From UK-based Cold Spring Records comes the new release by Mayuko Hino (from the band CCCC) titled Lunisolar. It’s two lengthy tracks starting with the crusty drone vs. monastery bells on Fantainhead. It’s like an open circuit mixed with heavy rough winds, a low-fi reverberating buzz and a centering tone of a gong-like bell. 日野繭子 makes no bones about her wide-ranging noisician flexability here, nor her honored place in the contemporary Japanoise scene. After all, she’s been actively at it since the early 90s, even though this is only her second solo record. Unlike a bevy of artists who just make ear-splitting sonic somersaults, Hino’s sound is more impressionistic and staggered in its delivery, incorporating a yin/yang of the industrial and environmental.
The severe blast of wired drones sound like a giant firehose battling a blaze in the final minutes of track one. The half-stops and firestarts are relentless, even when tweeky artificial birds add a twisted and awkward dirge of comedy at the conclusion. Rumbling on and away the cascading whistles go down with a fight against alien communications systems. This is revved-up acoustic gymnastics best heard at a higher volume. So many subtleties, it’s kinda mythic.
Now for the residual pummeling as heard on the provocative mini jack hammer front end tinged of Astral Travelling. At nearly a half hour we enter a world splatter-painted with a scrim of pure industrial implausibilities. Slowly the discordant bliss (for some) sifts into tendrils of tectonic tones as a bass low struggles in finding clearance amid a pressurized pitch that basically phases out everything in its way. A barrel of rumble just circles through the frazzled static. One might imagine the title implying a craft at light speed jettisoning through the endless cosmos, facing unexpected craggy space junk and various foreign gasses. Halfway the crescendo does not disappoint as sci-fi tonal electronics are gradually phased in for good measure, breaking through the noise barrier, if only fleetingly. The minds eye captures a series of flying saucer effects with the midas touch of a spinning synth, and lava gushing forth ragged drones encrusted with fiery white noise. This record will appeal to sci-fi geeks and noise freaks in a whole new way. It’s visceral and tangible, it’s got a wry sense of humor but is in no way a knee-slapper. Lunisolar is breathtaking, for real. Available on CD.