What: O.L.W.D.T.W, Suzuki Junzo, Cal Lyal vs. Tomo, Ezra Woolnough & Dave McMahon duo
When: Sunday 13th March
Thought that I'd do an occasional entry on a whole concert. Two days after touching down in Tokyo on 3/11, only to be greeted by Japan's largest earthquake since records began, Campbell Kneale played at one of Tokyo's shonkiest (in the most awesome sense of the word) character bars - Gari Gari in Ikenoue. Everyone was still nervy after Friday's quake, which made Gari Gari seem an odd place to put on a gig to me at first. Gari Gari has a flimsy look to it - a plywood shack created in a Tokyo basement. However, the genius of a post-earthquake gig at Gari Gari is that the floor is already so bouncy, that aftershocks can't be distinguished from people walking around.
Junzo Suzuki was up first with a solo noise-guitar set. It was deep, thick and nasty, appropriately like a force of nature, and one of the best things that I've seen him do.
Then Ezra and Dave (who often play at Gari Gari with Cal Lyall as Jahiliyyah) pulled out the single best thing I've seen them do - a cold ambient set with tinges of new age.
Tokyo's first Gaijin of noise Cal Lyall (or second perhaps, if you count Jim O'Rourke) and Tomo pulled back from the loud drone they practice with a drummer as Tetragrammaton. It was a choppy set of acoustic guitar and hurdy gurdy, which really took off when Cal started bowing his guitar.
Finally, Our Love Will Destroy The World topped off a night of surprising restraint with a set of utter excess. Campbell Kneale has reinvented his sound again, and it's great. Starting with duelling Tabla beats, Campbell whipped up a frenzy playing his guitar through what is possibly the best guitar pedal I have ever heard. The set ended with sounds straight out of Bad Comany's "The nine", which finally faded into some killer choral music. It was an ecstatic mash-up, and it worked perfectly.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Diversions #2: A very large earthquake
I'm not sure if it's tasteful to write about today's huge earthquake from Tokyo, given that we were spared the brunt here while near the epicentre, Miyagi-ken was hammered. Given that people in Christchurch are still suffering too, my tales of a slightly inconvenienced Tokyo are probably unnecessary. But despite the lack of damage to most of Tokyo, this was a major quake even here.
On the 7th floor of the building where I work, Tokyo locals were saying that it was the largest earthquake they had ever felt. It was the first time I've felt compelled to slide under my desk during a quake, and also the first time a quake here has been treated with anything other than nonchalance by the Japanese people who I work with. A few days earlier my boss had assured me that our building was one of the strongest in the university - built with thicker concrete to keep vibrations as low as possible for the experiments, but images of the CTV building in Christchurch played through my mind as the shaking continued to get stronger and books started falling of the shelves.
After the quake stopped, and after the first few big aftershocks, I decided to go home to help I. clean up the house, where plates and glasses had apparently been smashed. (She didn't tell me that a large shelf had toppled over right where my head would have been if the earthquake had have happened while I was sleeping at night).
The phone system was overloaded and useless (still is some 6 hours later), but email was still working a treat. I managed to receive sms's, have gchats with numerous people and write a bunch of emails all in spite of the non-functional cell phone voice network. It sure is nice to be connected when disaster strikes.
The Keio line had stopped running, so to get home I had to trek the 15 kms from Chofu to Koenji - mostly up Koshu-kaido ave. one of the main routes from Shinjuku to West Tokyo. There were no signs of damage anywhere - the worst I saw on my hike up Koshu-kaido was a few broken tiles on an old house, and a single pane of broken glass in an apartment building. Some 40 minutes after the main quake, the security at a Pachinko parlour apologized to their evacuated patrons and started herding them back in to the building. Shops were open, although mostly empty of customers. People whispered that it hadn't been "the big one". Despite this normalcy,
small signs appeared that it was not a normal day. Large queues formed to use the toilets at convenience stores as people walking home got caught short. Chofu's surreal mass communication speaker system came online to convey a message so distant sounding and echo-laden, that I couldn't make out a word.
