This is Sinsuke Fujieda´s third release as Sound Furniture. His first was the tiny, perfect snowflake of virginsnow, a very brief CD of lyrical thinking music that slips through the air like wisps of drifting flurries.
Tonerium is a more luscious ambient, one that turns rich sounds very slowly around, like globs of wax in a lava lamp. A lute plays while lapped at by the lip of the ocean as a bagpipe skirls, before fanning out like peacock feathers, reflecting rainbows deep into our eyes. Chirp chirp chirp say the birds against a wind chime as big as a Shinto temple. To keep the birds company, a tenor saxophone alights. Sound Furniture also plays reeds, you see – sweet, raspy hues adding more texture to synthetic wash.
Tonerium bears certain family resemblances to some of the work of ambient godfather Brian Eno, but where Eno shines by conjuring disembodiment, Sonic Furniture makes a far more physical statement – he is breathy and flexes tensile muscliness. His harp resonates, tipped with flute. Tonerium is a room filled with ideas that transports the listener from thought to being.