February 3, 2021 - hermine
Japanese folk-artist Ichiko Aoba’s new single ‘Asleep Among Endives’ is a dreamy lullaby that croons and ambles in a low-contrast twilight sojourn through soft moss, moody breezes and organic, gentle colors. The format is very simple, only the strumming of her guitar and the poetry of her soft and airy voice, which casually sings in a way that feels too tender, too intimate, like the song is written for us but we’re not supposed to be listening. The compositional syntax is as complex as the trails and layers of human thought, organically shifting through various moods and tempos as the song progresses like a fresh story. Aoba slides into each note almost lazily, as words spill slowly out of her mouth, reminding me of an old children’s tale where the protagonist’s curse was gems instead of sounds coming out of her lips. The chord structures underneath the vocals support the melody as it flows like a fluid, recalling the freedom of a jazz sensibility that was always copying the freedom of spontaneous human communication and streams of consciousness. Truly night music, ‘Asleep Among Endives’ is built for the indigo soul and the miraculous plants that flourish there. ☔