Futaishitsu Souzou is the first vinyl album released by Japanese duo la scène 裸身, a duo of Saya on vocals and bass, and Eiji on guitar. They’ve been an understated but deeply impressive presence on the Japanese underground for the best part of a decade now, having self-released a debut album, Ten No Sekido, in 2018, which saw them co-producing by Atsuo of Boris, who also worked with them on the following year’s Corridor EP. The mystery and magic of their songs, which vibrate in a curious space between psychedelic rock, acid folk and slowcore, is at its strongest on Futaishitsu Souzou.

la scène 裸身 have long been interested in art that’s stripped back to its simplest, most elemental form, much as their name represents the Japanese word ‘rashin’, which means naked body. There is something unadorned about the three songs on Futaishitsu Souzou; Saya’s becalmed, unhurried vocal delivery reflects the gentle intensity of the simple, gem-like chord changes strewn through songs like “Futaishitsu Souzou” itself, and the bittersweet, folkish lament of “Reiyou”, a song inspired by the loss of the band’s friend, Gazelle.

Futaishitsu Souzou is steeped in melancholy, but it is not resigned to this emotional state; there are threads of rebirth and transcendence woven through the album’s three lovely, slowly enveloping, and deeply moving songs. Often, you can hear that transcendence in the soaring, sky- burning guitar playing that cleaves these songs in twain, from guest guitarist Hiroshi Kurosawa (of Asylum). At times, the music here recalls the drift-like psych-rock of the Paisley Underground; elsewhere, it explodes with vibrant intensity, swarming with noise and feedback, that runs alongside similarly delirious examples from the Japanese underground.

And yet, la scène 裸身 is entirely its own thing, a unique, singular vibration, a oneiric manifestation of hermetic visionary art.