“The single long track that makes up the recording begins with harmonica, vocalizations… [and] grunts. Captured in stereo you can hear the staggering clip-clop of the artist stalking the stage, allowing his performance to dictate his next move in real-time. The following snatches of breath are hissed across the reed of his alto, contrasted against the near-silent creak of the assembly. Gradually the hiss becomes a throaty shriek, like a bullfrog thrown into a pot of boiling water. Reverberations multiply, disseminate. The low rumble of exterior conveyance, the clearing of a throat, all engage within the amalgam. Paint-peeling sirens steeped in passages of clairvoyant blues, split into movements by dint of silences that trace the setting like a plaster cast. A photographic negative. Muttered monosyllabic pleas, scrapes, movement obscured by time and distance. Long removed from concrete existence, an incidental carbon transfer. It’s the sound of a ghost dragging its chains.” -Nick Metzger
“Often compared to Japan’s other harrowing, insistent solo performer Kaoru Abe, the pair do show similarities in “style” as well as instruments deployed (sax, harmonica, sometimes guitar), but their performance modus differs greatly. Where Abe tended to stand still and squeeze out rusty blasts of music shards, Urabe places strangled blasts and short, melodic fragments into a framework of near silence. Long stretches of it. … Here we are provided only with Urabe’s sparse but intense sax, harmonica and chains (!), with the added occasional vocal interjection. It’s puzzling at first, but sink in and you’ll soon be taken on a harrowing ride. … Consider this then a postcard from the subtle realm where complete commitment meets shades of madness in a near silent space. A small whirlwind in a box.” -Jeph Jerman