Everyone must come to grips with their own mortality one day. The fleeting memories are but a tiny speck in the universe and when facing death, our natural instinct is to preserve those experiences as a legacy. For Ryuichi Sakamoto, his battle against cancer has been a driving force in his musical output for the better part of the last decade. His last album, 2017’s async, was a peek into the somber, meditative state of his mind as he contemplated his diagnosis. Reflecting in a documentary later that year, Sakamoto once again touched upon legacy: “I’m not taking anything for granted. But I know that I want to make more music. Music that I won’t be ashamed to leave behind—meaningful work.” Very few artists have led careers as illustrious as Sakamoto has. A founding member of Yellow Magic Orchestra, he’s helped pioneer electropop as we know it today and has had a prolific solo career venturing into film soundtracks and sporting anthems. There are very few artists in history that match his creative output and influence in electronic music. With a legacy so immovably cemented already, what exactly is the meaningful work that Sakamoto alludes to?
12 comes in the wake of fellow Yellow Magic Orchestra band member Yukihiro Takahashi’s passing earlier this year. As the song titles indicate, Sakamoto had begun recording 12 much earlier but its melancholy feels apt for a man transitioning out of the twilight years of his career. As death closes in, there’s a sense of tranquil defiance in his work. With the weight of his health declining, the typically light tones have a bittersweet sadness to them. Many of the songs on 12 are solitary pieces designed to be minimalistic in reference to those themes. Rarely does a song extend out of its piano melodies and compared to his previous work, 12 features far less enduring motifs. Sakamoto’s own presence is more pronounced here: the first 7 songs integrate his labored breathing underneath the atmosphere. A grim reminder at times, the almost-rhythmic pulse of his breathing acts as a foundation for the songs. Although Sakamoto doesn’t experiment beyond the careful structure he’s laid out, it’s fitting for an album that meditates on his career as a musician.
Though 12 opens with mournful tones on “20210310”, the album gradually shifts towards more reassuring sounds. By the eighth track, the breathing has all but disappeared into the mix with the songs growing shorter and shorter in duration. While the first half seems like a meditative examination of his life, the second half is a reflection on his legacy. “20220302 – sarabande” is one the album’s best tracks as it takes the simplicity of classical influences of Chopin and Debussy to stretch out a lifetime through its short three minutes. With the piano tones inching forward ever-so-slowly, it hearkens to memories of a past life. Though the melodies call for nostalgia and brighter days, there is also a lingering acceptance of fate. Even the gentle major key melodies have an element of dread bubbling underneath. Sakamoto demonstrates restraint here as he never fully veers into optimism or pessimism. 12 is a collection of sentiments from a man who has influenced the world: regret in missed opportunities and delight in accomplishments alike. Perhaps meaningful for Sakamoto isn’t a legacy that will last eternal or an album like Bowie’s Blackstar that communicates a finality. Maybe 12 is just the final piece of a sophisticated puzzle, a work that unfolds itself within the moment. If 12 ends up being the swan song from Ryuichi Sakamoto, it’s but a graceful exit amidst the coming storm. I suspect he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Must Listens: 20211130, 20211201, 20220302 – sarabande