The effect on Tokyo's rail system was an almost total shutdown. Half way up Koshu-kaido, a trickle of people walking in the opposite direction turned into a torrent worthy of Shinjuku station. Roads that were usually free of pedestrians were clogged with them particularly if they corresponded to train routes (Koshu-kaido follows the Keio line, Inokashira-dori follows the Keio-inokashira line; both where thronging like Centre-gai on Friday night). Some people wore hard hats which made me feel nervous (and slightly jealous that their companies valued them enough to provide them with protective head-gear!).
After three hours, I finally made it to Meidaimae and picked up my bike, which had a flat tyre. After pumping it up at a police station, it took me another 40 minutes to finally get home.
Apart from a nasty refinery fire and a collapsed roof in a mall, it looks like Tokyo escaped relatively unscathed this time. Tokyo locals fully expect the Kanto region to receive massive damage in an earthquake in the next 30 years though, so the respite this time is more cause for nervousness than relief. The aftershocks (coming once every 20 minutes at the moment) will probably cause some trouble for the trains over the following weeks. Still, after seeing footage of the Tsunami enveloping broad swathes of land in Miyagi-ken, thinking of the numerous dead in the latest earthquake to hit China, not to mention the unimaginable awfulness of Christchurch, I can't help but feel pretty lucky right now.
Added 3/12: I remembered that one awful part about my walk home was how crazy it seemed to make some people. The worst thing I've seen with my own eyes by far in Tokyo after the quake was a driver speeding through an intersection after the light turned red and nearly ploughing into a woman crossing the road. I've never seen such appalling driving before in Tokyo. I also remember an old man clutching a post on the pavement as a tide of people flowed past. I wondered who would help him. (My own pathetic excuse was that I was going the opposite way, and I doubt an Ojiisan would understand my funny sounding Japanese). A lot of other old people must have been lost and scared in the confusion.
On the bright side, Ganesha curry house is still standing despite being one of the flimsiest looking wooden stalls in Harmonica-street in Kichijoji.
Lastly, please excuse the lack of links; pretty bad form in a blog, but there doesn't seem like much point at the moment. And we've all seen enough tsunami porn already, right?
On the 7th floor of the building where I work, Tokyo locals were saying that it was the largest earthquake they had ever felt. It was the first time I've felt compelled to slide under my desk during a quake, and also the first time a quake here has been treated with anything other than nonchalance by the Japanese people who I work with. A few days earlier my boss had assured me that our building was one of the strongest in the university - built with thicker concrete to keep vibrations as low as possible for the experiments, but images of the CTV building in Christchurch played through my mind as the shaking continued to get stronger and books started falling of the shelves.
After the quake stopped, and after the first few big aftershocks, I decided to go home to help I. clean up the house, where plates and glasses had apparently been smashed. (She didn't tell me that a large shelf had toppled over right where my head would have been if the earthquake had have happened while I was sleeping at night).
The phone system was overloaded and useless (still is some 6 hours later), but email was still working a treat. I managed to receive sms's, have gchats with numerous people and write a bunch of emails all in spite of the non-functional cell phone voice network. It sure is nice to be connected when disaster strikes.
The Keio line had stopped running, so to get home I had to trek the 15 kms from Chofu to Koenji - mostly up Koshu-kaido ave. one of the main routes from Shinjuku to West Tokyo. There were no signs of damage anywhere - the worst I saw on my hike up Koshu-kaido was a few broken tiles on an old house, and a single pane of broken glass in an apartment building. Some 40 minutes after the main quake, the security at a Pachinko parlour apologized to their evacuated patrons and started herding them back in to the building. Shops were open, although mostly empty of customers. People whispered that it hadn't been "the big one". Despite this normalcy,
small signs appeared that it was not a normal day. Large queues formed to use the toilets at convenience stores as people walking home got caught short. Chofu's surreal mass communication speaker system came online to convey a message so distant sounding and echo-laden, that I couldn't make out a word.
