absolutely every note sounds agonized over so that there is not one sliver of fat on this lean, hearty specimen of a guitar album.

While the concept of the record is rather loose and very impressionistic, it is telling of the many shades of color utilized in these nine songs. Drawing inspiration from nine different sunsets on periodic points of the calendar, Kurihara, with the help of Ishihara, Ichiro Shibata and White Heaven’s Soichirou Nakamura, conjures nine diverse audible replications of these majestic displays of nature with precise execution and gorgeous arrangements. While the album gracefully hits both sides of the dynamic spectrum, when he marries the two is when Sunset Notes really excels. “Pendulum on a G-String: The Last Cicada” has got to be the centerpiece; with Kurihara managing all three layers of the electric guitar cascade and accompanied only by an almost Brazilian triangle beat, the song absolutely does justice to the multi-hued fall sunset it sets out to mimic. With varying levels of feedback, each guitar line weaves in and out of the others never overlapping frequencies but certainly intertwining them. “A Boat of Courage” is along the same lines, but with a much more slowly developing and melodramatic climax. Like its inspiring June sunset, the atmosphere is a bit warmer, the colors are a bit more subdued and an overall sense of relief is undeniable as it closes out the album.

Don’t fret too much though if you more of a fan of Kurihara’s noisy side, “Canon in ‘C’ (C is for Cicada)” is two minutes of Branca-like all-encompassing feedback and “Twilight Mystery of a Russian Cowboy” soars along with a firebird of a guitar sound and a romping, stomping beat. And on the complete opposite side of things, Pedal’s female pop star, Ai Aso, provides her hushed female coo to two numbers. “Wind Waltzes” breezes on a simple synth skip and delicate brushes of Kurihara’s guitar, while “The Wind’s Twelve Quarters” is a bit more slow-burning with meandering electric guitar strums and organ flourishes (honestly, it reminds me of Broadcast without the blips and bloops).

As you can see, Sunset Notes is an album in the best definition possible: it is a multi-dimensional collection of songs that remains cohesive and tells a story without ever re-treading territory. Kurihara’s guitar work is less mind-blowing virtuosity and more consciously and deceptively simple framework that undeniably proves his talent as a songwriter. If mind-bending is what you are out for, head straight for Rainbow, but if it’s something more laidback and intimate you’re craving, look no further than Sunset Notes.