Notes on the record

The name "In Praise of Shadows" comes from a 1933 Essay of the same name by Jun'ichiro Tanizaki. The essay is a reflection on how at the time, Japanese society was beginning to change rapidly away from traditional ways of life, in favor of more modern, Western sensibilities. In the essay, Tanizaki lamented this change, and instead suggested there is great beauty and subtlety to be found in the traditional, lamp-lit Japanese interiors of his time, a beauty that was in danger of becoming snuffed out by the bright lights and rapid changes of modernity.

In a way, this album is a reflection of this concept, because during it's creation I mostly looked backwards to the past for inspiration instead of forwards.  After years of creating within the lofi zeitgeist, I'd realized I no longer felt inspired by where the genre was heading anymore. The genre, which in the earlier days had inspired me with it's inventive and forward-thinking use of sampling, had mostly shifted to a sample-free, playlist and curator friendly sound, unrecognizable when compared to the underground hip-hop sound that I'd fallen in love with in the first place.

So, Inspired by Tanizaki, I began looking for inspiration in the old, shadowy places instead. In the dusty aisles of record shops in Portland, London, and Tokyo, I began digging for gems of inspiration obsessively, much like a crate-digger would when searching for a sample. While doing this, I re-discovered all of the genres lofi had helped to introduce me to via sampling, such as the jazz harp of Dorothy Ashby, the soaring Italian strings of Piero Piccioni, and the amazing jazz coming out of Japan in the 1970s from artists such as Hiroshi Suzuki and Jiro Inagaki. I realized instead of sampling these artists and turning them into beats, what inspired me more was to just make music directly inspired by these sounds instead, using real instruments and recording sounds to tape similar to these old records. When I felt inspired to make a beat, I mostly turned to older producers for inspiration, such as Nujabes, fat jon, and Pete Rock. While making the album I also began seeking out places that valued these old records as much as I did, such as jazz cafes and listening bars in Japan, where the vinyl record is still regarded with a certain reverence and authority, and you can listen to a full side of a record in relative silence. I became obsessed with these "shadowy" places, these dimly lit interiors stained from years of cigarette smoke where people sit around and listen to a Coltrane record like it's a church service, and savor every imperfection, every record skip and crackle. It was such a refreshing change of pace from listening to music mostly dictated by the whims of the algorithm, and it inspired me immensely.

So, this record is an homage to those shadowy places, to dark spaces, to subtlety, and to imperfection. In this age we're entering into of AI-based music and endless streams of content, I hope I've made something distinctly human, full of personal touches, mistakes, and flaws. It is my dream that one day this record ends up being played in some shadowy listening bar somewhere, record skips and all.