Lighght, pronounced “light”, is both the title and content of a one-word poem by Aram Saroyan. Kishi Baski, AKA Washington-based indie pop artist and multi- instrumentalist Kaoru Ishibashi, is now using it as the title of his second release.
The decision to use this as the title for his second LP is intriguing; there’s none of the apparent simplicity of the poem in his music. It’s busy and up-tempo, almost frenetic at times, but sounds radiant, as if the luminosity intended in Saroyan’s piece was given aural form. From the outset, staccato violin and vocals are spun and layered, to create a glorious anthemic sonisphere that screams of summer.
However, the most wonderful thing about the album is how un-selfconscious it sounds. Saroyan’s poem sparked huge debate, not only about the merit of a one word poem, but also the question of what gives something artistic value at all. Ishibashi seems entirely uninterested in this question; he doesn’t care what you think pop music should sound like, and so becomes more sincere than some of his musical counterparts.
It’s unconventional and ebullient; some of the most straightforwardly jubilant music I’ve heard in a while, and it’s infectious.
Whilst the album fails to maintain these qualities towards the end, this does not affect the experience of the record as a whole.