Anoyo No Dekigoto is a duo performance unit, consisting of dance by Yoko Muronoi and music by Ikuro Takahashi. The project has existed for four or five years, but this is their first release with any substantial physical footprint on this corporeal plane.\r\n Takahashi has a lengthy history in the Japanese rock underground, dating back to his involvement with no-wavers Akebonoizu during the late seventies and early eighties. Since then he has been the drummer of choice for virtually everyone whos anyone on the scene. High Rise, Fushitsusha, Tamio Shiraishi, Kosokuya, Ch_֬_-SHIZU, Maher Shalal Hash Baz, and Nagisa Ni Te amongst others have all benefited from his propulsive, dynamic mastery of space. Solo, duo and more expansive projects under a variety of names including Aura Nihilitica, Lamones Young, and Of Dogstarman have revealed a hitherto unsuspected facility for environment-altering improvised drone and electronic drift. Muronoi too has a long CV of experimental dance work behind her, ranging from solo butoh pieces to multi-media collaborations with visual artists, filmmakers and musicians.\r\n The name Anoyo no dekigoto means something like Happenings in the Other World, an entirely appropriate moniker for the indeterminate, non-linear and metaphysical nature of the communication between Muronoi and Takahashi during their improvised performances. The music is not simply a background score for the dancers movements. Takahashi even shies away from the description of what they do as communication. Rather, he refers to a complex series of negotiations between dancer, musician, environment, and audience that serve to create a sense of enveloping, trembling communal space. On these recordings, Takahashi takes his interest in electronics to another level. On one track he deploys over thirty tiny oscillators to create a constantly moving, deeply immersive field of higher-function insect chatter. Even without Muronois wraith-like physical presence, the music on this album exerts an eerie and oblique dominance over any room in which it is played. It subtly modifies the listeners perception of time and space, leaving behind a tangible and mournful reminder of its presence, like the luminescent tracks of some passing phantom slowly decaying back into incorporeality. -Alan Cummings. Edition of 300 in yet another incredible silkscreened jacket!