The effect on Tokyo's rail system was an almost total shutdown. Half way up Koshu-kaido, a trickle of people walking in the opposite direction turned into a torrent worthy of Shinjuku station. Roads that were usually free of pedestrians were clogged with them particularly if they corresponded to train routes (Koshu-kaido follows the Keio line, Inokashira-dori follows the Keio-inokashira line; both where thronging like Centre-gai on Friday night). Some people wore hard hats which made me feel nervous (and slightly jealous that their companies valued them enough to provide them with protective head-gear!).
After three hours, I finally made it to Meidaimae and picked up my bike, which had a flat tyre. After pumping it up at a police station, it took me another 40 minutes to finally get home.
Apart from a nasty refinery fire and a collapsed roof in a mall, it looks like Tokyo escaped relatively unscathed this time. Tokyo locals fully expect the Kanto region to receive massive damage in an earthquake in the next 30 years though, so the respite this time is more cause for nervousness than relief. The aftershocks (coming once every 20 minutes at the moment) will probably cause some trouble for the trains over the following weeks. Still, after seeing footage of the Tsunami enveloping broad swathes of land in Miyagi-ken, thinking of the numerous dead in the latest earthquake to hit China, not to mention the unimaginable awfulness of Christchurch, I can't help but feel pretty lucky right now.
Added 3/12: I remembered that one awful part about my walk home was how crazy it seemed to make some people. The worst thing I've seen with my own eyes by far in Tokyo after the quake was a driver speeding through an intersection after the light turned red and nearly ploughing into a woman crossing the road. I've never seen such appalling driving before in Tokyo. I also remember an old man clutching a post on the pavement as a tide of people flowed past. I wondered who would help him. (My own pathetic excuse was that I was going the opposite way, and I doubt an Ojiisan would understand my funny sounding Japanese). A lot of other old people must have been lost and scared in the confusion.
On the bright side, Ganesha curry house is still standing despite being one of the flimsiest looking wooden stalls in Harmonica-street in Kichijoji.
Lastly, please excuse the lack of links; pretty bad form in a blog, but there doesn't seem like much point at the moment. And we've all seen enough tsunami porn already, right?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Vegetus
Who: Vegetus is the solo project of 富樫てっぺい (Teppei Togashi)
What: Noise
Link: Vegetus myspace
Well?
In terms of buzz, it might be better to focus more on Teppei's duo with Amano Takuya オゼ (which they spell "Oser" in English, but is phonetically closer to "o-ze").
That duo has been playing some excellent gigs in Tokyo of late - see here for Working Towards blogs handy video of a gig I missed - and are even in line to be released on a PSF Tokyo flashback CD - approval from the old guard! In my opinion, although I'm sure Teppei wouldn't be so rude as to agree with me, Oze is managing to save Japan noise music from the increasingly stodgy old guard.
Vegetus, Teppei's solo project, is also a noise project of great listenability which for me is a welcome replacement for Merzbow (who didn't thrill me either of the two times I've seen him live) or any of the numerous pedal-noise acts I've seen in Tokyo in the last four years. What's more, Vegetus is just as vegan as the original shogun of noise, dances a lot better, and is a generally warm person.
Some might argue that in decades past, Japan's society was more stifling than what it has become, and that people like Keiji Haino and Masami Akita needed to have a tough exterior to exist on the fringes of such a strict culture. Perhaps approachability is just a luxury the slowly relaxing Japan of today didn't afford the first wave of noise musicians. Nonetheless, it's a welcome characteristic.
Here's a video where Vegetus projects noise from a balcony overlooking a lake.
What: Noise
Link: Vegetus myspace
Well?
In terms of buzz, it might be better to focus more on Teppei's duo with Amano Takuya オゼ (which they spell "Oser" in English, but is phonetically closer to "o-ze").
That duo has been playing some excellent gigs in Tokyo of late - see here for Working Towards blogs handy video of a gig I missed - and are even in line to be released on a PSF Tokyo flashback CD - approval from the old guard! In my opinion, although I'm sure Teppei wouldn't be so rude as to agree with me, Oze is managing to save Japan noise music from the increasingly stodgy old guard.
