Sinsuke Fujidea Group // FUKUSHIMA

Across FUKUSHIMA’s five compositions, saxophonist and flutist Sinsuke Fujieda and his first-rate sextet channel the modal openness of 1970s spiritual jazz while grounding the music in a distinctly Japanese sense of restraint and lyricism. This is not revivalism. It’s lineage work, absorbing the cool, atmospheric gravity of the past and refracting it through a contemporary Tokyo lens.

The intensity stays internal across the EP’s tight, sub-36-minute run. “Fukushima” opens with rolling piano from Shinichi Tsukamoto, clear and unhurried. When Fujieda’s tenor enters, it’s warm and direct. He doesn’t push. The rhythm section settles into a steady current, Shigeru Kato’s bass anchoring the tune while Kensaku Osumi and Daisuke Alkhay shade the edges with light, tactile percussion.

“Float in Oriental Spring” shifts to soprano sax and introduces Fumiko Takeshita’s violin, adding a faint chamber hue that comes into sharper focus on “Nobody Knows,” where violin and soprano intertwine in patient, melodic lines. “Silent Night” tightens the groove, the bass and drums doing the heavy lifting beneath Fujieda’s measured phrasing. Closer “Perspective” is the sharpest cut here. Short, rhythmic, and urgent.

Put this on at sunrise. Or late, when the room has emptied and you’re left alone with the record spinning. FUKUSHIMA, like most great jazz, is meant to unfold on its own terms.