Do you hear that?
It is the sound of the impending storm rolling in from the distance. Slowly the sky fills with dark clouds and droplets of rain speckle the concrete. With it comes feelings of dread but also rejuvenation, because water replenishes the landscape and almost always afterward the sun bursts through the clouds. The storm's symphony instills an array of fixed emotions on the inhabitants of the land below, effortlessly transitioning from one to the next. Melancholia to Fear to more Melancholia to Satisfaction, and any and all the things we feel in between.
A three day symphony.
The first day harkens the intransigent efforts brought forth by Organum, with Bianchi's usual clamour ironed out into a delicate fluctuation of muted noise. A stunning opener. Day two caters more towards the old school Bianchi, beginning with a mash up of groaning electronics, sputtery synth swells, and schizophrenic activity, though the languid execution suppresses any chance at a deafening cacophony. Instead the track sort of putters forward eventually being submerged in a slow pulsating drone. A slightly unusual approach maybe, but it works. Day three makes its intentions clear from the opening seconds, a simmering blissed-out drone piece peppered with small flurries of electroacoustic detritus.
By the noise Bianchi is capable of, and Kasahara–who has apparently collaborated with The New Blockaders–The Epidemic Symphony No.9, aside from a few jarring moments, is a surprisingly tame effort. An attribute that, if anything, is the album's strong point. Thanks to the hand of Hitoshi Kojo–who's solo efforts are always impressive yet unfortunately largely overlooked–The Epidemic Symphony No.9 stands as an exceptional release
by Scrapyard Forecast
We've long championed the work of Maurizio Bianchi, the grim electronic sculptor whose work in the early '80s paralleled the likes of Whitehouse, Ramleh, and Matthew Bower's early power electronics project Total. As much as we would like to ramble on about Bianchi's intriguing musical and existential history in reference to this record, it's almost a moot point as it's really hard to discern any sounds that bear the signature of Mr. Bianchi. Don't let that caveat scare you off from checking out this thoroughly amazing blur of noise, drone, acoustic tumult and electronics; but we have to be completely honest. No, it doesn't sound much like a Bianchi record; instead, the real author of the final mix of The Epidemic Symphony No. 9 is the little known Japanese sound artist Hitosji Kojo (who also records as Spiracle). If there's any justice, Hitoshi / Spiracle shouldn't be "little known" for very long. In fact, he should be heralded as the viable contender to replace David Jackman / Organum as the king of the droning acoustics. And no, none of the guttural drone expressionists who splatter cd-rs with quickly rendered cosmic exasperations come close to the power that Jackman was capable of in the '80s. But Hitoshi Kojo does.
Like Jackman, Hitoshi's work is a dense compounding of layered acoustic textures, each of which are impeccably recorded and carefully positioned within the stereo field. In working with the source material presented by Bianchi and Nobu Kasahara (another obscure Japanese sound artist who has collaborated once before with The New Blockaders, giving some clue as the cacophony he's capable of), Hitoshi continues this strategy of precisely placed sounds which are then given plenty of opportunity to growl, rumble, vibrate, and bristle however they see fit. Where the first lengthy track steadily builds up to a crashing crescendo that abruptly cuts to silence, the second track exhibits some of what may be Bianchi's sounds -- a return to the Sacher Pelz techniques of varispeed tape and crushed turntable clatter which Hitoshi compounds into rippled acoustic shimmer. For the finale, Hitoshi blurs the source material into an industrial chorale marked by a surprisingly elegant two-note melody. Highly recommended!
by Jim Haynes (Aquarius Records)
credits
released July 7, 2006
mail exchange collaboration, 2003 winter - 2005 winter
among Milano, Tokyo, Kagoshima, Lavaux
recorded, composed, artwork by Maurizio Bianchi, Nobu Kasahara, Hitoshi Kojo
Octpia is a sound archive of Hitoshi Kojo between 1996 and 2006, from Japan till the transition period to
Europe.
The titles are in chronological order of the original works/releases, not by the release dates of the digital editions here.
So some new releases might be displayed in the lower part of this page.
supported by 6 fans who also own “The Epidemic Symphony No.9 疫病交響曲第9番”
Isn't this what Sigmund Freud called "regression in the service of ego", creativity as a temporal loss of the well-tempered adults mind.
And I would also like to remind of the childs method to exert control over separation through, what Freud calls, "fort und da" i.e. the childs command adressed to the spool thrown out with a thread connected. Fascinating music reminding me of Sigmund Freud. Many thx!
sven thomas nordlöf
A stellar compilation featuring shoegaze and indie favorites like Drowse, Midwife, and Mount Eerie benefitting Project Onward in Chicago. Bandcamp New & Notable May 11, 2023
Less a solo act than a one-man megalith, Khôra builds impressive experimental soundscapes from modular synths, flutes, harps, and more. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 19, 2020
supported by 6 fans who also own “The Epidemic Symphony No.9 疫病交響曲第9番”
This is my favourite release so far as I slowly drill through his back catalogue. There’s something about the focus & subtle movement that captivates me. biscuitgecko