Port Entropy by Shugo Tokumaru
LABEL: Polyvinyl  |||  RELEASE: February 15, 2011

To create Shugo Tokumaru, you must envision a world stripped of its pessimism. Since his 2004 debut, Night Piece, Tokumaru’s work has been the stuff of playpens and daydreams—a feat, certainly, considering that the Tokyo-native is at least three decades old. But that naiveté-despite-age is one of the single most important components of Tokumaru’s appeal. It’s why people listen to him. Similar to contemporaries like Lullatone and, perhaps, Sufjan Stevens, Shugo Tokumaru shines because he makes you forget how much of a bitter person you’ve become.

“A large part of Tokumaru’s appeal and success derives from his evocation of a mood—in this case, the informal meandering that one might expect from a guy making music in his bedroom.”

But that doesn’t mean his music hasn’t changed. Over the course of Tokumaru’s young career, each of his albums has evinced, to no small degree, the progression of two main tendencies. Where Night Piece was an album whose charm derived largely from the sincerity and novelty of Tokukaru’s bedroom recording, with each successive albums, Tokumaru’s work has become larger, more ambitious, and, certainly, more polished.

That shift away from his lo-fi aesthetic was, in many respects, an expected one. But was perhaps not as expected was the wholesale shift in tone that Tokumaru has taken. Tokumaru’s work has always been accurately described as “sweet,” “innocent” and “fun”—but tracks on Port Entropy take what were already fairly safe characterizations and cement them beyond reconsideration.

Consider “Lahaha,” by far the album’s standout track. Without a doubt one of Tokumaru’s most masterful songs, “Lahaha” is driving, catchy, and, most significantly, instantly recognizable. Unlike the vast majority of Tokumaru’s previous output, it doesn’t drift or whisper. It is that sense most similar to “Parachute,” the track that somewhat single-handedly set the tone for Tokumaru’s previous album, Exit.

But the standout remarkable nature of “Lahaha” also reveals Port Entropy’s unfortunate truth: there’s so little else to remark upon. A large part of Tokumaru’s appeal and success derives from his evocation of a mood—in this case, the informal meandering that one might expect from a guy making music in his bedroom. Predictably, and with the clear exception of “Lahaha,” Port Entropy doesn’t fight against this seemingly innate tendency. This creates problems because, in the end, the album doesnt feel like it has moved: Tokumaru both begins and ends Port Entropy in his bedroom.

That’s unfortunate, but it doesn’t especially ruin the experience of listening to the album. In fact, Tokumaru’s tendency to eschew movement ultimately makes the whole thing feel more ordinary and more along the lines of what fans might expect from him. Tame, familiar, and rarely electrifying, Port Entropy is simple without being dull, and inconspicuous enough that it’s comforting. Port Entropy is, in short, your bedroom put to song.


REVIEWED BY RICARDO BILTON
RICARDO’S FAVORITE TRACKS: “Lahaha” •  “Straw”

FREE MP3: “Lahaha” (right-click & save)