I should stop saying this but it still boggles my mind that certain names aren’t more well known everywhere. Case in point: one Daisaku Kume. A rarity in the Japanese music biz, Daisaku Kume’s Eastern Shore was one of the few early Japanese ambient records released outside of Japan. An even bigger rarity was that Eastern Shore actually had the backing of an American label (Mesa/Bluemoon Recordings), affording it production in both the States and Japan, and compound that with a feeling they left the artist to take the reins of the whole deal. This was a big deal.
Featuring a genuinely impressive fusion of next-generation electronic American and Japanese New Age and jazz, Eastern Shore floats above easy categorization. Long out of print, here’s hoping others take the time to rediscover his work.
Right off the bat, if any of you are deep Japanese jazz devotees, you’ve probably already encountered some of Daisaku Kume’s work. Tokyo born and raised, Daisaku Kume was the keyboardist and one of the founders of pioneering Japanese fusion group Prism. With Prism he laid tasty/funky electric piano riffs that would influence future J-Fusion acts. Two years (and two albums) later he’d bounce into Shiro Sagisu’s equally infamous T-Square, another soulful fusion group that did well to exploit Kume-san’s (now) expanding melodic palette.
In 1984, shifting to a different kind of fusion, with Kiyohiko Semba’s avant J-Punk group Haniwa All Stars, brought Daisaku closer to the sphere of music he’d eventually develop through his very brief and sadly unappreciated solo work. There Daisuku began exploring electronics and sonic atmosphere, favoring further leftfield arrangements that were far from the sleekness of his prior work.
In due time, Daisaku would begin fleshing out the sonic atmospheres of other musicians like Yas-Kaz, Chakra and by the time of his debut, finding both time to create an impressionistic ambient jazz for Takeshi Kitano’s Violent Cop film and contributing killer acid house piano on Flipper’s Guitar “Groove Tube”. The sprawl was evident then. The only thing left to be said was what exactly Daisaku’s own musical vision was.
Taking advantage of Tokuma Japan Communications trying to branch out into the world of BGM and jazz, he signed with their Moo Records sublabel. Under Moo Records, Tokuma J-C (in conjunction with America’s Mesa/Bluemoon Recordings) tried to join both western and “eastern” musicians under one production flag. Musicians like Hitoshi Watanabe and Asuka Kaneko, could now travel to America or vice versa, have others like Peter Erskine and Iki Levy flesh out the work of Japanese composers like Daisaku Kume. In doing so, they’d combine their sensibilities (whatever they might be) into a third or fourth one that could be promoted across both eastern and western shores.
In the scope of a month, from March to May, 1993, Daisaku traveled to the vicinities of Los Angeles, California and later back to Tokyo armed with compositions seemingly inspired by that in between stylistic, musical point in Japanese music. Songs like the opener “Asian Eyes” bring to mind Hideki Mitsumori’s attempt to mutate influences from world music through the prism of thoroughly modern electronics. Here a furthering, now being treated to some help by other next-gen Japanese ambient jazz players, helped Daisaku create something that sounds like the missing link forward.
This you hear in songs like Eastern Shore’s title track or in “The Fathers To Fathers”. Strains of European ambient jazz and Americana New Age (of the Windham Hill) type now gain extra flavors of Daisaku’s own influence and creation. This stuff is stately but endearingly different enough, as if it’s trying to assert its own value from equally important/imported eastern roots.
Then, how about songs like “Into Your Heart”? A wonderful showcase of Mekong Zoo’s Asuka Kaneko’s violin prowess, “Into Your Heart” is Ponty-esque in its base but searching enough to propel it somewhere unexpected. Then there’s that closing triptych of “The Lost Field”, “Words From The Distance”, and “Close To Love” all moving musical pictures, going through truly dreamlike sonic states, intertwining gorgeous, pastoral electro-acoustic music with all sorts of nostalgic sonics meeting equally mysterious found sounds and samples. This is a mood setting record to remember.
In the end, for 12 minutes or so, Daisaku’s compositional brilliance shines in music that is neither jazz nor New Age. Could this be yet another glimpse at a fourth world right on at the edge of an eastern shore? All I know, is I’m glad we had a chance to find it on our end of the world.