I'm buggering off...

In about four hours time I'll be dragging my weary arse into a taxi and heading off on the marathon journey that is inevitable when going to Narita Airport. Our flight is at 10.30 but we're leaving here at 5.40, so that means I have approximately three hours in which to sleep - do you see how devoted I am to this blog?

Anyway, I'll be back in the new year and although I'll be checking this when I'm on holiday, I doubt I'll be posting anything (but if there are comments here I'll respond to them). To the lonely crofters and their dogs who make up this blog's pitiful audience, I wish you all the best - enjoy celebrating whatever it is you celebrate. Cheers.

Burgerlog

Daftness for daftness sake can be a great thing. With this in mind, have a look at the Burgerlog blog (and Burgerlog 2 - The Japan version) - if you don't leave these sites with a smile on your face I'm not sure there's much hope for you at all. You're probably the same kind of person that thinks James Blunt is a profound commentator on the vagaries of human existence rather than a talentless, charmless, ex-military goon with all the depth of a Hallmark card. Bitter? Me?

You Ain't No Picasso

Good site anyway, but elevated to god-like status for having a downloadable mp3 of Intervention, a new song by The Arcade Fire. It sounds as if they're going to continue from exactly where they left off - maybe there is a god after all.

The Psycrons

“Kyoto? That's the old capital of Japan, isn't it? The place with all the temples and shrines and Geisha and stuff? Yeah, a friend of mine went there once and said it was OK, but it got a bit boring after the fourth or fifth temple. Bloody school kids and middle-aged women everywhere too, he said.”

“Kyoto? Amazing city. The temples and shrines are beautiful and three days just wasn't long enough to do justice to the place. The city just absolutely oozes culture – it's in the buildings and the air itself. Remarkable.”

“Kyoto? Isn't that where they signed the environmental agreement that no bugger pays any attention to?

All stereotypical but plausible reactions to the question, “What do you know about Kyoto?” However, stereotypes are there to be shattered and The Psycrons ought to be the band that put Kyoto on the map for something other than its history and a toothless environmental protocol. Looking like extras who have strayed from the set of an Austin Powers film, and sounding like the last forty years of music has passed them by completely, The Psycrons are here to save the world. OK, that's just journailistic exaggeration, but The Psycrons are definitely here to brighten up the world.

The Miracle of The Psycrons is the band's second album and is out now. It careers around the touchstones of 60s music like Tigger on speed, nicking bits and bobs from all over the place: the scuzzy guitars of The Sonics, the vocal harmonies of The Byrds and a rhythm section straight out of the Motor City. The whole thing is powered by the meaty beaty big and bouncy energy of The Who and it sounds great. Standout tracks include Jetter of Love, which opens the album with a blast; and Footprints in the Winter which sounds like the mutant Japanese cousin of The Mamas and Papas backed by the MC5.

It would be easy to dismiss them as mere copyists who wish they'd been born a generation or two earlier, but that would be to miss the point. The Psycrons are a different breed to the current swathe of UK bands who are all desperately trying to be Gang of Four: their songs have a verve and energy about them that lifts them far beyond mere pastiche. Like The White Stripes, The Psycrons' seem to create more than just music. They have built up an alternative reality for themselves which they inhabit at all times. The Psycrons make no bones about their historical roots – this is who they are and that's that, and when the music's this good that's all that matters.

They may be sweaty, but...

... they're worth a look. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... Jimmy Pages Trousers.

UFO and The Sunshine Underground

I went to see The Sunshine Underground do a brief in-store appearance in the Tower Records store in Shibuya tonight. A friend of mine gave me a copy of their album recently and I'd only listened to it once, but the tickets were free so it seemed daft not to go (I'd also had a shite day at work so it was a welcome way to wind it up). If you haven't heard them they sound a bit like a British version of The Rapture, although they're more than just copyists. They played an acoustic set which worked surprisingly well - no doubt a sign of the strength of their songs - and then came back for a brief interview with a local radio DJ. Anyone who has seen Lost in Translation will be able to visualise this interview perfectly - the DJ would chunter away for about thirty seconds and then turn to the interpreter, who would then ask the band something as short and simple as "What do you think of Japan?" or "What's your favourite colour?". The band looked fairly relieved when it was all over.

Onto a vastly different kind of music. I recently got an E.P by a Japanese band called 10 from the JapanFiles website. I was intrigued by the description so I downloaded it late one night and promptly forgot all about it. I was making up a CD for a friend tonight and I noticed the two songs from the E.P at the very top of my iTunes list. "Let's give 'em a bash", I thought and off we went. About thirty five minutes later the music stopped and I felt like I'd just been to the dentist. They're an acquired taste, one I'm not sure I'm going to acquire. I'd like to see them live or as an accompaniment to experimental theatre/dance, but for me, the music just didn't work on its own. I'm sure John Peel would've loved them.

