With a Discogs listing that counts around two dozen bands he’s a part of, witnessing Patrick Shiroishi’s physical-aural presence is like stepping fearlessly into an absolute kaleidoscope that ranges from the more expansive free jazz of SSWAN, to the free improvisation of We Bow To No Masters, through the avant prog of Upsilon Acrux, contemporary composition with Wild Up to the 4D post-hardcore of the mysterious The Armed. And various points in between that contemplate noise, lyricism, ambience and composition. Seemingly disparate coordinates that are reorganised here into a body of work that in this vastness informs a vision of its own made up of all these languages. Or how to be multifaceted without falling into naïve dilettantism. As a solo artist, all these communal experiences come together in a more or less present, more or less hidden way, in a process that has the saxophone as its primary instrument, amidst electronics or field recordings. In a very personal quest, where the shadow of his Japanese heritage looms large, Shiroishi has highlighted the contradictions and attunements of this process of constant questioning, between the weight of tradition, inherent racism and the longing for a communal future – revealed in this collaborative spirit – in such magical records as ‘i shouldn’t have to worry when my parents go outside’ – elegiac environmentalism -, ‘tulean dispatch’ – urgency in the form of circular breathing and extended techniques -, ‘Hidemi’ – where a myriad of saxophones and his voice rewrite the jazz ballad and post-bop influences into a living and moving whole -, or ‘I was too young to hear silence’, which puts the reverberation and silence of a car park in Monterey Park into dialogue with the languid notes of the saxophone and the tiny sparkles of a glockenspiel. Another form of communion. Or just listen to the beautiful ‘A Sparrow in a Swallow’s Nest’, released this year as a single by Sub Pop, and then set off to discover. Great. BS

The Azorean landscape is made up of contrasts, slopes and asymmetries, visible and invisible, embedded in a vast sea that both liberates and imprisons. The best way to observe the tangible and the abstract is from a high point, with a high horizon: the viewpoint.Often a point of interest, a quick visit for the traveller, it also serves the resident from a broader, contemplative, cathartic perspective, confirming the vastness and enclosure of the island.

Música Para Miradouros is the interpretation of these conflicting feelings, at times liberating and celebratory, at others introspective and melancholic. In order to escape the obvious, and accompanied by a film crew (Cactus), unusual locations were chosen, full of factors that contributed to sculpting a specific sound model, with a personal connection to each site. The creative process was developed over several months and the performances took place over four sessions, in different parts of the island, recorded directly onto two-tracks, without the possibility of further editing, musically breaking with any past tradition.

Waking up at dawn, managing the rain and wind, travelling tight roads, carrying a generator, transporting a series of instruments, tables, speakers, setting up filming and photography equipment and, in the end, being able to translate the surrounding landscape into music, was only possible with a lot of dedication, companionship and a great desire to make Música Para Miradouros a reality, capable of transmitting to its visitor the sound vision of a place and a moment.