POP / Sound tracks: Ryuichi Sakamoto - Edinburgh Playhouse

Mark Wareham
Wednesday 31 August 1994 23:02 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

You never quite know what to expect from Ryuichi Sakamoto. Here is a man who will jump from composing for Bertolucci to recording with Iggy Pop. One minute he's arranging and conducting the music for the opening ceremony of the Olympics; then it's off to the studio with John Lydon. Live, he can be just as unpredictable.

With Yellow Magic Orchestra he would take to the stage in glasses and grey suit, a camera slung from his neck just like any other good Japanese tourist. In 1985, he performed TV WAR, a sci-fi spectacular incorporating video and computer graphics. So it came as no surprise when Japan's premier pop musician ambled on to a minimalist set at the Edinburgh Playhouse with just a cellist and violinist for company.

'I'm a little bit nervous,' he wavered. 'It's my first time in Edinburgh . . . (long, nervous pause) Er, nice to see you, all of you, thank you for coming.' Was the legendary techno-wizard sending up the traditional Western rocker's greeting of 'Hello Edinburgh'? Not a bit of it. He genuinely was suffering from an attack of nerves, the sweetie-pie, and spent the entire concert dropping things and forgetting names. At one point he even broke off mid- ramble, startled by a smoke machine. This, of course, only served to compound audience adulation. By the second number, the brooding theme from Almodovar's High Heels, they were entranced.

Sakamoto's best work is tinged with melancholy, none more so than the dark, slightly menacing score from Sheltering Sky. 'After I finished that,' he told us, barely suppressing the luvvie in him, 'I was so sad I couldn't do anything for six months . . . except watch CNN.' After the Oscar-winning theme from The Last Emperor, a gorgeous sweep of grand piano threaded through with oriental strings, came what he likes to call his 'pop pieces', which are, in fact, jazz-based. Take his composition about cats: a complex yet delicate arrangement packed with surprise turns, including a miaowing violin.

He then found himself in the unusual position of needing to plug his new CD, Sweet Revenge, yet being unable to dip into it since all but one of the tracks utilise guest singers. As he opened his larynx, the reason for the use of voices other than his own quickly became apparent. Sakamoto suffers from what you might call vulnerable vocals. This is a man who will spend up to 20 months in the recording studio perfecting his music, yet he can hardly hit a note. Nor is lyric honing his forte: 'Though I wish I could stay / I must be on my way / Say goodbye now / Don't cry now'.

Then, after 70 mostly exquisite minutes, he completed the recital with a beautiful rendition of his greatest hit, 'Merry Christmas, Mr Lawrence'. It had been a night of flawed genius.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in