B-Side Guys

Somewhere between watching the Pacific Ocean through colonial windows and sharing Japanese cloud names at highway rest stops, four musicians stumbled into something unrepeatable. “Departed Bird” emerges from those two improvised days at Kobe’s Guggenheim House, carrying the weight of spontaneous creation and the lightness of genuine discovery.

The track floats on Tenniscoats’ delicate instrumental foundation, where Saya and Ueno’s intuitive interplay creates space for Joseph Shabason’s saxophone to breathe and wander. There’s an unhurried quality to the arrangement that suggests musicians still learning each other’s musical language, finding comfort in uncertainty rather than rushing toward resolution. Nicholas Krgovich’s voice enters like morning fog, present without announcement.

What’s remarkable about “Departed Bird” is how it captures the collaborative process within the song itself. The melodic lines seem to pass between instruments organically, no single element dominating the conversation. Shabason’s horn work avoids jazz fusion showboating, instead weaving through the mix like it’s searching for something just out of reach. The rhythm section provides gentle momentum without urgency, understanding that this music exists in liminal space.

The production retains the intimacy of its creation story. You can almost hear the ocean through those century-old windows, feel the weight of limited time and unlimited possibility. There’s a documentary quality to the recording that preserves the magic of improvisation while avoiding the self-indulgence that often accompanies such experiments.

Tenniscoats’ influence permeates every element, their approach to finding beauty in small moments clearly resonating with their Canadian collaborators. The song moves like conversation between friends who’ve just met but recognize each other immediately. No grand statements, just four musicians creating something that couldn’t exist without each specific presence.

“Departed Bird” succeeds because it never tries to be more than what it is: a moment captured, a collaboration that happened once and won’t happen again quite the same way.