Eiko Ishibashi: “I don’t believe that music can solve anything. But I can’t ignore the world when I’m making music.”

Eiko Ishibashi performing “Gift” at Big Ears 2025 (Photo: Thomas Venker)

The music of Eiko Ishibashi has been with me for years—ghosting between reality zones, ducking genre tags, slipping through jazz, noise, pop, and scores like it’s nothing. Her soundtracks alone (“Drive My Car”, “Evil Does Not Exist”) prove she can sketch out entire emotional landscapes with just a breath of melody or a single recurring texture. But it’s her solo work that keeps pulling me back—always a little sideways, a little out of reach.

At this year’s Big Ears Festival, I finally caught her live, performing alongside the motion pictures of Ryûsuke Hamaguchi. A rare moment where everything clicks and dissolves at the same time. Her latest album “Antigone” (Drag City) fever-dreams history and present into both free political interpretations and private reflections. See my review for Kaput for more.

Originally, this interview was supposed to happen in person in Knoxville, Tennessee, during Big Ears. In the end, we found our shared time zone somewhere between Japan and Germany—by email.

Eiko, let me start with a question about your beautiful live score performance “Gift” at this year’s Big Ears Festival. It’s closely connected to Ryûsuke Hamaguchi’s film Evil Does Not Exist, for which you composed the original score. I’m curious — how do you experience this reinterpretation each time you perform it live? I ask because, as with watching a film multiple times, our feelings and interpretations often shift. Do you experience something similar? And what does that mean for the music you perform on stage during these particular performances?

Eiko Ishibashi: I think this project called ‘GIFT’ started when I began exploring the relationship between film and music with Mr. Hamaguchi. At first, we wondered: Is music really necessary for a film? I feel very lucky to have met a director with whom I can share such a question.
The film is edited by Azusa Yamazaki in a way that makes you lose track of which dimension you’re in. The music shifts along with it. My interpretation and feelings change each time, just like the audience’s. It’s a different experience every time, and I really enjoy that.

For Gift, you don’t just use sequences from the film — Ryûsuke Hamaguchi actually traveled to the region of Japan where you live and filmed exclusive new scenes with the actors, styled like a silent movie. That feels like a powerful statement about how central your music is to his artistic vision. Would you agree?

Eiko Ishibashi: “GIFT” and „Evil Does Not Exist“ are definitely projects that started from my idea. Hamaguchi-san may have wanted to film in the environment where my music was being created, but at the same time, he also wanted a setting where he could shoot freely, especially after the large-scale production of ‘DRIVE MY CAR“.

Did you have any influence on the setting or the narrative of these exclusive „Gift“ scenes?

Eiko Ishibashi: I don’t think I influenced the story itself. I think the dentist, the mountain experts, and the udon shop owners I introduced to Hamaguchi influenced what they say about the area. But I do think my email correspondence with Mr. Hamaguchi over the course of a year may have had some small influence on it

Speaking of which, where in Japan do you live, if I may ask?

Eiko Ishibashi: Yamanashi. (a prefecture located in the Chūbu region of Japan, west of Tokyo; remark by kaput)

And what led you to choose life in the countryside?

Eiko Ishibashi: The dentist in Yamanashi is also an amateur musician, and he often let Jim and me use his studio. That’s actually why I came to this area so often. Jim and I liked it so much that we eventually started looking into moving here.

You’ve collaborated with Ryûsuke Hamaguchi across several projects now. How did you two first meet?

Eiko Ishibashi: The producer of „Drive My Car“ introduced my album „The Dream My Bones Dream“ to Mr. Hamaguchi. He liked it and offered me the opportunity to work on the music for „Drive My Car.“

What do you find most compelling about his films?

Eiko Ishibashi: Of course, I love the story with its intricate conversations, but I also think it’s great that there are always bold staging and tricks. I think there’s something very musical about his films. „The Tohoku Trilogy’“ documentary, in particular, is really musical.

And do you have a sense of what it is in your music that fascinates him?

Eiko Ishibashi: How nice it would be to know that!

In some of your scores, sound plays a subtle, atmospheric role, especially in more minimalist compositions. How do you navigate the balance between silence and sound when working on film scores? Is there a particular philosophy guiding your use of silence as a musical element?

Eiko Ishibashi:I am most afraid of music controlling the emotions of the audience. I believe that silence is more important than music. If music isn’t playing in a scene, we should carefully consider whether it’s really necessary, and if so, what role it should play. Silence, after all, sets the rhythm for the entire film.

Your work often incorporates field recordings and ambient sounds. How do you approach capturing and weaving these natural elements into your music? Do you see them as a way to document specific places and times, or more as abstract tools for creating mood and texture?

Eiko Ishibashi: I don’t often use it in an abstract sense. I use sounds that can be translated into the direction of the music and what I want to express in the piece.

How does your collaboration with Hamaguchi differ from your more work as a musician on your own projects?

Eiko Ishibashi: He makes the final decision!

Has working consistently on film scores influenced your music overall — and if so, in what ways?

Eiko Ishibashi: I think it has, and the films themself has influenced my music.

You’re well known for your music, but it seems fair to say that Hamaguchi’s rising global success has brought new audiences to your work. How do you feel about this increased attention?

Eiko Ishibashi: I appreciate it very much!

How important is audience and critical feedback to you as an artist?

Eiko Ishibashi: I would miss it if it weren’t there at all, but if I don’t receive a good evaluation or response, it doesn’t really change what I do.

