Japanese guitarist Hisato Higuchi sits bent over his electric guitar, murmuring the same brief, wordless anecdote to it in a voice that is more breath than articulation. This is secret, blue jazz, spectral “scattered scenes” from a room – the acoustics of which fill the third seat in this trio setting.
The titles often take longer to pronouce than each of the thirteen the tracks last, and both they and the pauses between them seem arbitrary; Bara Bara Na Bamen is all of a half-hour piece. Each note is examined gingerly, the fretboard squeezed with affection, notes bent in a gentle ecstacy, resonating from the big (chambered?) body of the instrument.
In an overlit world, one is almost taken aback, embarrassed by such dusky intimacy. It is appropriate that Higuchi is a former puppeteer, because he is tugging at my heartstrings.
Stephen Fruitman
