Unknown publication.
The initial phase of the newly sinewy arrangement of 'Art Of Parties' heralds the new way the funk flirtation has passed, with a heavy absorption of recent Oriental electronicana and not so recent traditional elements having taken its place.
It's no longer of any consequence as to whether the eternal Numan/Sylvian/Ferry triangle overlaps, it's as though David & Co have transcended to another plane. Up to you to say whether it's higher.
In Talking Drum there resides a staccato percussion reminiscent of Takahashi; in the poignant 'Ghosts', ethereal Sakamotoid synth. The distinction is a balladeering Sylvian, doubly introspective, his rich tones contrasting with stark Koto-like electronics.
"Just when I though I could noo be stopped / When my chance came to be king The ghosts of my life blew out into the Wind". Self analysis, already.
'Canton' consummates the fascination with the enigmas/austerities of China, a thoughtful melange of full-blown tribalism fused with ethnic synthetics. Sylvian loves his themes and this one threads through like the mother lode, achieving the precise interlocking elements essential to conjure up yellow magic.
'Still Life In Mobile Homes' veers towards the avant-garde end of Nipponpop: jazzy, atonal keyboards, tasteful smatterings of Frippish guitar, a smearing of plush, lush melodies, slipping into 'Visions Of China'&emdash; dancier, chunkier, slippery-slidier, flexing funkier muscles. More chimes, more pure plucking. Red Army calls 'Cantonese Boy' the one who bangs his tin drum. It's a cleansing experience that reflects Japan's quiet discipline. Haunting but sensually pleasing. Calming and carefully structured, but ultimately maintaining the balance between cold calculation and human feeling.
And that's what touching the right nerves is all about.