Sakura was the album that introduced me to the undeniable musical genius of Japanese audio auteur Susumu Yokota. All the music press, at the time of its release, talked about the LP in such hallowed terms. Heaped praise upon it. However, back then, in 1999, I didn’t own a copy. I didn’t buy CDs – still don’t – and the vinyl was impossible to find (1). I hadn’t even heard it. I remembered the name, and I remembered its distinctive sleeve. It went on my “wants list”, when I still, obsessively, kept that kind of thing. 

Moving to Japan, 19 years ago, I thought, digging in Tokyo, copies would turn up. They didn’t. In fact none of the albums released on Yokota’s own Skintone label ever appeared in the city’s second-hand bins. Over the years I learnt of Yokota’s premature passing, and how his catalogue was tied up in complicated legal wrangling. Resulting in only scant, super limited reissues. Then, a few months ago, came Lo Recordings’ Skintone Edition Volume 1 box set – the first instalment of an extensive, exhaustive excavation of Yokota’s most personal canon. The music that Yokota made for Skintone he made for himself, separate from the club-orientated cuts he created for other imprints. Quieter, more introspective and inventive the label’s output acted as a sonic diary, of sorts. 

I planned to tackle the box, record by record, to see if I could get a handle on how Yokota’s process evolved. I’d been lucky enough to have been asked to contribute liner notes to the project, for 1998’s Image 1983 – 1998, so I had the choice of moving back to the beginning, starting with the album Magic Thread, but I just couldn’t resist jumping forward to Sakura instead. 

Prophetically – while a scientist I still look for signs – the opening track is titled Saku, the name of the larger city, where I now reside. From the outset it introduces the warm Fender Rhodes flourishes that characterise the release. These keys further colouring Yokota’s signature snippets, samples and loops, with floating melodies and funky fills. Deep listening can’t reveal what’s incredibly clever cutting and collaging, and what’s live, improvised. 

Vocals are few. Uchu Tanjyo (“Birth Of The Universe”), a small wonder of relaxing repetition, is a möbius twist of tribal hand drums and African voices (2). Azukiiro No Kaori (“Sweet Scent Of The Red Bean”) features what could be a tiny, layered, echoed steal from Jane & Barton, or Opus III. The haunting hypnotic, early Aphex Twin-esque Kodomotachi (“Children”) borrows just a little Joni Mitchell. 

The album is generally regarded as “ambient”. The beatless opener’s delicate chimes, reverb and stuttered string-like shapes betraying Yokota’s love of The Cocteau Twins and all things 4AD. The picked patterns of Hagoromo (“Robe Of Feathers”), their complexity and counterpoint, lending themselves readily, some 20 years later, to Ayane Shino’s amazing classical guitar reworkings. Shinsen (“Fresh”), similarly, is a peaceful piece constructed from picked harp and violin pizzicato, while Kirakiraboshi (“Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”) is brief, gentle breeze of tintinnabulations and woodwind-like keys. That said, several of the compositions do contain beats. 

Gekkoh (“Moonlight”), whose cinematic sleigh bells could be a Hans Zimmer or Carl Orff tribute, rides the tick-tock of a rudimentary drum machine rhythm. Hisen (“Waterfall”) weaves synth and string melodies around slow, metallic percussion, like the sound of swords clashing, that recalls the Sabres Of Paradise at their most stoned. Genshi (“Atom”, “Primitive” or “Hallucination”, Yokota kept the exact kanji characters a secret) is uptempo, but tender, trance. Symphonic orchestration and pretty chimes offsetting its house / techno 4 / 4 and didgeridoo-esque pulse bottom end. A short block of rolling bass piano notes build the foundation of Naminote – which seems to be a made up word, just like its author’s music, a collage. This is broken by bursts of stolen, Bug In The Bassbin-like jazz syncopation. Dynamite, dynamic, each spin sees the number evolve, expand into an epic. Adding keys and vibes. Teasing with snatches of solos. 

I didn’t hesitate when buying the box set. I loved the music so much that then I picked up the t-shirt. Proud to proclaim / advertise my fan-boy status. 

As part of the promotion for both Skintone Edition Volume 1, and the forthcoming Volume 2, Lo Recordings have now organised an incredible global circuit of worldwide, audiophile listening parties, where selections from all of the Skintone albums will be played. In the process raising awareness of Yokota’s brilliant body of work.  I’ll be sure to be sporting said shirt at Tokyo’s Baroom on November 18th, in the hope of connecting with other local devotees. 

Notes:

(1) All my money went on music. In my addict’s mentality, limiting myself to one format, one drug, was a way of controlling my habit. 

(2) We, Ken Hidaka, Max Essa and I, included this hypnotic cut on our Music For Dreams compilation Oto No Wa. 

Susumu Yokota World Listening Tour Dates:

November

4-8 Bimbi-Nilo, Buenos Aires, Argentina

4-8 ESP HiFi, Denver, USA

4-8 XO HiFi, Kansas, USA

5 Oblicuo Hi Fi, Barcelona, Spain

6 Alter K, Paris, France

9 The Little Jerry, Toronto, Canada

10 Public Records, NYC, USA

12-14 Mr Melo, NYC, USA

14 Shibuya HiFi. Seattle, USA

15 Ojas, NYC, USA

16 Curtis Audiophile Cafe, Barcelona, Spain

16 For The Record, Panjim, India

18 Baroom, Tokyo, Japan

19 Million Goods, NYC, USA

20 Electric Pawn Shop, Dubai, UAE

21 Sort Kaffe & Vinyl, Copenhagen, Denmark

27 One Park, Cape Town, South Africa

December

2 Kwia, Berlin, Germany

More events are due to be scheduled throughout 2026.