Watching the Nightfall with Quiet Resolve
I don’t want to go anywhere. It feels the same no matter where I am. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the outside world and the glamour of Tokyo, my inner self is overwhelmed with a sense of stagnation. Social media continues to sparkle, making me feel like I’m in denial of my enclosed existence. In 2024, the term “brain rot” emerged, perfectly capturing this state of inertia as people mindlessly scroll through reel videos. It seems that everyone has grown tired of this facade. Perhaps, deep down, we are all just exhausted. In such moments, the only thing that can gently lift my spirits is music. There’s no need to push myself to go anywhere; I feel as if the soundscape is telling me that it’s okay to simply be myself.
Towards the end of 2024, a recommendation from a friend in Berlin led me to the third album, “A Soft and Gatherable Star,” by the Bristol trio of Jasmine Butt, Alex Rendall, and Amos Childs, known as Jabu. The beats are predominantly slow, and every element—melody, vocals—exudes a sweet, decadent beauty. As I listened, I was transported into a lush sound world that resonated with my feelings of being an outsider, unable to fully adapt, despite being back in the Japan that raised me.
As I dug deeper, I realized that I had seen Jabu perform at an event organized by Ossia from Young Echo. When I experienced their music live in Berlin during the early summer of 2023, I was unaware of their existence, yet the essence of their sound had already left imprints on my heart, captured like a moment on a film camera. Their work embodies elements of dream pop, yet artfully refers to the trip-hop sound that many fans of Bristol have come to expect, achieving a miraculous balance without any hint of pretentiousness, highlighted by their distinctive twin vocals. Everything began to connect naturally.
As I explored each track, I found that, despite being a trio, they had collaborated with a variety of artists throughout. The second track, “Gently Fade,” features keyboards and synth by Birthmark.The third track, “Košice Flower,” showcases beautiful strings by Rakhi Singh. “Sea Mills” includes both synth and keyboard from Birthmark, alongside cello by Joshua Horsley and clarinet by Rakhi Singh. Additionally, “Ashes Over Shute Shelve” adds clarinet by Memotone (whose Fever of the World album, released the same year, is also beautiful) and poetry readings by Daniela Dyson.
The tracks could easily drift into monotony due to their similar tones, yet the live instrumentation adds depth, successfully depicting emotional fluctuations through painstakingly crafted compositions. The lively beats found in previous works dissolve into an organic soundscape, echoing a texture that transcends the confines of dream pop. It’s worth noting that the album’s title is derived from a poem by member Amos Childs’ father, with another poignant poem serving as the backbone for “Ashes Over Shute Shelve.”
This album evokes a careful examination of swirling emotions deep within the heart. It summons unforgettable, poetic moments that are often beyond explanation. It’s akin to staring out of a window at a city landmark, only to feel as though both my sense of self and the world around me are shifting as well. Living is often not straightforward. I’ve grown weary of pretense and vanity. Therefore, I want to focus on the tangible things right in front of me, cherishing the ebb and flow of my emotions. Jabu’s “A Gatherable Star” encourages such resolve, quietly illuminating someone’s heart as a personal North Star. (Hiroyoshi Tomite)