The Cockpit

“Have you already played an instrument? – No. – Me neither.” But the instrument of the young Japanese hip-hop musician, OMSB, consists of sixteen square buttons on a console wired up to a vinyl turntable. The film rarely steps out of his cockpit, a tiny studio in Tokyo. With an uninterrupted focus on the youngster tapping away and on his catchy neck-swaying, the film invites us on a mental journey. How do you get “this seagull-like impression” or balance a Mahalia Jackson tune and a kick taken from elsewhere? The repeated reworking of a single sound recalls others, and his musician friend Bim remembers the sound of a chum’s bone breaking at a football training session… The birth of a beat is recounted by mixing sitcom and installation, while the background shots of visiting friends visually embody the fluctuations between the ready-made and the creativity specific to sampling. Soon the collaboration becomes more intense as Bim dances to the rhythm of each sample as if his body was testing its effectiveness, then lends a hand for the lyrics of the new piece. The penultimate sequence of the film, featuring a Nike shoebox as its main character, re-introduces the playful side of this type of re-creation. The confinement and serialism propel a long-awaited outing, and the final tracking shot by the river finally allows the music to open its wings, in the open air. (Charlotte Garson)