As winter gives way to springtime, I thought it would be nice to revisit our Japanese post-New Age friends at Everything Play. This time around we’ll travel to their self-titled third release on Mr. Hosono’s Panam label with solo mastermind Sohichiro (or Souichiro, depending on the release) Suzuki being joined by newfound musical partner (ex-Flipper’s Guitar and future Cornelius behind-the-scenes wiz kid) Toyoaki Mishima. 1992’s Everything Play, arguably, is a gorgeous slice of spring music with elements of love, innocence, and loss floating around some of the most fully-formed ideas both would ever lay on tape. An ode to the symbolism behind all sorts of latter-day Paul McCartney music, it’s there attempt to draw them even further down that rabbit hole.
Can I recommend something? I’d like to recommend taking this album out on a walk. If you do, you’ll notice how Everything Play has absorbed the ideas of environmental music and translated a whole bunch of them into the Pop realm. Oodles of field recording seem to infiltrate some of the loveliest melodies both Sohichiro and Toyoaki coax out of their assorted synths and toy instruments. The influence of all things, like Krautrock, electronica, and country music, creep in, in ways that sound perfectly in tune with this new world.
Just a year prior Everything Play had released Posh a deep dive into Pan-Pacific musics, taking apart their “Pop” part for a more mystical take on some kind of early ’50s exotica. Posh came as closest to reliving the heady days of early World Standard where bossa nova, jazz, Pop and all its little divots were explored. Everything Play sounds different because far more electronic elements are brought into the foray with equal amounts as unplaceable sonic ephemera, these aren’t vignettes like Posh seemed to be, here every song had a purpose.
Instantly, you can see what that is. Every song on Everything Play is titled after some McCartney (or McCartney-esque) original. “野生の生活 (Wild Life)” reimagines the idyllic post-Beatles breakup debut as a larger-than-life sing-song, touching on the soon-to-be folksy-lilting music McCartney would gravitate to with coy aplomb.
McCartney’s final album with Wings seems to inspire the naive motorik of “バック・トゥー・ジ・エッグ (Back To The Egg)” willing to it the quietly powerful innocent vibes that blessed McCartney’s sorely misjudged stabs at New Romanticism and disco. This quiet power in innocence perfectly captures the mood of the album. From their ethereal take on Nino Rota’s “Romeo and Juliet” to the Subotnik-on-uppers, “トゥモロー (Tomorrow)”, end-capping the album, there isn’t anything patently abrasive here which makes it a perfect mood enhancer.
That doesn’t mean Everything Play doesn’t make room to stun you.
Sublime songs like “マムーニア (Mamunia)” and “最愛の友 (Best Friend)” seem to create their own Van Dyke Parksian/Wilsonian SMiLE world, where innocence is used as this powerful form called “nostalgia” and that remembrance is tweaked for maximum feels. Everything Play’s idea of New Age music seems to come from a more innocent time, when actual sound exploration aimed at a more communal feeling, where certain sounds can trigger vivid memories of one’s youth.
The barely there conversation of “ママ・ミス・アメリカ (Momma Miss America)” brings to mind the pregnant conversations left open when we run across things happening outside that distract us from the trudge of day to day. “シー・ムーン (C. Moon)” play like ballets springing to life through all sorts of nebulous half-awoken daydreams. Play this album to your kids and they’ll get it. Play this album to others and they’ll seek it. Play this album by yourself and you’ll learn to understand it. Much like Yann Tomitas’ Doopee Time this another hopelessly romantic album for simple things that bring us all the most joy.