So many words that begin with the letter S come to mind when I listen to this.  Perhaps I shouldn’t bother with the review, and should just post my suggested script for an imaginary episode of Sesame Street (the one where the door to puppet hell is opened after someone stencils the number 666 onto the Grouch’s stomach).  Perhaps I’m inspired by the ssssssssssssssss of the sea, much in the way that Christopher Willits and Ryuichi Sakamoto were inspired when they shared studio space to create the superb Ocean Fire.

Aside from his lengthy solo discography, Sakamoto has some form as a collaborator with electronic musicians.  His split-credits with Alva Noto set new standards in the minimalist scene, and many superlatives were spilled in the direction of Cendre, his duo record with Christian Fennesz.  While Willits may not yet share the status of those two, he has produced some striking work in recent years, not least the sumptuous Surf Boundaries.  However the strength of their collaboration on Ocean Fire is such that it deserves to be spoken of in similar tones. 

The secret of the album’s success relates to the striking symbiosis on display.  It is  surprisingly difficult to discern the split between the pair’s synergistic roles, like separating two co-mingled streams.  Unlike Cendre or Vrioon (say) you can’t draw a line between Sakamoto’s piano and the collaborator’s soundscapes; it isn’t that simple.  They join together on laptop to shift their source material out of the studio and into the sea.  Snatches of melody swirl amongst sand kicked up by eddies while rhythms synchronise with the waves snatching at the shoreline. Strange sounds – scrapes and so on - attract shoals of submerged bass notes. Surface textures shimmer and sparkle before storms scatter the sunlight and scour the seabed. 

Swim over to 12k to score some of these fruits de mer (listen to “Toward Water”, then purchase) for this is a sublime, stunning success.  Oh shut up Scott.  Ca suffit, surely.