Hisato is responsible for some of the most breathtaking, delicate and smoke filled guitar playing this side of Loren Connors or the quieter sides of Keiji Haino. Those comparisons perhaps help to give an idea of where Hisato’s work floats, but it’s clear listening to him that his is a very personal musical expression. His is a Tokyo labourer’s blues. It evokes a ghost-like and ephemeral, auroral and sleep deprived trance, his super slow and dreamlike guitar, sometimes lurking in feedback, sometimes barely touched, sketches out briefly heard whispers, exhausted emotional trembles. His vocals, when he drags himself exhausted to the mic, seems both distant and close, and just plain shattered; emotionally, spiritually, physically. In it’s weightlessness, it often feels as if each song has been carried to you on the slightest of breezes, and that a change in the wind would carry it elsewhere. This is Hisato’s first ever performance outside of Japan.