On this last day of the year before my birthday, I am listening to the Long Season album by Fishmans, the Japanese band who specialized in a uniquely original mix of dub, electronics, pop, found sounds, and who knows what. The principal genius behind the band, Shinji Sato, unexpectedly passed away in March 1999, right after the release of Long Season (originally released in October 1998), so the music has now been forever suffused with a pall of what-might-have-been. By Long Season, he band was clearly at the peak of its powers, having released a series of absolutely stellar albums. But Long Season was the unexpected apotheosis of that trajectory--four musical movements arranged sequentially that take you on a short journey into the world of reverie. For a largely instrumental piece, the music is neither ponderous nor sombre -- there's a kind of elusive joy in it, but even without knowledge of lead author Sato's death, there's something about the four-chord structure that undergirds the track that feels ... weary. A joy of weariness, if you will. The sun shines bright in the song but imagine a trip across your city in car, your window open to sights and sounds and smells as neighborhoods pass in languid succession. Moments of experience are forgotten the moment you experience them. Nostalgia for the present. Perfect for the day before your birthday....
