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The LA fuzzy jazz icon spits out a solo album made in some kind of collaboration with a Japanese clothing brand. The affair is largely centered around his nylon string acoustic, run through a warbly warblizer. That, paired with the limited instrumentation, makes this feel a bit like Monk’s solo piano records or the Charlie Haden and Ornette Coleman duo album, Soapsuds, Soapsuds. Also has a nice almost Miyazaki movie vibe, toys seen through fisheye lenses and flutes zooming away around the periphery.