Boomkat Product Review:
A major wash of out-zone goop from Japanese sound artist and pump organ builder Yosuke Fujita, "Noiseem" loops his well-worn organ moans and water experiments into the textural domain of musique concréte and early electronics. Properly submerged material: like Kali Malone or Tomoko Sauvage doused in processes inspired by Canadian pioneer Hugh Le Caine or Tangerine Dream's Edgar Froese.
Fujita has been fixated on water's primal artistic potential for years, using amplified water tanks to infuse bubbling, washing textures into his modified organ drones. 'Noiseem' is assembled from ambitious live performances in Tokyo and London, and showcases Fujita's aqueous obsession in microscopic detail. While many of his previous full-lengths have centered the pipe organ, here it's water that drives the album's pulse. Split into two extended compositions, 'Noiseem' begins with 'AWA' as tiny bubbles fizz into boiling steam while synthetic detritus transports our mind into the Radiophonic era. The bubbling rattle is familiar - but repurposed by Fujita it takes on new life; it's honestly surprising how rarely we hear these sounds reproduced in experimental music.
When the bubbling dissipates and cavernous, echoing drips subside, it's only crunchy white noise that remains while Fujita's signature fluttering drones take over. Time stops for a moment, giving us a chance to listen deeply to the humanistic pitch fluctuations before the water tank makes itself known once again. It's is a piece of music that forces us to consider a natural world far from zeroes and ones: we're confronted with air that breathes into a pipe organ and flowing water that fuels our body and surrounds us. Later, on 'UZU', the fragile humanity of these dual ingredients is made even more explicit when Fujita adds eerie, wordless vocals.
This time, as the performance evaporates from bubbling liquid into gaseous clouds, a rubbery voicebox wail is introduced. Organ tones join gracefully, before Fujita's unprocessed voice drips staccato notes on top. It's deceptively simple music that feels joyful without lapsing into Hallmark territory or falling into new-age spike traps. There's the timeless, sacred quality of Ellen Arkbro or Kali Malone's long-form organ work, but it's offset by Fujita's juxtaposition of sounds and his fascination with water in whatever form. Fans of Edgar Froese's liquid solo debut "Aqua" or Hugh Le Caine's mind-bending 50s synth masterpiece "Dripsody" should grab this without delay.