Vegetus, Teppei's solo project, is also a noise project of great listenability which for me is a welcome replacement for Merzbow (who didn't thrill me either of the two times I've seen him live) or any of the numerous pedal-noise acts I've seen in Tokyo in the last four years. What's more, Vegetus is just as vegan as the original shogun of noise, dances a lot better, and is a generally warm person.
Some might argue that in decades past, Japan's society was more stifling than what it has become, and that people like Keiji Haino and Masami Akita needed to have a tough exterior to exist on the fringes of such a strict culture. Perhaps approachability is just a luxury the slowly relaxing Japan of today didn't afford the first wave of noise musicians. Nonetheless, it's a welcome characteristic.
Here's a video where Vegetus projects noise from a balcony overlooking a lake.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Diversions #1: Deep Osaka
(Ocasionally, when the urge strikes me, I'll write about Japan things that aren't musical Japan things. It's a diversion from the main theme of this blog, hence the label).
I ended up in Osaka this weekend as part of an 円盤出張 (Enban shutchou). This literally means "Enban-business-trip", but there was no "business" involved, unless you count the poorly attended gig (it was snowing hard for the first time in a while, which confused the Osakans a bit, I think). The gig itself is not what I want to write about, although it was located at the famous Bears club (no, not that kind of bears club: although I am a little on the hairy side, I'm leather averse...) where the Boredoms honed their dada.
Instead I wanted to note that it is the first time in three or four trips to Osaka that I felt like I had located the fabled "Deep Osaka" experience. One of the things that I think people don't realize about Japan, or don't fully appreciate if they pay a brief visit, is how a number of parts of Japan's big cities are what we would call "run-down". In reality, they're just parts that haven't been touched by money since the 80's boom, and are victims of the Japanese propensity to build structurally sound but superficially flimsy buildings. There's still enough money sloshing around in the world's third biggest economy to trim such rough edges, but thankfully it's either not a priority or the inhabitants actively resist it.
This confluence of factors results in certain areas of Tokyo and Osaka in particular being full of shabby buildings with wonky facades. If a Japanese 商店街 (shoutengai) or shopping street also exists in such an area, you have all the ingredients for a decaying fairground kind of feeling, which lovers of 千と千尋の神隠し(sen to chihiro no kamikakushi = "Spirited away") are unable to resist. The 動物園前 (Dobutsuenmae = literally "infront of the Zoological park" ) area of Osaka has this feeling in spades. It even has a literally decaying theme park - complete with a partially demolished roller coaster - in the notorious Shin-sekai area. That's right - the Shin-sekai area is actually "notorious". I'm skeptical about that word being used to describe any area in Japan - in reality, almost anywhere in Japan feels safer than big city America or the like. Nonetheless, I did feel an odd an odd sense of seediness which I have almost never detected before in Japan when I was walking around the network of covered shopping streets in doubutsuen-mae just south of shin-sekai. One particularly dilapidated branch off the main street had a canvas roof which had been ripped to shreds, an excellent complement to the oh-so shabby snacks and karaoke bars that lined the road. Although I've never been to the day workers' district of San'ya in Tokyo, I imagined that this was what it would feel like.
Sure enough, in a NY Times article that does a much better job of explaining the area than this post, I found mention that it is indeed close to the Osaka day labourer town. Despite the close proximity to very cheap business hotels and even a rare youth hostel, I didn't see a single other foreigner in the shopping streets of Dobutsuen-mae. I can only ascribe this to the exagerated bad reputation of the are conveyed by travel guides - thanks lonely planet!
The above-mentioned Shin-sekai (新世界 = new world = ironically named area) to the north of Dobutsuenmae contains a number of seedy shopping streets (as well as some great looking restaurants) and the marvellous jan-jan alley (じゃんじゃん 横丁), where you can see old men play shogi and go in clubs, and other locals lining up outside old ramen shops. The centerpiece of the area - the famous 通天閣 (tsutenkaku) tower - looks like a half built Eiffel tower with an aluminium box perched on top. Seriously, the windows made me think of the very cheapest aluminium ranch-sliders you'd find in old baches back home.
