Artist Introduction: Noman

The sun glares through an overcast sky. A boy and a girl run through a field, filling the air with sweet laughter. Their small hands jostle the long grass flinging fallen rain hither and yon. Barely existent raindrops slip through the air and peck their skin. On a distant stone wall sits their mother, reading a book. Often, she sings her children lullabies before they sleep, but today her children sing her a joyful lullaby of their own. Behind the wall, their father rummages in the engine of a broken Ford, seeking solutions. They arrive slowly and with great effort. The father huffs and laments a fading ambition. His lament is broken however as his children’s lullaby reaches him as he watches over them. He looks over to the wall and sees his wife and the peace he sees on her face sets him at ease. She shoots him a radiant smile. He smiles and winks back at her lovingly.

This is the music of Noman. In the progressions of his acoustic guitars you can hear the laughter of the children, in the resonance of the strings are the dripping droplets on the grass, in the relaxed tempo is the peace of the mother and father. At once Noman’s music is completely innocent yet peacefully bleak.

Noman is one of those musicians who could easily write pop hits and dominate the charts if he wanted, his comprehension of musicality is obviously not wanting. But instead he has opted to make whimsical and wonderful little pieces that can bring you complete serenity or hold an uncomfortable mirror up in front of your reality.

He may actually be some kind of musical Bob Ross. An artist who revels in the wholesome but is never afraid to be honest and say that sometimes life is shit. It’s like taking a children's colouring book and painting it with a full pallet of gorgeously arresting watercolours. He makes it look like the pop stars are finger painting while he’s out here with a full and flowing colour-wheel giving you everything he’s got.

Come watch Noman play on April 3rd at Shimokitazawa Half Moon Hall.