July 8, 2022 - hermine
Japanese folk-artist Ichiko Aoba’s soundtrack for the 2022 film Amiko is a minimalist manifestation of the joys and pains of childhood, where you, a child, feel infinitely in all directions but are always told you feel less than adults with more experience.
To me who listens without having seen the film, this collection of short impressions string together like precious jewelry, of rainbow pearls, every one reflecting back its own light, beautiful apart, magnificent together, an opalescent feast of color asking a constant question of the eyes (or, in this case, ears).
Aoba distills the message of each track down into a limited palette of instrumentation—some speak only in playful piano, others only in clarinet, others in ringing wine glasses, others focus on the singing voice, and still others seem to explore the number of staccato sounds you can communicate with using only a guitar and its strings.
Most of these tracks are clearly atmospheric storytelling devices, short in length, meant to underscore imagery, such as the earthy resonance of ‘mushrooms, flowers, roly polys’, and the post-rock post-script ‘skipping, stomping, sour, sour.’ A few are feature-length, with singing and a full accompaniment, such as the sailing song nursery rhyme ‘there’s no such thing as a ghost’ and the bittersweet quagmire-of-a-closing-track ‘Hello’ (the indicator that your time spent watching the film will end in uncontrollable sobs).
With a perspective of childlike wonder, Aoba doesn’t see limitations in the instruments she plays. She instead explores all the edges of the sounds each instrument can make—take the guitar for instance, how scratching the string can sound like a cooing bird, or how you can strum to chime like a lullaby.
Another triumphant fusion of post-rock, jazz, and Japanese folk, plus a perspective of childlike wonder, Amiko (Original Soundtrack) showcases Ichiko Aoba’s strengths—freedom of communication in the musical realm, fluid movement between musical mode, and an endless emotional empathy that’s hyper-human. ☔