Talking with some locals over okonomiyaki (the waitress had the most amazing mayonnaise squirting skills I have ever seen; no I'm not being dirty) confirmed that I had indeed encountered "Deep Osaka" and not merely the Tokyo or America imitating areas closer to Osaka station. Enban boss Taguchi-san said that he used to stay in the area when he visited Osaka, and that you can often see young Yakuza standing on street corners at night ready to send warning if the police appear.
All in all, I can't recommend the area enough if you want to see a slice of real Japanese city life. I've heard these parts of Osaka compared with Tokyo's Asakusa, Kichijoji's harmonica yokocho and even Koenji, and while comparisons with the chuo-line area of Tokyo are apt, Dobutsuenmae and surrounds had a more dense, exciting feel to me. As an additional plus, it's only a 10 minute walk from Dobutsuenmae, through Shin-sekai to the Osaka version of Akihabara - the awesome Denden town.
I ended up in Osaka this weekend as part of an 円盤出張 (Enban shutchou). This literally means "Enban-business-trip", but there was no "business" involved, unless you count the poorly attended gig (it was snowing hard for the first time in a while, which confused the Osakans a bit, I think). The gig itself is not what I want to write about, although it was located at the famous Bears club (no, not that kind of bears club: although I am a little on the hairy side, I'm leather averse...) where the Boredoms honed their dada.
Instead I wanted to note that it is the first time in three or four trips to Osaka that I felt like I had located the fabled "Deep Osaka" experience. One of the things that I think people don't realize about Japan, or don't fully appreciate if they pay a brief visit, is how a number of parts of Japan's big cities are what we would call "run-down". In reality, they're just parts that haven't been touched by money since the 80's boom, and are victims of the Japanese propensity to build structurally sound but superficially flimsy buildings. There's still enough money sloshing around in the world's third biggest economy to trim such rough edges, but thankfully it's either not a priority or the inhabitants actively resist it.
This confluence of factors results in certain areas of Tokyo and Osaka in particular being full of shabby buildings with wonky facades. If a Japanese 商店街 (shoutengai) or shopping street also exists in such an area, you have all the ingredients for a decaying fairground kind of feeling, which lovers of 千と千尋の神隠し(sen to chihiro no kamikakushi = "Spirited away") are unable to resist. The 動物園前 (Dobutsuenmae = literally "infront of the Zoological park" ) area of Osaka has this feeling in spades. It even has a literally decaying theme park - complete with a partially demolished roller coaster - in the notorious Shin-sekai area. That's right - the Shin-sekai area is actually "notorious". I'm skeptical about that word being used to describe any area in Japan - in reality, almost anywhere in Japan feels safer than big city America or the like. Nonetheless, I did feel an odd an odd sense of seediness which I have almost never detected before in Japan when I was walking around the network of covered shopping streets in doubutsuen-mae just south of shin-sekai. One particularly dilapidated branch off the main street had a canvas roof which had been ripped to shreds, an excellent complement to the oh-so shabby snacks and karaoke bars that lined the road. Although I've never been to the day workers' district of San'ya in Tokyo, I imagined that this was what it would feel like.
Sure enough, in a NY Times article that does a much better job of explaining the area than this post, I found mention that it is indeed close to the Osaka day labourer town. Despite the close proximity to very cheap business hotels and even a rare youth hostel, I didn't see a single other foreigner in the shopping streets of Dobutsuen-mae. I can only ascribe this to the exagerated bad reputation of the are conveyed by travel guides - thanks lonely planet!
The above-mentioned Shin-sekai (新世界 = new world = ironically named area) to the north of Dobutsuenmae contains a number of seedy shopping streets (as well as some great looking restaurants) and the marvellous jan-jan alley (じゃんじゃん 横丁), where you can see old men play shogi and go in clubs, and other locals lining up outside old ramen shops. The centerpiece of the area - the famous 通天閣 (tsutenkaku) tower - looks like a half built Eiffel tower with an aluminium box perched on top. Seriously, the windows made me think of the very cheapest aluminium ranch-sliders you'd find in old baches back home.
