II = II by Sara Udon is like catching lightning in a dark room: four artists embracing a single concept, stretching and kneading it, sometimes pushing it into smoky abstraction and sometimes allowing it to bloom with startling clarity. The album was recorded in one take in Osaka’s Icecream Studio and captures the warmth, tension, and fragility of real-time composition. You can hear the room breathe. You can hear the artists’ trust in one another.
The ensemble of artists creates an otherworldly yet deeply human universe throughout four long-form pieces. The beginning appears like a mirage: Yuki Nakagawa’s cello hums with misty sweetness, while Conrad Standish’s drum programming creates a relaxed, hypnotic pace. Sam Karmel’s electronics flare at the margins, creating a moving membrane through which the others travel. It’s music that feels alive, as if carved from vapour.
By the second track, KAKUHAN’s percussive impulses become more defined. Koshiro Hino’s sampler draws on a rhythmic vocabulary that feels ritualistic—Noh theatre minimalism reimagined through a futuristic IDM lens. The sound becomes discordant, rich, and hallucinogenic, but it remains controlled and intentional throughout. There’s a sense of shared breath here; even during the album’s most tumultuous moments, no one dominates the room.
The third piece swings toward haze and swagger, with bass notes curving like smoke rings and electronics muted at the edges as if softly melted. It’s more of a discussion than a composition, with each artist leaving space and listening intently. There’s a particularly striking moment when Yuki Nakagawa’s cello offers a gentle, wavering note that seems to invite Conrad Standish’s subdued drum programming into a quiet dialogue. As these sounds converse, Sam Karmel’s electronics softly interject, echoing the cello before retreating, creating an audible call-and-response that encapsulates their collaborative spirit. The album’s primary concept is pushed to its limits on the final track, a tribal, mysterious piece that almost melts into stillness before returning in a final, resonant swell.
If this is the end of CS + Kreme, they leave gracefully, integrated into KAKUHAN’s fearless improvisational energy, creating something unique and strangely lovely. II = II is more than just a collaboration; it’s a memory of genuine connection archived forever.
