Takahiro Kido
Yuki Murata
Utaka Fujiwara

Track.1+6+8 Composed by
Track.10+11 Composed by
Track.2+4+5+7+9 Composed by
Track.3 Composed by

Recorded & Mixed by
Mastered by

Art Direction & Design by

Piano - Programming - Organ - Glockenspiel - Melodion...
Piano - Programming - Organ - Synthesizer - Guitar...
Viola

Yuki Murata
Takahiro Kido
Takahiro Kido + Yuki Murata
Takahiro Kido + Yuki Murata + Utaka Fujiwara

Takahiro Kido + Yuki Murata
Hideharu Masai

Takahiro Kido

 

Track.3 = a.m.4:20  
   

 

about "re-Silence"

The name Takahiro Kido doesn't really need much of an introduction around here. Having been featured as an Artist of the Week and in the Tracks of the Week charts, he’s no stranger to these parts. In fact, over the past weeks, this guy's name has been bandied about like a platter of sandwiches at a retirement home party.

Anoice, Mokyow, and Cru are all ensembles that name-check this ambidextrous musician as a vital ingredient, and rightly so. This time around Kido has hooked up with Yuki Murata under the Cru moniker to create a collection of delicate textures, hues of a contemplative timbre speckled with fragile ivories and other miscellaneous instruments. re-Silence is a medley of reflective pieces recorded anywhere from concert halls to fields, strangely enough, and lacquered at a later point with layers of sound for your aural pleasure.

My trusty companion for the past number of days, re-Silence has fittingly sound-tracked the loneliness of deserted evening offices to crowded asphalt walkways in the rain. If you’re looking for something chipper then I’d pass, but if a thought provoking work of spectral beauty is your thing then Robert's your father's brother! Ha-ha-hah…

From the offset, re-Silence takes no prisoners, immediately arresting the very breath by way of pearl drop piano resonating with almost childlike innocence over a sparse canvass. “Sea” is a frugal piece per se, but I can’t help feel that the artist has an exceptional eye for beauty in the mundane. Stuttered shifting background tones that remind me of someone toying with a damaged earphone cable to subtle panning and micro-minimal electronic tenderness – there’s a delicate yet intricately constructed tapestry of splintered sounds woven beneath the consistency of tinkling ivories.

Throughout the album it’s these random and delicious intricacies that spark the imagination, providing both magic and wonder. A detailed undercoat exists as a wonderfully crafted buffer for the melody to hover above. The intriguing tones of “Stella,” for example, are made all the more poignant against a hushed backdrop of muffled rain. Each time I listen to it I envisage a simplistic Walt Disney scullery scene with ghosts composing motifs on a wineglass Marimba.

Like theme music for a bush tucker buffet, “Tree” is a collection of knocks and snuffled shufflings at a tribal gathering, serving as a deus ex machina that snaps us from the droning stringed melancholy of “AM 4.20.” The most aptly named piece, “Wind” is a movement of gently undulating tones like sombre gusts in the hollows. Mimicking the mournful cadence of a twilight zephyr, it’s a haunting midpoint punctuation where the melody sways like flotsam and jetsam.

The influences overall seem grounded in the natural world, with the sea, wind, rain, moonlight, darkness, trees, and mist all referenced in the song titles. And just like nature itself, the direction is oft unpredictable, which makes for an enchanting journey. It’s the equivalent of a water color painting – a subtle arrangement of emotions that wash into each other without undermining the flux of the album, with each listen throwing up a new favorite.

Consummating with the achingly delicate notes of “Shining,” re-Silence is a splendid artistic endeavor. Meandering skilfully between ideas and instruments, it’s a varied easel, but not one that lacks appeal. The classically tinted piano frills counteract the sombre façade that exists courtesy of forlorn organs and various synthetic background pastels, balancing the album's feel and withholding it from becoming overly lachrymose. Melodeon also lends an old world feel in “Darkside” that smacks of a gypsy lament accompanying a brooding organ, just another tint in the spectrum of varied sounds that make this a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

Virtually beatless except for the soft tribal throbs of "Tree,” re-Silence is not as flamboyant as Fleursy Music and harbors more dynamic appeal and mystery than In My Time. While minimal in build, re-Silence is a more intense affair. I’d pitch it with Remmings by Anoice, not for style, but insofar as containing select moments of profound beauty that surface throughout. Blending ambient-esque passages and delicate tinkling musings, it’s what you might call a coffee table think-piece for a day you throw a house party and nobody shows up.

Takahiro can lay claim to many great musical endeavors, but at this juncture I’m in the court of the Cru. re-Silence treads a softer footfall with an air of hushed mystique, what you might call piquant. While not wanting to discredit other related projects (Takahiro and Yuki are the main composers of Anoice) they shine brightest in the simplistically improvisational work found here. For those of you who appreciate the indulgence of melancholia and enjoy relaxing, therapeutic sounds, then buy it and save it for a rainy day - it’ll make it all the more meaningful.

=James Crossan - The Silent Ballet

 

 

cru is a beautiful sound unit formed by Takahiro Kido and Yuki Murata. Most music of Cru are made from Piano, Organ, or other instruments. But, after the recording in concert hall or fields, they also processes and carefully layers these sounds in their computer to obtain the perfect combination. Therefore, works of Cru is completed by using the maximum power of musical acoustic instruments.

website = www.fleursy.com/cru