Talking with some locals over okonomiyaki (the waitress had the most amazing mayonnaise squirting skills I have ever seen; no I'm not being dirty) confirmed that I had indeed encountered "Deep Osaka" and not merely the Tokyo or America imitating areas closer to Osaka station. Enban boss Taguchi-san said that he used to stay in the area when he visited Osaka, and that you can often see young Yakuza standing on street corners at night ready to send warning if the police appear.
All in all, I can't recommend the area enough if you want to see a slice of real Japanese city life. I've heard these parts of Osaka compared with Tokyo's Asakusa, Kichijoji's harmonica yokocho and even Koenji, and while comparisons with the chuo-line area of Tokyo are apt, Dobutsuenmae and surrounds had a more dense, exciting feel to me. As an additional plus, it's only a 10 minute walk from Dobutsuenmae, through Shin-sekai to the Osaka version of Akihabara - the awesome Denden town.
Posuposu
Who: Posuposu Otani (ポスポス大谷）
)
What: Accordian and throat singing
Link: Posuposu myspace
Well? :
I'm sure some people read the words "throat singing" and immediately tune out which is fair enough. It had its time as a kind of world music fad, and maybe one too many hippies learnt the technique and wore it out.
But give posuposu a chance: for the most part he uses his throat singing powers sparely and for good not evil. In one of his many eccentric touches, he will usually say the word "posuposu" before he launches into a throat-singing chorus so you always have ample warning. His normal singing voice is also pretty odd, and he's been known to break out a Jews harp, so if you're not a fan of warbling, you might not have much respite.
Posuposu's songs' subject matter is various, but often centers on UFOs. In my personal favourite posuposu song, he exhorts aliens to show him how to use their mysterious powers. He also has a fondness for puns as he explains (in English) at the start of this youtube clip. (The clip is from a performance at Koenji's 無力無善寺 (mu-ryoku muzenji) live house last year).
Posuposu is my favourite kind of eccentric: he takes a bunch of disparate things that he enjoys and throws them together in his performances. There is no hint of put-on oddness which is what sometimes passes for experimental in Tokyo.
)
What: Accordian and throat singing
Link: Posuposu myspace
Well? :
I'm sure some people read the words "throat singing" and immediately tune out which is fair enough. It had its time as a kind of world music fad, and maybe one too many hippies learnt the technique and wore it out.
But give posuposu a chance: for the most part he uses his throat singing powers sparely and for good not evil. In one of his many eccentric touches, he will usually say the word "posuposu" before he launches into a throat-singing chorus so you always have ample warning. His normal singing voice is also pretty odd, and he's been known to break out a Jews harp, so if you're not a fan of warbling, you might not have much respite.
Posuposu's songs' subject matter is various, but often centers on UFOs. In my personal favourite posuposu song, he exhorts aliens to show him how to use their mysterious powers. He also has a fondness for puns as he explains (in English) at the start of this youtube clip. (The clip is from a performance at Koenji's 無力無善寺 (mu-ryoku muzenji) live house last year).
Posuposu is my favourite kind of eccentric: he takes a bunch of disparate things that he enjoys and throws them together in his performances. There is no hint of put-on oddness which is what sometimes passes for experimental in Tokyo.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
ju sei
Who: Sei and Jun-ichirou Tanaka(田中淳一郎)
What: Avant "pop"
Web: ju sei's webpage
Well?:
From my outsider perspective, ju sei are the "it" duo of Tokyo improv/weirdo music at the moment. Their music is a combination of pop, genuine improvisation, electronica and just plain oddness, although it always feels well thought out. Jun holds down the fort with his tightly controlled guitar and effects constructions and Sei brings the alien charm, her vocals anchored by a precise pop delivery, but often careening off into screaming, squealing, or Ami Yoshida-esque frothiness. The ju sei set-list includes enough straight up sing-along hits to keep the average listener happy, while the weird detours have the Tokyo noise hipsters nodding subtly in appreciation.
One interesting part of ju sei's recent story (they've been making music for the better part of 10 years I believe) is how the attention of a foreigner in Tokyo - the remarkable Mr Anthony Guerra - helped bring them to greater prominence, at least in the Tokyo odd music scene. Anthony's black petal label (see the link from his name) is still only place to get an official ju sei release (although Enban has released a DVD of all of their instore performances). According to ju sei's web page, a new album will finally be available this spring.
