From my residency at Paradise AIR in Matsudo, Japan a mixture of modular eurorack synthesiser performances recorded in the unique decommissioned Love Hotel above a Pachinko parlour
The EP is available on all streaming and major sales platforms, so check out Steve Angstrom – Matsudo
Track List
Between Stations [7:32]
I spent countless hours riding the trains in and around Tokyo, especially when travelling in from Matsudo which is a city in Chiba prefecture just on the outskirts of Tokyo.
These trains connect the metropolis, bringing people together in a collective solitude. Each person was absorbed in their own world—earphones in, eyes fixed on their phone, game or manga. It struck me how, from early morning until late at night, the only interruptions to this shared silence were the occasional station jingles and the clear, precise announcements: “The next station is Akihabara, the doors on the left side will open.”
As these trains journeyed out beyond Tokyo’s bustling core to the quieter cities where most workers live, I noticed something almost dreamlike about the passengers. It was as if they were no longer present, having drifted into the pages of their manga or the screens of their virtual games. The long ride through such a vast metropolis took on a trancelike quality. This piece captures that experience.
The video above is of me recording the piece, overlaid with some videos I took on those journeys.
Still in the Game [6:27]
I stayed and worked at Paradise AIR, located above a Pachinko parlour that filled the air with constant noise—roaring, tinkling, screaming—day and night. From the stairwell, I recorded the ambient sounds as they echoed through the concrete stairs. One night, as the place was closing, the noise softened more than usual. The rush of tokens and the chimes of overlapping melodies carried a melancholic tone. I grabbed my synth and recorded both the sounds of the parlour through the steel fire door and my own interpretations.
Alone Together [7:00]
We walked through the streets of Matsudo during the Obon festival, commemorating the death of my mother-in-law from the week before. After creating a small paper lantern decorated with commemorative images, we brought it to the river, where the residents released their lanterns to float downstream. At the end of Obon, people set lanterns afloat in the nearest body of water, allowing the spirits to return to the other world.
At the end of the stream, a cultural festival gave us the chance to celebrate and reflect on what has passed and what lies ahead.
Something Lost [13:27]
In Japan, I struggled with my Parkinson’s, having started new medication just before the trip and then facing the intense, humid summer heat. I had been warned, but during the first week, I found myself wondering, “Can I handle this?” The overwhelming sensations came not only from the unfamiliar Japanese psycho-geography but also from within. I no longer felt like the man I expected myself to be. Old certainties slipped away. My emotional state grew turbulent as the effects of the medication fluctuated. And in the heat of the Japanese summer, I felt like I lost something.
I hope you enjoy this small collection of work from an inspirational stay in Japan. Many doors opened (and a few closed). I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
