Miaou, Shibuya O-Nest, April 22nd

I've never been to the opera but I occasionally watch the cultural programmes on NHK on a Sunday evening and the music gets me in that place where you can't explain it but the audience inevitably brings me back to Earth and reminds me that I know nothing about this kind of music and that they will take great pleasure in reminding me of this at every possible moment. I love instrumental music - give me Mogwai, Explosions In The Sky, Tortoise et al and I'm a happy man. Unfortunately, these bands seem to attract a similar audience to those cunts who claim they are opera lovers but go there for no other reason than to lord it over anyone who has the misfortune not to be as well versed in the intricate history of the music being played as they are. People like the bint who told my friend to 'shhh' at the show tonight in Shibuya. He's not the quietest of people but it was a fucking concert. It was between songs, not during one - stop being so fucking precious, get over yourself and accept the fact that people may talk to each other at a concert - it's just what they do.

Right, rant over. Miaou were fantastic. Swirls of blissful music made by people who were lost within what they were doing but never lost control and never allowed themselves to slip into the wankery that so often bedevils concerts of this type. Their music sounds and looks like it's great fun to play. They will never be huge but they deserve the kind of cult following that much more undeserving bands earn. If there is any kind if justice in the world people will get over Shonen Knife, see them for the dull shrieky bores that they are, and swoon at the majestic feet of bands like Miaou. It's not going to happen but we are allowed to dream - isn't that what keeps us going?

Happiness, Miaou, Noon Records

This record is over three years old but I read a review of it a couple of weeks ago whilst in a travel agents in Shinjuku - does that make this a genuine case of serendipity? Going by the dictionary definition I'd say so: "the faculty of discovering pleasing or valuable things by chance". See, it's not just a crappy romantic comedy. Anyway, I digress. What makes this album such a serendipitous discovery is the way it distills elements of a whole lot of my favourite groups - Mogwai, Sonic Youth, Seafood, Tortoise, Explosions in the Sky - adds a twist of that magical, mystical Japanese-ness that stops bands like this from being mere copyists, and mixes it together to create a heady cocktail that intoxicates you from the first listen and only becomes more addictive.

muno, the first track starts off sedately but the gentle washes of guitar soon start to fold in on themselves, building up layers of sound that give the song the structure of an exquisitely made samurai sword. boom 0 continues in a similar vein, starting quietly but soon bulking up into a wall of sound that Phil Spector would've been proud of. The seamless segue from one track to the next shouldn't be interpreted as a sign that the songs all sound the same - they dovetail perfectly but each song has its own character. pao 2000 sounds like an updated outtake from the Bitches Brew sessions, and my only complaint about it would be that the band could easily have kept exploring the spaces this song takes them to for longer than the three minutes that it takes up on the album, without it becoming boring. An intro of seagulls or synths (I'm not sure which) signals a change of pace in the next track, the elegiac el nienyo, which eschews the quiet/loud dynamic of the first couple of tracks. It's a change of direction that works, allowing Mayumi Hasegawa's mellifluous bass to move to the forefront of the song.

KIRAMEKI takes us back into quiet/loud territory, with its gentle melody sounding like a calmer, less Glaswegian Mogwai. jet sound wave is where the album stops being merely good and starts to be truly great. It starts out with another nod to Miles Davis - a skittering trumpet line - before settling into a fug of hazy guitars and Tatsuki Hamasaki's gentle vocals. The haze soon gives way to wave after wave of F/X laden guitars (perhaps the 'jet sound wave' of the title) which ultimately consume the song, causing it to collapse in on itself. It's a song Yo La Tengo would be proud of. HALF seems to signal a recovery of sorts - the squalls of feedback that devoured jet sound wave are still there, but this time the band has wrestled them under control.

There's probably a rulebook somewhere that states all albums should end with their most epic track. It may be a cliche but it's true. There's no point putting it at the beginning because then the rest of the album has to live under its shadow. Sticking it in the middle of the album just doesn't make sense either. If you got the best view from the middle of the mountain, why would anyone bother climbing to the top? Miaou have clearly read this book too and they follow the rules to the letter. Closer water & me is the kind of song that would be out of place anywhere else other than the end of an album. It takes its time - lightly brushed drums, bursts of trumpet, dripping water, woozy synthesizers, acoustic guitars, all flitting in and out of the track, seemingly as they please. The effects pedals have been locked up and feedback banished, as the twin chimes of glockenspiel and guitar lead this song and album to a surprisingly quiet finale - it's almost as if the band felt they had proved their adeptness with noise and wanted to show they could do quiet just as well.

Miaou are touring extensively this month. Click on the link to their website for more details.