Do you tend to work primarily alone, or do you have a circle of friends or collaborators you regularly bounce ideas off during your creative process?

Eiko Ishibashi: Basically, I work alone, but when I make an album, I sometimes ask Jim to listen and give me his opinion.

You’ve worked closely with your life partner and musical collaborator Jim O’Rourke. How would you describe your working relationship?
Eiko Ishibashi: We almost always work separately; he’s used to making music alone. I like to think of Jim as my teacher.

Returning to film scores for a moment — I read that your late father was a huge film fan and particularly appreciated soundtracks. Is that true?

Eiko Ishibashi: Yes, he had a lot of soundtrack records.

What kinds of movies and soundtracks filled the House of Ishibashi when you were growing up?

Eiko Ishibashi: The one by Ennio Morricone, John Barry and Duke Ellington for example.

Would you say your path as a composer, singer-songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist is deeply rooted in your family’s musical background?

Eiko Ishibashi: No one in my family was a musician, but we went to the movies a lot, so I think that influenced me.

Do your parents listen to your music or attend your performances?

Eiko Ishibashi: My parents had no interest in my music.

In a Guardian feature, you’re quoted as saying: “I sort of wanted life to hurry up and be over. I was making music because I had nothing else to do.” Obviously, that was reflecting a particular time in your life — how does it feel to revisit that sentiment now?

Eiko Ishibashi: It’s not exactly the same now, but the feelings I had then haven’t disappeared. It’s just that now I have friends and colleagues to enjoy life with, and I want to do as much as I can of what I want to do—even the ridiculous things.

You’ve worked many different jobs — from a complaints office for Pepsi vendors, to AOL reception, to being a nude model for art classes, to playgrounds and elderly care. Looking back, do you feel those years took time away from music, or were they formative experiences that continue to shape your art today?

Eiko Ishibashi: I don’t know….

Let’s talk about your new solo album „Antigone“, which I loved — and which I recently reviewed for Kaput – Magazin für Insolvenz & Pop as our Record of the Week. In Greek mythology, Antigone — daughter of Oedipus, King of Thebes — famously stands for the belief that no law should override divine justice. Her name even translates as “contrary opinion.” Who or what did you have in mind when you began working on this album?

Eiko Ishibashi: Thank you for listening to the album and writing a review. At first, I just wanted to make an album that worked as background music. But as I was writing the lyrics, I started thinking about those who had passed away—people close to me and people far away.

In the album’s liner notes, you mention that these songs come from inside your own head — shaped by the horror of today’s rapidly changing reality. Is music a guiding force for you through such darkness? And can it carry that kind of emotional weight?

Eiko Ishibashi: I don’t believe that music can solve anything. But I can’t ignore the world when I’m making music.

I tend to over-interpret lyrics — so forgive me for this one. But is the first track “October” referencing the October Revolution of 1917 in Russia, with its violent shift in power? Could it also be linked to recent political developments in the U.S. and their global impact? I’m thinking of lyrics like:
 “Demolish in June / The columns rise up / Ashes fall in August / In October / the blood shines / in October.”

Eiko Ishibashi: It is best not to answer that question. It is better if the listener can think of many things.

It’s not just “October” — songs like “Coma,” “Trial,” and “Continuous Contiguous” also carry a heavy emotional weight. And yet the music — blending jazz, early J-pop, chamber music, and musique concrète — sometimes mirrors that intensity, and sometimes contrasts with it. Could you talk about how you shaped the narrative arc of Antigone?

Eiko Ishibashi: I thought the word ‘Antigone’ was a perfect metaphor to connect what happened near me with what is happening far away. We live in a daily struggle. It is the fate of human beings to live in daily conflict in a reality where the two cannot be separated. However, there is a fear that the social and the personal have become so closely connected that a kind of clarity has become the norm. If there is such a thing as a story, it may be that this kind of fear has shaped it.

You worked on the album with Tatsuhisa Yamamoto, Marty Holoubek, Kalle Moberg, ermhoi, Joe Talia, and Jim O’Rourke. How did their input shape the music? And will they be joining you for live performances?

Eiko Ishibashi: I asked them to listen to me play something like the basics of the song, and they came up with their own ideas. I tell them the rhythmic accents, but I leave some of the finer nuances and phrasing to them.

Heavy themes aren’t new to your work. On The Dreams My Bones Dream, you explored the story of Manchuria — an area deeply connected to Japan’s military past, and to your father’s personal history. How was this album received in Japan, considering the cultural reluctance to confront wartime history?

Eiko Ishibashi: I don’t think this album is widely heard in Japan. But that’s not due to political reasons—it’s simply because I’m not famous here. Lol!

You strike me as someone who doesn’t worry too much about what others think — would you say that’s accurate?

Eiko Ishibashi: Yes, when I was in high school, I was called a recluse.

But since this history is not just national, but also personal — tied to your father — how do you navigate the emotional complexity of bringing that into your art?

Eiko Ishibashi: I take my time and wait until it is converted into something I can express – I take my time in my research and in my search for sounds.

„Evil Does Not Exist“ moved me to tears — not just because of the story, but because your music hit something so deeply emotional. May I ask: what was the last film that stirred you like that? And why?

Eiko Ishibashi: „The Beast“, by Bertrand Bonello. I think it is a beautiful depiction of what kind of beast a very small anxiety can become.

Eiko, thanks so much for your time and efforts here. Is there anything else you wanna share with the kaput audience?

Eiko Ishibashi: I would be happy if you could enjoy „Antigone“ in loud sound on vinyl if possible.