Satoko Fujii Orchestra Tokyo – ‘Kikoeru, Tribute to Masaya Kimura’ (2018)

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The last time the Satoko Fujii Orchestra Tokyo got together to record it was to bid farewell to their late guitarist Kelly Churko, in a tribute to his intrepidity that left a large impact on the band. Nonetheless, this large ensemble — like all of the numerous Fujii’s projects — are about pushing forward, to use past schemes as foundations for new inspirations. And such is the case for Peace‘s successor, Kikoeru, Tribute to Masaya Kimura.

But as the title reveals, this Libra Records album is also a paean to a fallen member: Masaya Kimura played tenor saxophone in the band and later in the year that Peace was released, he passed away as well. Once again, Satoko Fujii turns personal loss into art, harnessing her gift for portraying the human spirit with such accuracy and poignancy through her music.

Fujii is a master of deceptive simplicity: during “Amadare” she scores repeating chords but in rhythmic patterns that seem random but are actually following a staggered pattern. That perfectly sets up trumpeter Natsuki Tamura’s weaves and bobs around it. The opening stirrings of “Farewell” are the first real sense that there is a 14-member ensemble performing (not including the group’s namesake, who serves as conductor and primary composer), and the majestic arrangement ultimately gives way to a Kenichi Matsumoto tenor sax feature that sends off Kimura in a most appropriately personal way as well as Toshiki Nagata’s heartfelt bass solo.



The volume might be tamped down on “Kikoeru” but the nuance is amped up. Toshihiro Koike manages to turn his trombone into a delicate instrument of winsomeness. A fusillade of brass takes the mostly hushed song into a raucous moment but that turns out to be a precursor for Daisuke Fujiwara’s tenor sax discourse.

The full forces of all those horns are unleashed for “Neppa” (which means ‘heatwave’ in Japanese), a blast of an opening statement followed by some danceable funk that underpins incendiary solos from Sachi Hayasaka (alto saxophone), Takao Watanabe (trumpet) and a particularly puckish one from Yasuyuki Takahashi (trombone).

The last two performances were composed by Tamura. “Stop And Go” is boisterous out the gate, and Akira Horikoshi is taken off the leash, going free-form before settling into a groove that the horns playfully exploit. “Ah Dadada,” with its abundance of grin-inducing goofiness, is a product of the wit of Tamura, who reminds us that even in the avant-garde/experimental arena, one should never take himself too seriously.

In case you didn’t get the news, Satoko Fujii had used the occasion of her 60th birthday to gift her listeners with an album a month over 2018, each showing a facet of her wide-ranging artistry. Kikoeru, Tribute to Masaya Kimura completes the year-long celebration with the same inventiveness, grace and genius shown throughout the entire series.


S. Victor Aaron