Tatsuya Yoshida & Satoko Fujii
Erans

Yet another tireless center of the Zorn-ian "Tzadik": fifty-nine saturated minutes, forty-eight dense (nano)seconds, crystallized into thirteen astonishing strokes of sonic hyper-dynamism; the only "solitary" music-manufactured objects used/martyred: piano and drums. Instrumental-guilty (confessed) of the hieratic tortuous demanding work described, the visionary Monsieur Tatsuya Yoshida, a tentacular skin-beater with angry pasts in courageous and underground Japanese outfits (Yellow Biomechanik Orchestra 2, as well as the surreal/cacophonic, "ruinous" Ruins), then the graceful and gentle (a bit less when she throws herself on the keys) Mademoiselle Satoko Fujii, a crazy "quadruped" and wonderfully complete "pianist" with a vast background of artistic collaborations and a rich array of audio recordings of not only exquisitely jazz origin.

The two adventurous transversal-Japanese jazz/eggiants in question irreverently weave together, as well as fully constitute, clarifying, convoluted jazz-patterns, often menacingly nervous and hasty, sometimes underground reflective but perpetually heralding that imminent (often chilling) sense of pentagrammatic thickening jazz-sublimation. One perceives an intense, as well as artistically vital, sensation of sonic-challenging confrontation: the two virtuosos in question execute the "score" at times almost in opposition, as if a sort of salvific competition between their respective instruments of personal musical-offense/belonging (or defense... your choice) were at play for the affirmation of a hypothetical underlying finale.

The script is (... needless to say) often astounding, if not sensational, for dynamic balance and execution style: a work skillful in contemplating an appreciable equidistance between jazz-experimentalism (not taken to extreme consequences) and smooth, fluid musicality. The graceful lady "uses" the (presumably) limping keyboard with the same vehemence, agility, and elegance with which a herd of buffalo would move if they stumbled upon a cramped provincial crystal shop. On the other hand, the good Tatsuya "simply" bashes everything humanly-percussible in front and next to him, with precision/fluidity on the verge of the absurd, apparently without any tired solution of continuity.

The most knowledgeable on the subject will argue that similar acoustic tropes have long been widely narrated in the Jarrett-ian way of playing (especially in his Don Pullen-ian collaborations): fortunately the oblique Yoshida/Fujii-notions just immortalized in heart-stopping tr(a)cks like the telluric "Feirsttix", the undulating "Take Right", as well as the compelling "Ayentanams" or even the cartoon-like "Snyguilp", while contemplating them, theorize, broaden, and develop (often extreme) the original concepts, expressing a notable material/linguistic property and a well-defined, at times dazzling, effective, free form-physiognomy.