Sei and Jun have a variety of side projects including shining rice (ju sei + Anthony Guerra), Chikara (a Jun-lead ensemble with an ever changing line-up), and Sei can be found MCing in her cold, formal Japanese announcer style (imagine an announcement on the shinkansen) at many an Enban linked event. As a duo, they have also been performing with 宇波拓(Taku Unami)'s absurd lounge act Hose a lot recently.
Unfotunately, it's hard to track down any ju sei perfomances on-line, probably partially because the word ju sei has a few dramatic meanings in Japanese ("gunshot", "brutality", "multiple stars" !) so it's relatively common as a tag on the web. If you know of any videos, let me know and I'll link to them here.
What: Avant "pop"
Web: ju sei's webpage
Well?:
From my outsider perspective, ju sei are the "it" duo of Tokyo improv/weirdo music at the moment. Their music is a combination of pop, genuine improvisation, electronica and just plain oddness, although it always feels well thought out. Jun holds down the fort with his tightly controlled guitar and effects constructions and Sei brings the alien charm, her vocals anchored by a precise pop delivery, but often careening off into screaming, squealing, or Ami Yoshida-esque frothiness. The ju sei set-list includes enough straight up sing-along hits to keep the average listener happy, while the weird detours have the Tokyo noise hipsters nodding subtly in appreciation.
One interesting part of ju sei's recent story (they've been making music for the better part of 10 years I believe) is how the attention of a foreigner in Tokyo - the remarkable Mr Anthony Guerra - helped bring them to greater prominence, at least in the Tokyo odd music scene. Anthony's black petal label (see the link from his name) is still only place to get an official ju sei release (although Enban has released a DVD of all of their instore performances). According to ju sei's web page, a new album will finally be available this spring.
Sei and Jun have a variety of side projects including shining rice (ju sei + Anthony Guerra), Chikara (a Jun-lead ensemble with an ever changing line-up), and Sei can be found MCing in her cold, formal Japanese announcer style (imagine an announcement on the shinkansen) at many an Enban linked event. As a duo, they have also been performing with 宇波拓(Taku Unami)'s absurd lounge act Hose a lot recently.
Unfotunately, it's hard to track down any ju sei perfomances on-line, probably partially because the word ju sei has a few dramatic meanings in Japanese ("gunshot", "brutality", "multiple stars" !) so it's relatively common as a tag on the web. If you know of any videos, let me know and I'll link to them here.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
ジョン（犬）(Jon the dog)
What: Jon the dog = Solo organ and vocals
Link: Jon the dog webpage (Japanese)
Well?:
The most noticeable aspect of a Jon the dog performance is that the performer is dressed in a giant (and scary) dog costume. This shouldn't be taken to mean that the project is a gimmick; Jon's music is compelling by itself. But the dog suit definitely adds something important - a surrealness that helps the music along.
Enban boss Taguchi-san once told me that all of Jon the dog's songs are about the life of a dog. However, "男の世界" (Otoko no sekai = "A man's world") could just as well be about sexual politics, at least according to my limited understanding of the lyrics.
Aside from the music, Ms. Jon leads an interesting life as a fortune teller and a proprietor of a bar in Golden Gai (unfortunately she doesn't wear the dog suit when serving drinks).
Link: Jon the dog webpage (Japanese)
Well?:
The most noticeable aspect of a Jon the dog performance is that the performer is dressed in a giant (and scary) dog costume. This shouldn't be taken to mean that the project is a gimmick; Jon's music is compelling by itself. But the dog suit definitely adds something important - a surrealness that helps the music along.
Enban boss Taguchi-san once told me that all of Jon the dog's songs are about the life of a dog. However, "男の世界" (Otoko no sekai = "A man's world") could just as well be about sexual politics, at least according to my limited understanding of the lyrics.
Aside from the music, Ms. Jon leads an interesting life as a fortune teller and a proprietor of a bar in Golden Gai (unfortunately she doesn't wear the dog suit when serving drinks).
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