MMNLS2E6 Chihei Hatakeyama @ Holocene, Portland, March 2025

An evening of drone, synths, and space.

The rain was back.

It was the end of Portland’s second spring, pulled back to cold wintery dark rainy film noir nights.

Portland Noir captured by @wowhannah

I was excited to meet up with

ASIP

and update each other on our wild 2025 ride,
The lineup was curated by Megalith - Part of Beacon Sound, Part of Megalith Record shop, and Open Avenue Books in Portland.

Arsonist is a local sound maker, he worked up a predictable ambient, noise, industrial set that wasn’t particularly memorable but was a perfect warm up. Wild Card of Cascadia are somewhat of an ambient improv super group - a veteran trio from Portland’s ambient scene. Wild Card’s membership includes established artists William Selman (Mysteries of the Deep, Critique of Everyday Life), Marcus Fischer (12k), and Paul Dickow (who records as Strategy). Three musicians I dearly love and follow, but that night’s performance felt like the most “AMBIENT” stereotype you could imagine. Minimal to the point of obviousness, a little like a sketch on SNL, honestly so disappointing. I’m sorry if this feels like a harsh review, I had high expectations, and maybe it was an “off” night?

But Chihei Hatakeyama was incredible. Born in 1978, from Tokyo he has performed for years under his given name and also as one-half of the electroacoustic duo Opitope, along with Tomoyoshi Date. Hatakeyama polychromes soundscapes with various recorded materials mostly played by hand and processed time and time again via his laptop. His first album Minima Moralia was commissioned for release by the Chicago-based label kranky in early 2006.

Since then his many albums have been released by Room 40, Under The Spire, Hibernate Records, Magic Book Records, Home Nomal, and his own label White Paddy Mountain.

Really moving drones, synths and guitar playing pulled the rain from outside of Holocene into the space, drowning me in a much-needed warmth and space for a Wednesday night. Owning the stage without any ceremony, a super quiet presence behind a desk and tangle of cables, and minimal LED. No greeting, no introduction—just a deep breath and a bloom of sound.

Time stretched. Chord’s sunk in the air, dissolving into static, and reforming. The audience barely moved—heads bowed, eyes closed, bodies quiet in the glow of soft blue stage lights. Outside, the rain kept falling, a gentle percussion against the tin roof, blurring the city.

No encore. Just a slow return to reality, stepping back into the rain, the city felt different. Softer. It’s been a rough March and the echoes of the drones kept reverberating somewhere, just beyond hearing.

Listen/Buy to more

Peace, more soon.

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