There is a distinct, almost chemical alchemy happening with Ryuichi Hayashi and Krokodile latest release, “Turning to Gold”. It summons the specific, drowsy euphoria of staring at a ceiling fan spinning at medium speed on a Tuesday afternoon a suspension of time that feels necessary rather than lazy.
Usually, Hayashi acts as the structural steel within the music industry. He is the guy bridging the gap between Japan and the UK, handling the intense logistics of live production for FLOW during their North American run, or managing sound direction for Melt 4 at Spanish festivals. He deals in precision. He works with powerhouses like MAN WITH A MISSION and prepares stages for the likes of YOYOKA. You expect a man with that resume to deliver music that is rigid, calculated, perhaps clinically perfect.
Instead, you get a sun-flare.
Listening to this single feels oddly like biting into a ripe nectarine over a neighbor’s fence illicitly sweet, messy, and warm. As the bassist and composer here, Hayashi impresses with his band crew Kam Williams, Pablo Flores, and Joel Oldham, together they steer away from their typical noir sensibilities into a radiant “summer breeze” aesthetic. The groove is undeniably his; it pushes the song forward not with aggression, but with a buoyant, hypnotic pulse. It creates a legitimate question in my mind: why does this bassline sound exactly like the color saffron? I can’t explain it, but the synesthesia is vivid.
This is indie rock doused in neo-psychedelic chlorine. It represents a pivot toward joy, capturing the raw, shadowless emotion of simply being okay. It is surprisingly difficult to make happiness sound cool without it becoming saccharine, yet Hayashi achieves it. He uses his vast technical background not to over-polish, but to ensure that “dreamy” vulnerability remains intact.
Does the lightness scare you with its honesty, or does it finally let you exhale?
