Tsuneyoshi's main musical partner this time around is Yuki Nishimura, who contributed some backing vocals to the Cosmic Voyage EP, and the result is another sparkling set of electro-pop-influenced melancholy. Color Filter's regular habit of including an intriguing cover version pays off in spades here with the choice of the Pink Floyd semi-obscurity "Fearless," originally off the Meddle album. Here it becomes a half-gauzy, half-twinkly song perfectly suiting the Color Filter aesthetic, actually not too far away from what My Bloody Valentine did to the James Bond song "We Have All the Time in the World." As for the rest of I Often Think in Music, its energy level at times is Tsuneyoshi's loudest ever -- certainly opening track "Whole Galaxie" kicks off with (for him) some heavily orchestrated bombast, if nothing else undercutting expectations while still sounding very much like Color Filter. Perhaps there's a touch less of the fragility of Sleep in a Synchrotron and more liveliness all around -- it's not Color Filter goes Pizzicato Five or Cornelius, say, but there's a definite sugar rush at points. Even at its most active, though, there's at least a hint of the heavy-sigh moods that make other Color Filter releases so deliciously addictive, even if it's only in the soft crooning of Nishimura and company. When I Often Think lets go into perfect slow downbeat elegance, meanwhile, it's just perfect -- the descending piano chords and shuffling beat of "Texture of Dub," Nishimura's singing a lovely counterpoint, or the ever-so-appropriately titled "Blue," a bath in sweetly sad, Cure-influenced sound all around. Tsuneyoshi's always apparent musical perfectionism again fully applies -- all instruments and arrangements are his, and there's little doubt that every last sudden edit or switch and bit of echoing shimmer is exactly where he wants it to be. The numerous '60s TV/movie samples also provide amusement -- The Prisoner, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Dr. Strangelove all turn up at various spots.
I Often Think in Music Review
by Ned Raggett