The little fairy with almond-shaped eyes has returned to brighten our
afternoons of boundless disappointment, coated in a patina of cold and
melancholy.
Following up a shimmering little gem like "Snow Bird" was no
easy feat. That album is a spell woven by a little sorceress dressed in
garments colored blue, gold and silver. Calm, soft chimes. Like a
small heap of snow falling and shattering on a smooth, rounded rock.
The electronic streaks depict a dazzling rainbow, the acoustic embroidery
they carve mystical, delightful sculptures.
The album in question highlights
an evolution of the sound, a will to improve and develop new solutions,
also with an eye to the future. The focus is on classic arrangements (violin,
cello, guitar, etc.), without entirely abandoning the digital excrescences,
a perfect backdrop for a triumph of songs that are simply pop, simply
beautiful. "Something's Lost" is one of the sweetest, most graceful and angelic songs
heard in 2005. Tears that smell of grime set the dream in motion,
a synth-etic organ injects noise and tenderness at the same time, Naoko begins,
with her tiny voice, to breathe out a heart-stopping "La La LaLaaa". A
guitar creeps in (played by Yuichiro Iwasita), distant and forgotten, echoes of
mysterious voices arrive, an atmosphere is painted in glittering colors, thick and thin,
concrete and abstract. A fairy tale for young and old alike.
“Early In The
"Summer" is the continuation of the dream. Once again a haze of glitches wraps around
our mind, a tinkling, starry xylophone leaves precious notes to the silence.
Gen Saito's violin cuts as sharp as a blade, little robotic creatures
hop about happily in every direction, an unrecognizable percussion
carves out sly, knowing rhythms, Naoko's voice takes flight across boundless skies, clouds
white and endless smiles.
“Besides Me” is more fragmented, the
melody is broken and disfigured, the rhythm limps along and there's no throughline
connecting the various chimes.
The guitar is played in a
haphazard way, one repeated figure sounds like a cicada singing carefree,
the bleeps are the trill of fluttering little birds, the words are dictated
by emotion and by a secluded, intimate setting. Sonic souls travel,
gliding over towering trees, brushing past flowers painted with beauty and
passing through a waterfall of purest water.
“Color Of Breeze” is a
minute and a little more of brushstrokes on a canvas, depicting mountains of
ice, human shivers and pangs of cold.
It’s merely the prelude to “Little
Girl Poems”.
Tones from some unknown world, a drawn-out, dragging
organ, and Naoko doesn’t just go through the motions but sings her poetry with great
personality. Celestial intensity and a touching spirit. Moments
of pause are laden with meaning, the tone rises with the arrival of an intrusive
accordion, the ending is a gradual dissolving of every element, as if
struck by some sudden illness. The silence helps us take in, second
by second, what we’ve just heard.
“Muse” is a lo-fi
suite, in which piano notes from thousands of miles away form a
backdrop to recordings of everyday noises, a bewitching and
seductive hybrid.
“Mother’s Love” is folk with no contamination. Just a drone
silently composes a dreamlike undercurrent, capable of delivering flashes of pain, the
rest is pure classicism. Just Naoko's guitar and voice. Everything else disappears,
vanishes, fades into the background. “Moon And Cello” is pop for a tidy, gleaming
little bedroom. Small curtains whipping in a sickly sun, a comfortable, soft sofa,
an antique chair, the winged fairy in front of her microphone, her bandmates
create just the right setting, warmth spreads, peace reigns. Close your eyes
and let these notes guide you.
“Beginning” closes things out, the last glittering
sketch of an unimpeachable handful of songs.
An album to heal
wounds that seem incurable, perfect for mending deep scars, ideal
for holding on to hope for a lost joy.
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30/04/2026
This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Alessandro Biancalana, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.