Ogurusu Norihide might be the most extreme example of the compelling new laptop folk genre which several artists in the
Carpark Records stable (see also Greg Davis, Takagi Masakatsu) have been exploring in recent years, falling much nearer to the experimental acoustics of Richard Youngs and Steffen Basho Junghans than the folksy electronic of Boards of Canada or label mate Marumari. Clearly influenced by minimalist composers like Philip Glass and Steve Reich, Norihide's work is obsessed with repetition, variation, and negative spaces, demanding deep listening. A Shinto priest, Norihide seems captivated by notions of cleanliness and austerity in all aspects of his artistry, from his understated jacket designs (his second album, Modern, offers only black serif lettering against a white background) to his penchant for naming his compositions after their lengths. With his 2002 debut album, Humour (Study and I), Norihide introduced his approach of gently tweaked, slightly glitchy meditations on simple acoustic guitar or piano figures. His 2003 follow-up, Modern, veers between dreamy pastoral excursions and overwhelmingly spare experimental passages; it's exquisite, very personal instrumental music which makes for an incredibly introspective listening experience.
Humour (Study and I)