Satomimagae

The themes of connectedness vs individualism that arise on Satomimagae’s new album Taba feel pretty prescient to our current societal state. Musing on how groups are perceived and how the hues change once individual members are peeled away, the album pulls its focus through a Monet blur of brush strokes in an attempt to find pinpricks of light among the darkness. A series of vignettes that wash over the listener in pastoral clarity, Taba’s soft strums, windswept flutes, and pensive vocals create a backdrop that’s easily caught on the wind but heavy enough to blot out the sun from time to time.

Hung on Satomi’s wistful guitar and whispered vocals, the record has a personal, diary-like feel. It’s a cousin to private-press folk records from the ‘70s, but it holds court with the kind of ethereal aughts entries like Tenniscoats or Islaja. Lost in the sun-flicker and fog of early mornings, the songs on Taba become more than just words and music. Taba is an atmosphere, an enchantment that catches the listener in its gossamer web. A perfect accompaniment to walks without agenda or decoding the light that filters through the leaves.

Support the artist. Buy it HERE.