Yama Warashi – Crispy Moon

PRAH

The fourth moon-related release from Yama Warashi finds Yoshino Shigihara‘s band shifting to the Moshi Moshi offshoot PRAH and further stretching their legs with a unique distillation of gently fuzzy psych and that dreamy Japanese vocalising that gives them such an exotic appeal.

Over eight lengthy and quixotic tracks, the album leads the listener through gentle foothills and mountain glades to more extreme terrain, switchback paths and steep descents that leaves the listener second guessing when least expected.

Album opener “Makkuroi Mizu” immediately transports you with Yoshino’s voice a lulling reverie that intones against gently revolving tones before Lewis Fitzjohn‘s bubbling, rubbery bass breezes in with the synths giving a hint of Eastern promise. There is an unexpected reggae groove to this one, which is at odds with the shuffling offset of “Dividual Individual”. Here the words are in English, but still affect you in a strange way. A cute keyboard line runs over Dan Truen‘s thoughtful beat and it moves in waves with a lovely holiday section, the sea breeze finding the band itching to mix things up.

A sax pokes about at the edges of the funhouse ride in “Saku Saku” and the listener starts to realise that this is one of those bands where no matter how hard they try, just when they think they have them pegged, off they toddle down some previously unseen rabbit hole; they seem to escape like a kite in the wind. The extra vocals brought in towards the euphoric conclusion of the track sets the slow, hazy lullaby “Umi No Mon” in greater contrast; the sax is marshmallow soft and the bass a bright-eyed jogger that hits a motorik groove and reveals a certain ’70s insouciance. It is a real treat for the hypno lovers.

We have waltz time in “Haha No Uta”, with Agathe Max‘s gently unfurling violin lending a folky feel, the multi-tracked vocal picking its way through the silken landscape, while “Dou Dou Meguri” is an almost glammy stomp. As the album winds down, the percussion becomes a lulling draw, always urging the listener to move their hips; but in a sleepy, half-handed way, though spikes of Conrad Singh‘s guitar and touches of skronky wonkiness work a little at the ever elastic bass.

The group pursues an idiosyncratic vision that hints at various influences, but these are kind of lost in the rich recipe and they end up sounding like nobody but themselves, with the rubbery bass, pitter-patter of percussion, a few little studio tricks, Yoshino’s voice and guitar surprises abounding. The addition of several guests adding their personal touches only lends further subtle flavours; and overall, Crispy Moon is a real dreamy winner.

-Mr Olivetti-