Mixmaster Morris has a lot of friends and fans in Japan. He’s just completed his 52nd tour. In 1995 and `96, Morris met YMO’s Haruomi Hosono, who’d come to check out The Mixmaster’s Tokyo shows. This subsequently led to an invite to Hosono’s Quiet Lodge Studio. In 1997, together with Jonah Sharp, Morris worked there on what would become the album, Quiet Logic. The pair were given free riegn / full access, apart from a Moog theremin, which they were forbidden to touch (there’s a joke in there somewhere, but you need to buy the album, and read the sleeve notes). Hosono was tied up with another project, but in the evenings would listen and add his own contributions. The results were whittled down to 6 tracks, around an hour of music, and released the following year on CD via Hosono’s Daisy World Discs. Nearly 3 decades later, We Release Whatever The Fuck We Want have now pressed the set – pristinely – to vinyl.

Uchi Yuei stretches metallic Oriental timbres over LFO undulations. Shaken by splinters of drum & bass syncopation, and with its SFX lasers set to stun. Wakarimasen winds aquatic acoustics, drones and deconstructed voices about broken beats. The album’s title track hijacks LTJ Bukem’s jazzy “ambient” chords, and has them accompany increasingly twisted and filtered mid tempo breaks. Tsukimi, named after an autumn moon festival, bubbles around woodblocks. Dr. Gauss / Yakan Hiko is a dose of dub funk, which might have once been a straightforward drum solo, now sampled, serrated, stuck back together out of sequence and blasted by echo.

For me, the standout is Waraitake, which is named after Japanese magic or rather “laughing” mushrooms. Over 13 minutes in length, riding warm swells and full of fidgeting frequencies, along the way it tips it cap to classic Detroit techno. Reaching for the future in its synthesised strings’ sweeps and swoons. There are tiny industrial ingredients, delicately dancing, way down in the mix, and the odd distorted buzz. As if this were the grist of the gears that power the machines. Racing, urgent, worrying warp speed, but beatless. Beautiful. A score for landcruising, a neon-lit night drive thru Babylon, the bottom end booms, and the circuitry chatters. Continually changing, ever evolving. There are sections where the friction falls away and it just glides.

The music, and pressing, here showcase an amazing separation of sound. The pieces are packed with subliminal detail, that only occasionally spins to the surface. Everything is spinning, constantly. All seems microscopically manipulated. Nothing is raw or unprocessed. Its composers swimming in novel spaced-out textures. Celebrating serendipity. Worshipping the glitch. Patiently, painstakingly, improvising plugged-in arrangements, that gracefully, in real-time, ironically, organically grow.

Quiet Logic is out now on We Release Whatever The Fuck We Want.