1996 | – | – |
01. Warzone 02. Wouldnit 03. Ask The Dragon 04. New York Woman 05. Talking To The Universe 06. Turned The Corner 07. I’m Dying 08. Where Do We Go From Here 09. Kurushi 10. Will I 11. Rising 12. Goodbye, My Love 13. Revelations + bonus tracks including: |
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NOTES: | |
Japanese release of Rising includes Talking To The Universe (Cibo Matto Remix) which features Russell Simins. | |
SONG CREDITS: | |
01. Warzone Music/Lyrics: Yoko Ono Produced/Mixed: Yoko Ono Arranged: Yoko Ono and IMA (Sean Ono Lennon/Timo Ellis/Sam Koppelman) Vocals: Yoko Ono Acoustic and Electric Guitars/Keyboards/Bass/Background Vocals: Sean Ono Lennon Bass/Acoustic and Electric Guitars: Timo Ellis Drums/Bass/Percussion: Sam Koppelman Recorded: Rob Stevens at Quad Recording, NYC Additional Engineering/Chief Assistant Engineer: Chris Habeck Additional Assistant Engineers: Alfred Brand/Wes Naprstek/Mike Anzelowitz Digital Editing: Paul Goodrich Mastered: George Marino at Sterling Sound, NYC Composed and Recorded 1994 © 1994 Ono Music 02. Wouldnit 03. Ask The Dragon 04. New York Woman 05. Talking To The Universe 06. Turned The Corner 07. I’m Dying 08. Where Do We Go From Here 09. Kurushi 10. Will I 11. Rising 12. Goodbye, My Love 13. Revelations + bonus tracks including: Talking To The Universe (Cibo Matto Remix) |
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SLEEVE NOTES: | |
“WHEN MOLECULES RISE, THEY CONVERGE
A playwright, Ron Destro, came to me in 1994 and asked me to write a few songs for his play, “Hiroshima”. He reminded me that 1995 was the 50th anniversary of the Hiroshima tragedy. In his script there is a scene where a little girl tries to fold 1000 paper cranes. In Japan there is a tradition of folding 1000 paper cranes to make a wish. The little girl dies before she is bale to fold all 1000 cranes. I was particularly touched by that scene, and went into the studio. I first recorded “Hiroshima Sky Is Always Blues”, and realized that it was too long to be in a play. “Never mind”, I though. “I should keep recording when I’m inspired”. “I’m Dying” was the second piece I recorded. “Kurushi” was the third. Kurushi, in Japanese, means something like “tormented”, “pained” and “suffocating”. In fact, it’s a very Japanese word, and there is no exact translation in English. When I was recording “Kurushi”, I felt the little girl was me. Then at one point I heard myself saying “Mommy, Mommy, I’m in pain.” I couldn’t believe it. I’m still calling for my mother? Where did that come from? The I remembered my son, Sean, crying “Mommy” in the middle of the night when he was in pain. Probably that’s what we all do. But I haven’t called out to my mother for the longest time. In my minds eye, I saw a large projection of my mother’s face on a backdrop, while I, as a little girl, kept folding the paper crane. Mother was a projection. That’s why I gave up calling out to her, I thought. In the dark booth of the studio, I felt my soul-antenna reaching for her and touching only emptiness. It was sad, but it also made my head clear. I felt alright. Then songs flooded into my head, and I kept writing and recording. The memory of being a young child in Japan during the second world war came back to me. I remember being called an American spy by other kids for not singing the Japanese Nation Anthem fast enough (it’s a slow song, but they suspected that I didn’t know the Anthem too well since I lived in the United States before the war). I remember the severe bombing in Tokyo, hiding in an air-raid shelter listening to the sound of the bombs coming closer then going away, and feeling that my mother and I lived another day. I remember when something that seemed like a piece of B-52’s fuselage fell in our garden with the words “piss on you” scribbled on it. I remember how Count T., my uncle and a Princeton graduate laughingly said to my mother that he would not translate such a word in the presence of a lady. I remember sneaking into my father’s library and looking in the dictionary to find the word “piss”, without success. I remember being evacuated to the country; the food shortage, and starving; going to the next village to find my brother and sister; being stoned by the village kids who hated people from the city, getting anaemic and being diagnosed as having pleurisy; being abused by a doctor, and having my appendix taken out without proper anaesthetics because of the shortage of medicine. I remember how I cried at the end of the war, how bombed out Tokyo looked when I returned from the country on the back of a truck, and what we went through daily reading about the people in Hiroshima. The ones who died of burns went quickly. The ones who died of leukaemia went through a slow and agonizing death. We lived through their death. The I realized that there was a striking similarity in what I went through then and what I am going through now. The city is a warzone. And I now have many friends around me who are facing slow death from AIDS. They are suffering low white blood cell counts exactly as the Hiroshima victims were. I am living amongst my suffering friends, listening to them talk about their fear of death, sometimes jokingly, and other times in anger. I live through their nightmares, not daring to voice my own. The making of the album served as a purging of my anger, pain and fear. I hope it will for you, too. y.o. ’95 © 1995 Yoko Ono” |
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DETAILS: | |
ARTWORK: Design: Al-Eugene Naclerio Cover Photo: Iain Macmillian Inside Photos: Sean Ono Lennon/Larry Bercow BARCODE: [unknown] MATRIX: [unknown] |