Oval might have created the template for glitch music, but Nobukazu Takemura gave it soul. Beginning in a surprisingly quiet manner with “On a Balloon” it builds up. Stopping for field recordings, it breathes more life into the environment. And despite its very obvious digital origins, there’s a large amount of warmth within these sounds. Somehow Nobukazu avoids the usual glitch obsession with technical detail to come up with something that has emotional resonance as well.
“Kepler” is a bit easier to get into. Using more human sounds, it has a familiar feel to it, like a warm blanket of sound keeping you snug in the winter. “Taw” does the opposite; it is extremely cold and nearly devoid of life, with large pauses of silent to heighten tension. This is as difficult as the album gets.
None of these track compare with the track “Icefall”. Every so often you’ll be listening to an album, sort of into it, and a song comes up. This song makes you re-evaluate everything you just heard. Consider it a “Rosetta Stone” for the artist’s intention. “Icefall” is such a track. Whenever I’m feeling down or blue, this always manages to cheer me up. Words fail me with this; it flutters about like a butterfly. Listening to it, it makes me think about what would happen if a computer wrote a love song.
Honestly, what I can tell you about this album is have patience. If you’ve had previous exposure to glitch, that would help. But if you’re worried, I’d suggest listening to “Icefall” first and then deciding whether or not to give the rest a go. Obviously I’d strongly suggest this to just about anyone.