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During the 1990s Shizuka self-released a series of four cassettes, barely heard by anyone outside of their inner circle. Culling together live recordings and home demos, these served as companions to the scant amount of proper Shizuka releases at the time (including the recently reissued Heavenly Persona). Concentric Circles is proud to present the third and most anomalous cassette from Shizuka, simply titled III, on vinyl for the first time in an edition of 500 copies. Formed by guitarist and singer Shizuka Miura, alongside husband Maki Miura, who’d previously played with both Les Rallizes Dénudés and Fushitsusha, the group known as Shizuka started in the early 90s with Jun Kosugi (also of Fushitsusha) on drums, and a revolving cast of bass players, including J.J. Junko, whose sole recorded appearance with the band is here on III. Devoid of any of their trademark noise and bombast, III feel distinct from their studio and live albums of the era, largely due to its fragility; haunted and spare, the songs revolve around Shizuka Miura’s gentle, unforced sighs, and Maki’s flickering, flinty guitar. The first side of the album features four songs – “For You,” “Lunatic Pearl,” “The Night When The Door Opens” and “To The Sky” – which will be well-known to Shizuka fans from previous recordings, but the drastically understated renditions here are particularly moving for their quietude and intimacy. The second half of III consists of a side-long duo session, just Shizuka and Maki Miura together at home, circling around the simplest two-chord motif for twenty minutes, Shizuka singing the most heavenly melody, strung through the sky of this lengthy improvisation. It’s an astonishingly beautiful performance, one that stills time through its becalmed repetition, pointing towards the endless forever. In this respect, it feels like an ultimate extension of Opal’s early recordings, Big Star’s 3rd or even Galaxie 500’s quietest moments. III lifts the darkness away, allowing for a softer, more gentle Shizuka to shine through, bringing with it a side to the band that most never knew existed. A lovely discovery if there ever was one.

Following the long-awaited Paradise Of Delusion LP from 2021, An’archives announces Lunatic Pearl, a 10” EP by Japanese psych-pop legends Shizuka. As with the material on Paradise, 狂気の真珠 Lunatic Pearl draws from the deep well of music the quartet recorded in 2001, this time from two studio sessions. Here, though, the group’s classic line-up of Shizuka, Maki Miura, Jun Kosugi and Seven is augmented – on the a-side, they’re joined by Yasushi Nagata on guitar; flip the record, and Kazuhide Yamaji chimes in on acoustic guitar and bass.

Both Nagata and Yamaji were members of long-running Tokyo psych-out gang Dip (also known as dip the flag); Yamaji eventually joined Shizuka for a time, appearing with them on the 2010 DVD, Owari No Nai Yume, released by PSF. Part of Lunatic Pearl finds Shizuka in Paisley Underground mode, the spaced-out acoustic mantras of “Shiroi Inochi” and the instrumental “The Street The Fairy Goes” surprisingly reminiscent of the smeared, slow-motion psychedelics of Opal’s early EPs. The latter, a weightless blur, hovers in the air on dreamy drifts of DX-7, drifting melodies landing on the track like an astral traveller, lost and delirious.

“Lunatic Pearl” itself is a monster, one of Shizuka’s most rock-reverent moments, its bold riff soaring over a rhythm section that thuds menacingly, as though they’re the kings of the rumbling spires. “Signs”, another track from the Studio EUN session, features some gloriously unhinged playing from Miura, as though he’s tearing the song’s seams apart, as the group push Shizuka’s simple, perfect song into the stratosphere. Brief yet perfectly formed, Lunatic Pearl is another gorgeous entry in the Shizuka discography.

Michiko Ogawa's Pancake Moon drifts between darkness and light, weaving sho, piano, and synthesizers into a soundworld where memory, loss, and rebirth dissolve into one another.

An’archives present the debut album by Tokyo avant-pop duo Jyuriaano, Dreaming Glass. Consisting of Morimoto Ariomi and Cobalt, the two members of Jyuriaano have long histories in Japanese underground music. Morimoto’s history traces back to the late nineties; his nascent interests in noise collage and solo acoustic performance slowly transmuted to group endeavours, and more recently he’s performed with the likes of Akiko Toshimitsu (Usurabi), Maki Miura (Shizuka) and Doronco (Los Doroncos).

Cobalt has released a string of excellent singer-songwriter albums, many on his Poet Portraits label, which has also released material by the likes of Kazumi Nikaido, Place Called Space, Cuthberts, and moools, the latter of which he also performs with on occasion. While Morimoto and Cobalt have known each other for decades, they decided to form Jyuriaano in 2016, and since then have performed at live houses and small bars in Japan, all while slowly working together on their gentle, spirited songs.

