It’s perhaps uncommon knowledge that the best marriages (and relationships) are those comprised of two individuals coming together not in spite of their differences but because of their differences. One can clearly hear this in practice in the nearly telepathic playing of Osaka Japanese New Age guitar duo, Gontiti. In the past I’ve written a bit about the self-described creators of “The Most Comfortable Music On Earth”. Today, we go into their discography a bit further and go into that very brief period when they decided to “consciously uncouple” (in a way that, I imagine, lead Gooper probably meant the word to be used) and others finally got to hear the slightly younger half, Gonzalez Mikami, let his id run wild: gate of notion.
In 1993, ten years after their first release as a duo, Another Mood, Gontiti decided to give their fans something unprecedented. As a “thank you” for sticking around through all their exploits: two solo albums. For the first and only time separating out as solo artists, Masahiko “Gonzalez Mikami” and Masahide “Titi” Matsumura, were able to explore whatever they thought they brought to the table as Gontiti.
As much a creative exercise as it was a breather from each other, on the works of gate of notion and Doll-Like Woman (ふなのような女) we get to hear what they were actually into. For Titi, his return was to the music of France, cool jazz, folk, and decidedly, European-like sophisticated music. As the lead songwriter and vocalist on all Gontiti albums, it appears by himself, he preferred simpler music in the end.
For Gonzalez, on gate of notion, you could hear all sorts of underground advances in technology and in dance and urban soul music (surprisingly) were the things that floated his boat. I say surprisingly, because Gontiti, although influenced by the music of Latin America and the weirdness of their often askew exploits elsewhere with technology, always erred on this side of relaxation music. Gate of notion threw that out the door, mostly. You hear in it ideas gleaned from new school ambient, house, hip-hop and breakbeat music. This was askew “comfort music” for now-generation X club chill-out rooms.
In Gonzalez’ other sphere of influence, he’d slowly grown as a graphic designer, toying with CGI and computer-generated art. Gate of notion, even with its decidedly ‘90s aesthetic, is now (somehow) more in than out, predicting our oversized, slapdash, post-everything world that we live in. This album was worth it for the wonderful collection of CG art by various Japanese graphic artists and the equally adventurous video seen above. Equally, the music served as this mirror to these same ideas, taking full advantage of the CD era to create tracks that play like a great mix rather than a single unified theme.
Beating Mr. Hosono to the ambient chill out room punch, just two years earlier, Gonzalez convened the minds and voices of future Love, Peace, & Trance members: Michio Ogawa, Mimori Yusa, and Miyako Koda — plus one equally memorable assist from ex-Cioccolata vocalist (Cano Caoli), for a session where he’d try to update the more rhythmic side of Gontiti, for a generation who prefer their chill not in a spa but in a club.
Working with members of ‘90s Japanese downtempo crew Silent Poets, J-Reggaeneers Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra, and Gota Yashiki, he actualized his ideas. From the past, he’d welcome back others like Masahiro Sugaya and Ochi Brothers, and a dash from Titi, helping Gonzalez him conjure up some magic that best served him in whatever style they best excelled at.
Highlights would take form in tracks like the Italian-sung dub downtempo swing of “Bin [Come una bottiglia]” sung by Cano Caoli, longform tracks of pure vibey music. Later on she’d come with “In The Schoolyard” for a pure ‘90s-esque bigbeat banger that plays like some forgotten Fishmans highlight. Others like “Microwave Rhapsody” might still hold the candle as classic Gontiti-esque funky tracks. However, children to older Gontiti fans would find a deeper love for tracks like “Mr. Poiny Poin and 4 Gabby Beauties”, itself a meaningful song that belongs heavily indebted to the little-appreciated acid jazz scene — perhaps something else we need to revive?
Then we have tracks like “Blue Of Green” written and sung by dip in the pool’s Miyako Koda, with music and atmosphere by Gonzalez Mikami and Masahiro Sugaya, that forget a lot of the nonsense of about staying “hip” and au courant and simply fall back into creating timeless easy listening that is in its own way quite forward-thinking.
Always, the more left-thinking side of the two, on songs like “Geese Honking, Flogs Hopping” and “My Fat White Cat” joyful, sunny things from Gonzalez remind you that he still cares enough to not to take things too seriously. Now, that you can enjoy your Sundays with the sweet soul jazz of Gonzalez’ nylon-string plucking and still find various little things that sound unlike anyone else speaks to testaments to how Mr. Mikami wisely let his fingers do the talking…at least for that one time he went his separate way.