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Still Way †
satoshi ashikawa Lyrics
No lyrics text found for this track.
The lyrics are frequently found in the comments by searching or by filtering for lyric videos
The lyrics are frequently found in the comments by searching or by filtering for lyric videos
tomaski
Meeting
The air is warm, and dark, and damp. An air of suspicion and necessity hovers around the close, labyrinthine streets; the few people awake at this time moving as if caught carrying out forbidden and secret aspects of their lives, disappearing around corners, out of sight, locking themselves behind shutters and diving into busses and trams that clink and shudder, exuding their dim spotlights of consciousness in the thick glowing blackness of the night. Turn to see them and they are gone. A watching presence lingers...
Mysterious figures read from a newspaper by the light of their cigarettes, four… five people, crowded round another who holds it at arms length so they can all take it in, all of them with little orange glowing lights held in their lips, puffing out a communal cloud of smoke that slowly diffuses into the air, sometimes murmuring in warm, chesty agreement. A glimpse of the headline as the newspaper lights up bright orange; only a word or two, set above dense, complicated streams of ink become visible: THE NEUTRAL ENSEMBLE… and a blurred image of a face is caught as a huge cloud of smoke is collectively exhaled, obscuring the scene. Looking back the figures have dispersed, each walking in a different direction; through nearby doors, into just-hailed taxi’s, up dumb juddering fire-escapes, away down the waterlogged street. One turns briefly as he rounds a corner, tucking the paper beneath his arm - a glimpse of a mute, grim face, like the one in the photograph flashes as he ducks out of view.
An old woman dressed in thin, moth-ridden cotton and lace is hunched and staggers along the sidewalk, with two large dogs in tow. They move about her, leashes tangling and unwrapping as they smell the remnants of the night. A tram clatters and rolls up from behind her; the two vertical glass-and-wood halves that make up its rear door fold back on itself, retracting with a clunk. It stops, dead, in the middle of its tracks, nowhere near an official station, and falls silent. The silhouettes on board remain motionless. The woman drops the leashes and walks quickly towards the open door, straightening up as she moves. She hops in with surprising agility and stands under the dim yellow light, holding on to a vertical metal handrail as the tram begins to move. She looks back as she’s drawn away; the dogs take fright and run in opposite directions, leashes skating madly across the floor.
A tall, heavily-set fruit vendor stands outside his shop, wearing large dark sunglasses and thick, rug-like clothes. All of his produce is perfectly arranged in tissue-lined baskets, barely visible in the darkness. No lightbulbs or candles are present; the door to the rest of his establishment is a rectangle of perfect pitch black, pierced at stomach-height by a pair of feline eyes that flash as a taxi sears past, also giving multi-coloured highlight his produce. The sweet, gentle tang of fruit offers itself indiscriminately to all passers-by, should they come. The man stands there with a large, smooth, toothy smile on his face, following any passing sound with gentle movements of his head, buffing the shine of a huge, ruby-red pomegranate with a pristine white rag.
T M
My second Christmas Eve without the scourge of heroin. I come here to find solace that may lead me to many more. <3
Sharon Owens
Hero
Gus Bean
That is wonderful. Be proud
rob gorney
be well
oskarmonk
You are sooo loved
wosslert
So good to read all those comments. There IS hope for humanity.Best wishes to all.
Boadicea
This is beautiful. My son has lived in Tokyo for 14 years and sends me many suggestions of music to listen to and this is my favorite. 🥰
tunismaurice
Montel's introduction is priceless, thank you. Ashikawa's music is incredibly sophisticated, with that Japanese talent for fusing the old and the new - besides being a font of solace.
Manafish !
one of the most truly sincere and wonderful albums ever. such a unique and fantastic soundscape
all of them milking with green fleshy flowers
I never heard this record before but I already know that it is one of these very few albums that not only have a meditative sound but really leave space to contemplate. Music to listen to when you just sit there, watching the trees outside, swaying in the wind.