The group’s formation story is typically playful – “It all started when we brought an acoustic guitar into the car on a rainy afternoon and started writing songs while eating Japanese sweets,” Cobalt recalls. That sense of play is important to the songs on Dreaming Glass, which vary wildly, from bright, infectious pop songs with a sixties lilt (“Dreaming Baby”, “How Close”), through slinky jazz-pop numbers (“Drawing A Nude”) to melancholy folk laments (“Erica”, “Night Window”). There’s something in Jyuriaano’s collaborative dynamic that gifts Morimoto and Cobalt a particularly open field, when it comes to their creative endeavours.

Some of this might also be down to their listening habits. When asked about their interest in Japanese folk precursors, legendary groups like Folk Crusaders and Itsutsu-no-Akai-Fusen, Cobalt agrees that they have a place in the duo’s listening pantheon, but that’s not where the story ends. “We’ve also listened to commercial folk music outside of those core genres,” he reflects, “We don’t just listen to one genre, but also rock and roll, noise industrial, punk, new wave, jazz, chanson, and more.”

You might also hear touches of groups like the forementioned Usurabi, or Maher Shalal Hash Baz, or songwriters like Kazumi Nikaido and Shintaro Sakamoto. But Jyuriaano’s songs, somehow, feel quite sui generis in the way they magic up alternative visions for pop’s possibilities. Dreaming Glass is, quite simply, a lovely, unpretentious joy of an album.

Cardinal Fuzz and Feeding Tube Records are proud to present to you the 2nd LP from TOMOYUKI TRIO (Tomoyuki Aoki, Mike Vest & Dave Sneddon) following their debut LP ‘Mars’ on the esteemed Riot Season Record Label. Tomoyuki Aoki is the founding member and lead guitarist of the legendary Tokyo Psych Monsters UP-TIGHT. Of all the Japanese psych-rock groups that emerged in the late nineties and early noughties, Up-Tight are the most reverent, the most directly plugged into the source, from their name (Velvet Underground) with knowing referential song titles like “Sweet Sister” to their extended heavy, dark black clad acid fried one chord psych melters -- we're talking bands like Fushitsusha, White Heaven, Kousokuya, Shizuka, and the grandaddies of 'em all, the deservedly-legendary, Les Rallizes Denudes. Shitsuren If anything has got an even heavier, dronier edge than what we heard on the last one. Super fuzzed guitars, sad ballads, grinding distorto epics and numbed, narcotic rhythms. This is one to play at maximum volume so that you can soak up its molten magik as over 2 sides of Shitsuren’s grueling guitar hypnotics you uncover the darker side of the ensembles personality to find them digging deep to drag the audience with them into the shadows of stoner psyche. If you can picture Okhami No Jikan, Asahito Nanjo. Musica Transonic & Toho Sara then you’re close to the outrageous levels of psychedelic excess captured here, a riotous concoction of ferociously brooding, locked down heavy bearing intensity of fierce/brutal speaker battering in the red levels.

Je prie pour que la goutte ne tombe pas" (I pray that the drop does not fall) is the first international release by Japanese trio Chi To Shizuku. While they have released five albums and a 7” in Japan, their spectral, haunted rock songs haven’t yet reached a much wider audience overseas. With this album, then, a live recording taken at Koenji HIGH, Suginami, Tokyo on 23rd November 2021, the unique, quartz-like character of Chi To Shizuku’s music is writ large, the bleak bliss of their songs carved onto twelve-inch vinyl.

Perhaps the best-known member of Chi To Shizuku, at least for audiences with an ear turned to Japanese psychedelia, is drummer Takahashi Ikuro, known for his membership of almost every group worth a damn from that scene – Fushitsusha, Nagisa Ni Te, Ché-SHIZU, Kousokuya, High Rise, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, LSD March, the list goes on. But the core of Chi To Shizuku’s music is the collaboration between vocalist, bassist and lyricist Morikawa Seiichirou, and guitarist and arranger Yamagiwa Hideki. Morikawa is a member of long- running punk/goth group Z.O.A., and has also played with YBO2, Zzzoo, and as collaborator with Takeshi and Atsuo of Boris in A/N; he’s also recently been performing with Mitsuru Tabata. Yamagiwa’s history takes in stints with Katsurei and Cock C’ Nell, and he also recently guested with la scene 裸身.

