Lineage
Shigeto
Ghostly
International.
SCQ Rating: 82%
Ghostly
International has nurtured a surprisingly prolific relationship with Zach
Saginaw since signing him in early 2010. With a smattering of digital-only EPs
and one full-length under their belt, this partnership has resulted in a bevy
of original Shigeto compositions inspired by Saginaw’s family history and
nearly as much material remixed by or for the label’s formidable roster. Back
when Shigeto’s white-hot inspiration was but a spark (with his Semi-Circle EP),
Saginaw included a remix of Mux Mool’s ‘Morning Strut’ entitled “Shigeto’s
Wakenbake Edit”; little did we know how much Saginaw’s style would come to
compliment the chilled-out notion of a stoned morning on one’s own.
You see Lineage
doesn’t extract this carefree attitude strictly on the merits of its shuffling,
retro-fresh jazz leanings. Much of what distinguishes Shigeto’s latest
mini-album lies in technique, probably the last thing his previous work showed
any lacking in. But whereas Full Circle and What We Held On To EP sometimes
favored the kitchen-sink approach of constantly revitalizing a composition with
new ideas, Lineage’s technique is focused and ultimately matured. The
meditative air permeating ‘Ann Arbor Part 3 & 4’ allows its electronic keys
and shuffling beat to bend without transforming altogether which, like the
soul-infused Boards Of Canada drone of ‘Please Stay’, feels entirely subdued
next to Shigeto’s typical chaos.
Besides laying down
head-nod approved beats with sustained melodies, Lineage thrives on an organic
palette of resonating electric piano, warm organ and, most importantly, a
percussive sensibility that bridges hip hop to jazz. From the freeform workout
alone that ushers in the psychedelic flourishes and spastic beats of ‘A Child’s
Mind’, it’s clear that Shigeto has struck a particularly lush groove this go
around. Is this another teasingly short entry in Zach Saginaw’s speedy
evolution? Sure. But unlike past enticements that exhausted as often as they
thrilled, Lineage proves instantly re-spinnable; the sort of album that seeps
into the sludgy atmosphere of a February morning and enlightens everything.
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