Nujabes Leaves Us in a "Spiritual State"

Nothing exists without music, for the universe itself is said to have been framed by a kind of harmony of sounds.

- Isidore of Seville 

In a post earlier this month on Sufjan Stevens, we noted that Christmas and music tend to always go together. But we didn't have time to ask a common refrain of this blog: "Why?"

Much of the association between Christmas and music, it could be argued, is grounded in the interplay throughout history between religious thought and music. Professor of neuroscience Michael Graziano has admitted that music is "united" to religion by its "spiritual quality," and the "reverential reaction" it evokes in him - even though he remains a staunch intellectual atheist.

This interplay stretches back to a medieval principle called musica universalis (or "universal music"), which literally linked the movement of the universe and planets to musical harmony. It was long thought, by this principle, that astronomy, mathematics, and music were all tightly linked somehow - a view strengthened by the prevalent metaphysics of the time, which sourced all intelligibility and beauty in the first cause of all reality, i.e. God. (This idea of the "musicality" of the movement of the physical universe has been explored by some of the greatest filmmakers, including Kubrick and Malick - who we'll be comparing in another post later this week.)

While that concept has waned in the modern world, sometimes artists sniff out and explore the connection - and Japanese jazz and hip-hop producer Jun Seba (or "Nujabes") was just such an artist.

Tragically, Nujabes died last year in a fatal car accident - but his final album Spiritual State, which was just released posthumously, is an incredible testament to the ways in which music can reflect and affirm a spiritual striving toward faith, hope, and love.

The album opens with the title track, a delicate and steady jazz instrumental with a definitively Japanese flavor. But it's the second track, "Sky is Tumbling" (embedded above), which really gets things moving.

A jazzy, driving kick-and-hat drum loop and wavy piano riff underlay the guest vocals of Cise Starr (who was also featured on Nujabes' "Feather"). Cise Starr raps:

Yes the sky is falling chicken little
Don't you love to be 
Screaming out the obvious
But never saying "help me"
Just too much to handle in the world...

Sun still sets 
And the buildings will still crumble
Meek inherit the earth 
The comfort of the humble...
Come closer, I hug you
And say I love you
Just before the sky tumbles


There is a pressing sense of impermanence and transience in the imagery, which references a "final act," crumbling buildings, and a sky falling down on us - but there are also glimmers of the "face of God," and faith in a greater, higher story, an "epilogue" to our passing and fragile lives.

Giovanni Giocondo

In the sax-infused chorus, Cise Starr reminds us of a "joy coming in the morning," echoing the words of Renaissance friar and architect Giovanni Giocondo:

"The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. 

There is radiance and glory in darkness, could we but see. And to see, we have only to look. I beseech you to look!"

Earthly life, on this score, is a kind of womb for some a more perfect realm which we can glimpse and "preview" if we make the effort to seek it out. 

This overarching sense of hope for future glory and transcendence is echoed in a more mundane way in the song "Waiting for the Clouds." In it, guest vocalist Substantial raps about how, rather than trudging through day-to-day life and grumbling, we should infuse the ordinary and bleak moments of the present with the holy light that stems from hope:

Waiting for the clouds to part
Waiting to be out of the dark

If our future's bright
Then the present isn't overcast
And we want it to be over fast

Let's shine

Between these lyrics of faith, hope, and love from the guest vocalists are a handful of Nujabes' instrumentals - which, though wordless, have much to say as well.

The tracks "Rainy Way Back Home," "Prayer," and "Island" are all evocative and soulful tracks - and, like J Dilla's instrumental classic Donuts, are infused with a special beauty and intensity given the untimely and tragic death of the man that created them.

If Nujabes were still alive, many would've likely shrugged off the track "Island" as just a pleasant song to sip a piña colada to while on vacation.

But, knowing know that Nujabes has left us, and that this song is his last musical offering to the world, it transforms into a powerful meditation on our passing existence. "Island" is a reminder that we are all, like the characters in Lost, castaways on a beautiful and bizarre island - but that our time here is limited, and our tomorrow is not promised. It invites us to ponder the possibility of a "mainland" - to think about how we got here, where we're going, and how to get there.

Unfortunately, Nujabes' final album will not be available on iTunes until early 2012 - but if you like what you hear, you can order the Japanese release here.