Twenty-five years after their first album -- 1995's
On the Love Beach
--
Nagisa Ni Te
still come across as brilliantly innocent and untouched by the vagaries of pop music as ever. Their sound has shifted and evolved gradually and organically over the years to become less folky and sparse to something fuller and more assured sonically. 2020's
Newocean
finds the duo of guitarist/vocalist
Shinjii Shibayama
and drummer/vocalist
Masako Takeda
both stretching out on long, slow sounds of sadness and fragility as well as laying down some of their most straightforward, almost traditional, pop songs. Along with the traditional guitars and drums, they bring in a variety of keyboards, even making them the featured instrument on a few songs. It's certainly a change from their early work, and since the band wended their way slowly and surely as they evolved, the destination doesn't feel forced in any way. The songs that harken back the most to the days of epic songs like "Me, On the Beach" feel the sturdiest at first. The listener is drawn into these long, meandering journeys by the steady pace, the ache in
Shibayama
's vocals, and the jangle of the guitars; it's a peaceful kind of melancholy, and it's something the band have always done very well. Both "Despair" and "Gloom" fit this bill and sound like classic
Nagisa
. The change is that the arrangements are twice as shimmering and full of things like electric piano, skyscraping guitar solos (courtesy of longtime contributor
Naoki Zushi
), and an overall sense of sturdiness that feels new. On "Evil Star," the pulsing Hammond organ and steady push of the rhythm section pair with
's dramatic vocal to give the song an almost
Van Morrison
-esque dramatic impact. "Something Wicked This Sky Comes" bops with an almost funky feeling as off-kilter guitar solos, rippling bass lines, and bumpy clavinet team with loads of backing vocals to make it one of the duo's most non-
sounding songs to date. Along with that, the first song on the record -- the
Takeda
-sung title track -- rumbles along with a sprightly bounce and sunny demeanor that almost crosses over to joyous
Belle & Sebastian
-adjacent indie pop territory. When the distorted fairground organ takes over halfway through the song, it's a moment of gleeful abandon that isn't something one might expect from the band. That being said, there are a couple of ballads that do have all the stark, graceful understatement that was once the group's stock-in-trade, namely "Psalm" and the mistily oceanic ballad "Sign of Soul." The songs tether the band to the past while allowing the rest of the album to billow out in new and interesting ways. This sense of gentle exploration has always been one of the best things about
, and it's truly in full effect on
, which makes for a sterling addition to their catalog. ~ Tim Sendra