I have just gotten back to Tokyo after going to the Fuji Rock Festival for four days. It was a hectic (albeit fun!) event, that involved a lot of running between stages and working areas, many times in the middle of rain. It was not particularly easy to focus on music at this music festival, save for a few extended breaks. And now I’m back in Tokyo, and city where stopping for even a second seems like an impossible task. I’ve been off the bus for one hour and I’m in a Starbucks in Shibuya…which is where bedroom-recording artist Metoronori calls home (Shibuya, not the Starbucks)…already typing away, surrounded by couples chatting, English lessons and Bob Marley blaring on the in-store speakers. I’m listening to Metoronori’s new album Mail.
I wonder if Metoronori feels the same sense of overwhelming stimuli at times, and uses her music as an escape from the rush of Shibuya. Because Mail is filled with great details that could easily be missed. The very first song on this is an atmospheric intro, but listen closely and all sorts of stray sounds start popping up. A stray click, some xylophone twinkles, what sounds like a TV broadcast. All of these get wrapped up in sweet synth washes. Metoronori’s voice has always been her strongest instrument, often muffled and mousey, but she’s unafraid to use it strangely. Sometimes she just talks, other times she sings like she’s looking for an entirely different song. It works in her homemade songs, adding both playfulness and a bit of mystery. And of course, she also has a great ear for pop melodies, as on highlights “Hi” and “Meto (Shibire).” It seems weird to try to tell someone HOW they should listen to music…but Mail sounds best when you block out the world around and just zero in on it. Get it here, or listen below.