All this contextual information does relatively little, though, to prepare you for the unique vibration of Chi To Shizuku’s lustrous songs. They shimmer in the same half-light, perhaps, as Shizuka and the quieter moments of LSD March, sharing a similar poise and classicism, and there’s a tenderness and wracked poetry to Morikawa’s voice that reminds of the emotional intensities both of traditional Japanese folk, and of British folk music: on “Musuu No Nemuri No Naka De Kumo Wo Tukamu”, the combination of his singing, backed with gorgeously plangent guitar, reminds of no-one so much as it does The Pentangle or Spriguns Of Tolgus. Chi To Shizuku’s love for the ballad as form gifts their music an archaic, sometimes arcane resonance, and from what you can hear on this album, it’s clear they’re in love with graceful melancholy.

But this is not a folk album, by any means; it just shivers with the same eternal spirit. There are also hints of prog rock, and you can catch some passages of scratchy, distended free rock, on the extended spirit invocation of “Nanhito Hanhito”. je prie pour que la goutte ne tombe pas is an extraordinary album, a melancholy surprise, that reminds dedicated listeners of the seemingly bottomless well of great music to be found via the Japanese underground in its many forms. Perhaps Michel Henritzi says it best, though, in his liner notes, when he writes, “Chi To Shizuku’s music reminds us that our life is a dream that lasts only a season, and that oblivion will follow.”

Morikawa Seiichirou, vocals, bass
Yamagiwa Hideki, electric & classical guitar
Takahashi Ikuro, drums & percussion

je prie pour que la goutte ne tombe pas
(I pray that the drop does not fall) is the first international release by Japanese trio Chi To Shizuku. While they have released five albums and a 7” in Japan, their spectral, haunted rock songs haven’t yet reached a much wider audience overseas. With this album, then, a live recording taken at Koenji HIGH, Suginami, Tokyo on 23rd November 2021, the unique, quartz-like character of Chi To Shizuku’s music is writ large, the bleak bliss of their songs carved onto twelve-inch vinyl.
Perhaps the best-known member of Chi To Shizuku, at least for audiences with an ear turned to Japanese psychedelia, is drummer Takahashi Ikuro, known for his membership of almost every group worth a damn from that scene – Fushitsusha, Nagisa Ni Te, Ché-SHIZU, Kousokuya, High Rise, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, LSD March, the list goes on. But the core of Chi To Shizuku’s music is the collaboration between vocalist, bassist and lyricist Morikawa Seiichirou, and guitarist and arranger Yamagiwa Hideki. Morikawa is a member of long-running punk/goth group Z.O.A., and has also played with YBO , Zzzoo, and as collaborator with Takeshi and Atsuo of Boris in A/N; he’s also recently been performing with Mitsuru Tabata. Yamagiwa’s history takes in stints with Katsurei and Cock C’ Nell, and he also recently guested with la scene 裸身.

All this contextual information does relatively little, though, to prepare you for the unique vibration of Chi To Shizuku’s lustrous songs. They shimmer in the same half-light, perhaps, as Shizuka and the quieter moments of LSD March, sharing a similar poise and classicism, and there’s a tenderness and wracked poetry to Morikawa’s voice that reminds of the emotional intensities both of traditional Japanese folk, and of British folk music: on “Musuu No Nemuri No Naka De Kumo Wo Tukamu”, the combination of his singing, backed with gorgeously plangent guitar, reminds of no-one so much as it does The Pentangle or Spriguns Of Tolgus. Chi To Shizuku’s love for the ballad as form gifts their music an archaic, sometimes arcane resonance, and from what you can hear on this album, it’s clear they’re in love with graceful melancholy.

But this is not a folk album, by any means; it just shivers with the same eternal spirit. There are also hints of prog rock, and you can catch some passages of scratchy, distended free rock, on the extended spirit invocation of “Nanhito Hanhito”. je prie pour que la goutte ne tombe pas is an extraordinary album, a melancholy surprise, that reminds dedicated listeners of the seemingly bottomless well of great music to be found via the Japanese underground in its many forms. Perhaps Michel Henritzi says it best, though, in his liner notes, when he writes, “Chi To Shizuku’s music reminds us that our life is a dream that lasts only a season, and that oblivion will follow.”

Recorded at Koenji High Suginami, Tokyo, 23 November 2021
Mix & Mastering: Taku Unami, photography : Noriko Akiyama
Liner notes by Jon Dale Printed by Alan Sherry