Beauty

Since the dawn of time, musicians and philosophers alike have theorized about a sound that could unite humanity. Pythagoras dreamt of the “celestial monochord,” John Coltrane spent his last years pursuing a “universal sound” through his horn, while Rosalía sang in 14 different languages to approximate that on Lux. Given the rise in ever-faster communication technologies during the 1980s that seemed to bring everyone in closer proximity, one might perceive Ryuichi Sakamoto’s 1989 album Beauty in this same questing, unifying light. 

But Beauty is also misconstrued as something of a major label failure in Sakamoto’s expansive catalog, a Rolodex-heavy album that didn’t quite reach the same electric peaks of his earlier solo efforts. But thanks to a stunning new vinyl reissue of this album, Beauty’s true uh…beauty shines through. Yes, Sakamoto calls in every favor – from bassist Sly Dunbar and guitarist Robbie Robertson to R&B vocalist Jill Jones and Beach Boy Brian Wilson pitching in on backing vocals – but his combinations now sound bold and intuitive. The seeming clash of Eastern, Mideastern, African, and Western culture dovetails into gorgeous amalgams like the Japanese traditional timbres of “Chinsagu No Hana,” the Youssou N’Dour-assisted “Diabaram,” and eloquent closer “Adagio.” The album no longer feels like a reach for some utopian sound so much as a casting of new light on Sakamoto’s music practice – as well as that of his fellow collaborators – as artists always in pursuit of the ineffable.