Ai Ga Nakucha Ne came at an important time for Akiko Yano. The Tokyo-born songwriter—who debuted in 1976 with the arresting Japanese Girl—had, by the early '80s, more than established herself as one of her country's pre-eminent talents. She was a singular figure in her era's musical landscape—one who distinguished herself from any peers she might've had by way of her emotive voice, knack for auditory ingenuity and, most of all, her inarguable talent for experimental songcraft that never once skimped on the pop hooks.
Her sixth album in as many years, Ai Ga Nakucha Ne was, in some senses, more of the same for Yano; it further showcased the quixotic, playful synth-pop that had always been her calling card but it also progressed her sound, incorporating a trans-continental influence that may have had something to do with the input of British new-wavers Japan, who notably contribute to many of the album's tracks. Fundamentally, though, this set is as uniquely and undeniably idiosyncratic of Yano herself as any of her other albums. Well-written and highly focused, the eleven mostly brief songs which comprise Ai Ga Nakucha Ne in no way suffer from the idle experimentation that hampered the less inspired of its era's avant-pop stalwarts. Indeed, Yano infuses her songs here with her ever innovative touch; they're pop compositions first and foremost, which lends them a crowd-pleasing sensibility that balances well with Ai Ga Nakucha Ne's charming idiosyncrasies.
Re-released on vinyl for the first time in decades, Ai Ga Nakucha Ne reappears on shelves courtesy of the excellent wewantsounds, whose reliably intriguing catalogue includes a solid clutch of other titles from Yano's oeuvre. A consummate reissue label, it shouldn't be of any great surprise to those who've heard wewantsounds' previous output that their release of Ai Ga Nakucha Ne ticks all the right boxes. Pressed as a roughly mid-weight black vinyl LP, the disc did have a few instances of paper debris on its surfaces from the generic paper sleeve but these were easily brushed away and, far more importantly, the playback itself is nothing short of excellent. The noise floor on our copy is extremely minimal and playback is just as impressive, being free of anything more than the most infrequent and minor of background crackles. The mastering is no less impressive; boasting a striking soundstage rich in snappy drums, impactful synthesisers and realistic vocals, this is an album that was clearly well-recorded in the first place—which should be of no surprise considering that Yano co-produced it with Yellow Magic Orchestra's esteemed Ryuichi Sakamoto.
If it's clear, then, that wewantsounds justifiably places stock in great sound quality, it's equally evident from their reissue of Ai Ga Nakuchi Ni that they understand the value of distinguished presentation. Reproducing the original 1982 Japan-only vinyl pressing's lively cover art in full, this stocky gatefold cover impresses with its sharp print definition and bold colours, as well as a new interview with Yano and Steven Jansen found on the inner gatefold spread—in addition to liner notes from (perhaps surprisingly) Mac DeMarco.
Further to that, a handsome Obi strip-style wraparound paper slip is included in the package and a replica of the original pressing's limited edition art booklet is also added to the package. These bonuses only demonstrate the extent to which wewantsounds are willing to go above and beyond in their reissue of vintage rarities. A stirring effort from one of Japan's most respected avant-pop practitioners, Ai Ga Nakuchi Ni is an album well worthy of the renewed interest wewantsounds' reissue will lend it and, in that re-release, the label have pieced together a luxuriant tribute to Yano's singular vision.