Rating: 9/10
Japanese folk singer Ichiko Aoba released her eighth studio album, “Luminescent Creatures,” on Friday. Produced under Psychic Hotline and Aoba’s hermine labels, the album is a hypnotic wash of sound and color that instantly transports you to the coasts of Japan and the underwater world of the Ryukyu Archipelago, the place Aoba credits for inspiration.
“Luminescent Creatures” continues the story behind Aoba’s 2020 album, “Windswept Adan,” where a girl is exiled to the fictional island of Adan and encounters and communicates with mystical creatures via seashells.
This album chronicles what happens after the girl and the island suddenly disappear. Like “Windswept Adan,” “Luminescent Creatures” acts as a score to an imaginary film, using instrumentation larger than Aoba’s signature voice and guitar combination. The result is a masterfully crafted album that entrances the listener with a unique blend of harmonies and Aoba’s soothing voice.
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The opening track, “COLORATURA,” begins with an arrangement of piano, harp, strings and a hauntingly beautiful flute melody that evokes the feeling of being deep underwater.
Suddenly, the music blossoms as more instruments join. Aoba’s voice, just barely a whisper, sounds like a breeze over the sea. The instrumentals are reminiscent of choppy waves, immersing the listener in Aoba’s story.
In the second half of the song, there is an unexpected shift. Aoba’s voice takes center stage as the timbre of the instrumental accompaniment smooths out, transforming from rough and corrugated to placid waters.
The song’s closing, similar to its opening, is eerie, showing the duality of the sea – both beautiful and dangerous.
The following track, “24° 03’ 27.0” N, 123° 47’ 7.5” E,” is named after the coordinates of a lighthouse located on Hateruma, Japan’s southernmost inhabited island. The song is a rendition of a centuries-old folk song taught only to the locals.
Aoba’s delicately pure voice floats over an accompaniment of strings, harp and what sounds like a boat horn. The song is short and sweet at about a minute long, yet it displays the deep connection between people and music.
In “mazamun,” one can hear the luminescent creatures that inspired Aoba. It opens with a series of twinkling bells that call to mind those little organisms that live in the ocean.
Sounds redolent of whale songs, another ocean creature Aoba is deeply interested in, fade in and out of the background. The bells merge into one another to become a wave of glimmering bioluminescence.
The fourth track, “tower,” opens with a flowing piano introduction followed by Aoba singing a beautifully twisting melody. Plucked strings enter not much later, adding a whimsical quality to the sound.
Aoba has stated that she takes inspiration from Studio Ghibli movie soundtracks, which is apparent in “tower.” Listening to this song instantly takes you to a world of lush, verdant fields and azure skies with flocculent clouds and bubbling streams. The track closes with Aoba tenderly humming the melody one last time.
“FLAG,” one of the singles released before the album, incorporates Aoba’s honeyed voice and remarkable guitar playing. Similar to the previous track, the timbre of guitar and voice paired with a dulcet melody makes it seem like Aoba is singing a lullaby for your ears alone. With an undulating rhythm, faintly reminiscent of waves lapping gently at the shore, you are bound to be lulled into a peaceful sleep.
The seventh track, “Cochlea,” is a short interlude that features a blend of ringing wind chimes, soft humming, gurgling waters and rippling bells. Aoba casts a spell of pure calm, creating an ambiance that is unique and pleasing to the ear.
Another single released ahead of the album, “Lucifèrine,” integrates Aoba’s voice with an orchestral accompaniment that is both bright and expansive.
Brilliant bells combined with warm notes from strings, harp and piano create an image of sun rays penetrating the ocean’s depths. Akin to “mazamun,” “Lucifèrine” is reminiscent of the glistening bioluminescent creatures in the sea.
It is in the hums of “pirsomnia” that one can hear the continuation of Aoba’s “Windswept Adan.” The song resembles a creature singing from the ocean’s deepest waters.
The effect is unlike anything heard on the album thus far. Leaving her guitar and orchestral-sounding accompaniment behind, Aoba opts for pulses of electronic sounds and an echo attached to hummed vocals instead.
The final track of the album, titled “Wakusei No Namida,” or “Tears of the Planet,” is a fitting ending to an incredible album. Returning to her classic guitar and voice standard, the song is Aoba’s conclusion to the story of Adan. It is unhurried, with her soft vocals bidding the listener goodbye.
Regarding Aoba, there is no language barrier. Her voice, guitar and background orchestrations are enough to display the emotional and story content of her music.
“Luminescent Creatures” is one of the best album releases of 2025 so far. While it is similar to “Windswept Adan,” there is a distinctness to this record that gives the listener a completely different experience.
