It’s often a folly to think of modern music as art. Exceptions exist but they are beyond the peripheral; works so simple but presented as complex. Music removed from the mainstream, deemed inaccessible. But it’s odd to separate by these weak definitions. I assume that if you like [MAINSTREAM ARTIST] you can enjoy [INACCESSIBLE ARTIST] when you take the time to find commonality. Actually, low temperature room takes the pain of exploration out of the equation. It follows in the grand emergence of softly sedated musicians taking song craft to its rudimentary form, yet it is not shy about pushing a listener out of their comfort zone in the name of art. The titles are bare bones, telling you how to feel. However, the music betrays the obvious. If you’re a surface listener, all you’ll take from low temperature room is in plain sight. But you learn, just as you will with the [MAINSTREAM] and the [INACCESSIBLE] that they both exist in the same plane. That the terms are interchangeable or frankly, meaningless. Their definitions are attached by lazy hacks and fashion police. 夕方の犬 doesn’t give in to any of it.
More about: 夕方の犬 (dog in the evening)
