Imported gatefold 2xLP with obi-strip
We weren't aware this was coming when putting together our reissue of IV, but how glad we are it's back in the world at a time when its creator's profile is at its most pronounced in a while. First released as a CD in 1998, the immaculately titled Phenomenal Luciferin was Naoki Zushi's second solo album, arriving a decade after his debut. Eight of those in-between years were spent recording a collection that's markedly different to its predecessor, Paradise, itself a more off-the-cuff LP made in just three days. The extra time taken understandably allows for a wider palette of sound and influence (and who doesn't at least partially shift perspectives in an eight year period?), though this is unmistakably a Zushi production - contemplative, hopeful, and, even if the term is a somewhat misused one, spiritual. It's also a record that feels to be in service to a greater tradition of Japanese experimental music, one that looks forward and back with equal vigour, aligning psych, free jazz, enka, balladry and minimalism in ways that feel visionary, even within the context of an already visionary musical ecosystem (Phenomenal Luciferin was first released by the legendary Org label, and includes contributions from label boss Shinji Shibayama, as well as Naoki's brother Masaki, and Kiyoshi Hashimoto). Opening track, 'Mysterium Coniunctionis', which later appears in acoustic form, is somewhat of a misnomer, an almost-pop like production that might throw the otherwise uninitiated off the scent. But hang in there, for the rewards fall like rain from there on in, not least by the time you arrive at 'I Was Looking Into The Surface Of The Water Reflecting The Sunlight', a 10-minute long piano piece that in both title and delivery stands as an effective calling card for Zushi's entire oeuvre. Melancholic doesn't quite cover it - this is a demonstrably sad composition charged by a particularly delicate performance, which could equally be a hymnal to loss, redemption or sincere acceptance. The Reichian instrumental pieces towards the end are transportative in their own manner, but really, it's when Zushi sings that something truly original is divined, that sense of the ineffable eternal some people just seem tuned in to. Import charges and high wholesale prices mean this isn't cheap. But then again, nor is the truth. You pay your money, you take your choice.
