This is not entirely the way I wanted to introduce everyone to Akira Inoue but I can’t help myself and share Dolphin. It was September 1990, on one fateful night at the some cafe dubbed Heinecken Village in Harajuku, Tokyo that keyboardist extraordinaire Akira Inoue was joined by ex-members of Aragon, Parachute, and Kazumi Band for an evening of “acoustic” semi-noodly finery, playing self-penned songs, signalling the end of summer. A year later its live recording became an album that would titled Dolphin. For now, we’ll get back to Mr. Inoue later. Today, it’s all about the Acoustic Meeting.
Scarcely a synthesizer to be found, played mostly on acoustic guitars and electric piano — one of the few things Akira Inoue wisely skirted the line to introduce — this small supergroup created an inspiring set of sunkissed fusion that found them exploring all sorts of worldly, tropical music…and a few bluesy things for the older folks in the crowd. Balearic and deeply jazz-influenced it was as far from the electronically-juiced music of the day.
Members like “studio cat” Tsuyoshi Kon spoke of the liberating feel it was to purposely limit themselves to just acoustic instruments and how they gravitated to beautiful sounds, naturally. Bassist Kenji Takamizu, who often receded to background duties on various sessions, got some limelight for once, stepping out front to explore his inner Jaco.
As for the others, Akira Inoue and Masaki Matsubara, the influence of Gallic things now stepped away from the most obvious/tired tropes of Paris and into the realms of the Mediterranean, where the Riviera met seafront sand. If Seaside Lovers, Akira Inoue’s old haunt, was a treatise to the coastline of the Pacific, on this Acoustic Meeting, other continental beachheads appear to stake their influences here and the buoyant exploration of our cetacean kin, likewise, seem destined to spark a bittersweet epic to diving into the unknown.
Although this became a one and done deal, somehow all the players seemed game for more, but Akira (always the restless type) had other things in mind. One song “Peace”, unsurprisingly, was used as CM for Japan’s ANA airlines, cementing, at least part of, this album — at least in the minds of Japanese listeners, as iconic vacation/resort music.
Somewhere, Tsuyoshi mentions this as his attempt to create an idyllic driving music. I place the Venn diagram somewhere else, as I hear “The Last Dolphin” I can’t help but put myself wading in some warmer water, floating in thoughts that are rarely heavier than those of waiting for that next wave to come.
For those that have access to some nice little piece of sand, or for those that aren’t as lucky, really try to place yourself somewhere else, after this…