What can an album be about when its cover shows a fragment of sixteenth century Asia and Oceania? When its title combines the name of a Japanese village with the coordinates placed in the middle of the Barents Sea? Where the origins of sounds used in the compositions range from Mozambique and a ship moored in Rostock? One could suppose a contemplation on migration or maybe an overlapping of various realities and orders, memories and fantasies.

Migration results in transformation, similar to the stretched and blurred voice of Higashi in the album’s final piece "Petrole 42", which sounds like a glassy glow. Migration also results in deformation, like the muffling of an ethnic drum motif coming down to a simple formula: a reappearing pattern on a piece of fabric. I have to admit I didn't expect it, but after a few listens (using both headphones to pick up the details and speakers to get absorbed by the whole) I found Higashi's "Okura" composition the most captivating. Longer than the other compositions and conveying a more complete story, “Okura” creates an almost psychedelic-rock explosion somewhere around the middle of the piece. The incredibly low tones, not so much aggressive as firm, are simultaneously light and dynamic. Also note the clever spatial mix and varying decibel levels.

It's not my intention to indicate the pieces flanking Higashi's composition, the first by Marchetti and the finishing piece composed by both artists, are worse. It's only in comparison with "Okura", which offers many observation points, that one finds the other two, "Petrole 73” and “Petrole 42,” as more singular points of view. It doesn't necessarily have to be a drawback as through this concentration each track benefits from more in depth exploration of the sound. Besides, both pieces complement each other. They are based on the same principle: one of continuous synthesized sound surrounded by a gathering of other sounds. The first is gloomy, hoarse, and heavy with moments that remind the listener of an earlier composition, “Sirrus.” The other piece sort of soars, flies away, climbs on a crystalline range, where Higashi's call unfolds.

Okura 73°N - 42°E runs less than 35 minutes and when the last sounds fade away, you are left wanting to fill the empty space. The listener is left with an appreciation for the opportunity to experience these worlds, which, like the ones on the map printed on the cover, are unreal and couldn't come into being anywhere else.

(translated by Maciej Janasik)