From the moment the first notes of piano are pushed crustward from this sound world, this collaboration more than fulfils my weighty expectations.  Cendre is much closer in aesthetic to Sakamoto’s much-lauded previous collaborations with Alva Noto (on the Raster-Noton label) than to the earlier live recording with Fennesz (also on Touch); gone are Santa Cecilia’s abrasive surfaces, to be replaced by a calmer, warmer veneer. 

Where Noto punctuated the long gaps between Sakamoto’s notes with his imperceptible-to-those-of-a-certain-age high frequencies and clipped morse clicks, Fennesz floods the area around the piano, leaving it an archipelago in deceptively deep waters.  In contrast to the two performances I’ve had the privilege to witness over the last six months (one an all-too-brief solo spot, one a live collaboration with the visuals of Charles Atlas), which veered at times into exhilarating bombast, the Austrian cuts a figure of restraint on Cendre, leaving the guitar for the most part in its case.  Instead, he uses his laptop to create an ebbing ocean of drone, buzz, reverb and crackle, which at no point threatens to douse the glow of Sakamoto’s tender ache; instead it reflects it skyward, refracting as it does from pure white to brilliant colour. 

If Sue Lawley were to ask me for my Desert Island Discs, I’m pretty sure Noto/Sakamoto’s Vrioon would be on there.  That Cendre even merits being spoken of in the same paragraph as that masterpiece should be taken as massive praise.  Cut yourself adrift with it.

Listen to “Kuni” here; check out the Touch shop to get your hands on an actual physical copy of this magnificent record.