How's that for service

In response to young dotdash's comment I had a look at the website and I have only just recovered my socks that were blown off. It's here, it's good, but it's not an excuse for you to never come back to this blog.

I should be writing...

...but I'm not. On the plus side I'm finding some good sites. Have a look at Hideki's site if you get a chance. There's a variety of stuff here - CD reviews, a diary, some articles (including one about his first trip on a train) which are worth checking out.

Another Japanese music site - J-Music Ignited

This one's a bit more wide-ranging than Keikaku, covering more mainstream Japanese music as well as the indie stuff. It's also got info about bands from other parts of Asia and Europe. There's bound to be something here that to float your boat.

Is it just me...

...or does this look like Genesis P Orridge, frontman of industrialists Throbbing Gristle:


It's from an advert for habanero flavoured crisps on a train in Tokyo. Here's the man himself - surely there's more than just a passing resemblance:

If only all coppers ate here...

Saw this yesterday when I was out wandering. I don't know if it's the doughnuts or what but I'm sure the local constabulary avoid the place like the plague, meaning that it's ripe for a bit of armed robbery (not that I'm planning to do any).

The Psycrons and The Golden Loafers

I heard about these two bands from Michael Solo at Solo Records, and the world is a much better place with them in it. The Psycrons (above) are a fantastic blast of Sonics-like 60's psychedelic garage and also have possibly the coolest MySpace page I've seen. Golden Loafers, who at times seem to be fronted by the Japanese James Brown, are funkier than a lonely student's wanking sock (in the best possible sense) and look as if they'd be outstanding live.

I only got the albums today so I haven't had a chance to do a review but I can safely say that on the first listen they both sound superb. Have a look at the bands' MySpace pages for a taster, and if you're in the States I think they're headed their in the spring, so you know what to do. Check back around the weekend by which time I'll hopefully have something more detailed written about both bands.

I'm not the most computer literate of people...

...so I don't know if there's a better way to do this. I just published a review of Miaou's new E.P but because I started writing it a few days ago and saved it is a draft it's stuck back in November's archives. If anyone knows a way to change its position please let me know. In the meantime, if you want to read the review, it's here. Alternatively you can just scroll down the page.

November Top 10

Actually managed to get out and buy/download/listen to a fair amount of stuff last month so I think for once the Top 10 is actually based on merit rather than filling space. Shit, I've said too much. On with the chart.

1) Water & Me - Miaou
2) We Lost It - Miaou
3) Raiku - Mosquito
4) Ame ni mo Makete - Mothercoat
5) Kung Fu Girl - Limited Express (has gone?)
6) Many Many Sweets - Macdonald Duck Eclair
7) Gold Tears, Silver Tears - Camille of the Raspberry Lemonade
8) GT400 - Thee Michelle Gun Elephant
9) Gaikokujin - Mosquito
10) Air - Mothercoat

A few points. Why do so many of the bands start with 'M'? I have no idea. Why is GT4oo in here when it's donkey's years old? Because I hadn't heard it in ages and the clip from YouTube brought back a lot of memories. Why are Miaou at number one and two? Because over the course of the three years that separates the two releases the band changed quite substantially, and even if they hadn't, they're fucking ace and that's that. Hasn't Raiku been here before? Yup, but it's that good.

I've been wanting to write profiles/posts about some of the bands mentioned above, but I haven't had a chance to. The songs by Mothercoat, Mosquito, Camille of the Raspberry Lemonade, Limited Express, and Macdonald Duck Eclair are all available for download at Japan Files. I'm afraid you're going to have to go the old-fashioned way and order the CDs from the bands' websites.

For more info on Macdonald Duck Eclair, read this piece from the Japan Live blog.

Is this how it's supposed to be done?

While checking the Indigenous Beliefs blog that I mentioned before I followed some of the links from the comments and found another decent blog. Is this how you're supposed to do it? I'm not old but I came late to the internet party and I'm still a little like the bloke who stands in the corner nursing his drink and wondering exactly what this music is that everyone else seems to love. Have a look at this blog if you get the chance, the YouTube clip is good, but the rest of the blog is worth reading too.

This doesn't happen too often

Almost every time I'm on blogger I click on the 'next blog' button in the hope of finding a decent blog. It's usually a vain hope as I always seem to find myself in the middle of some whining teenager's misery (yes, I was a whining teenager but I didn't inflict my 'pain' on the wider world - I had a notebook). Either that or I end up reading about a family in Shitsville, Tennesee who have decided to share all their photos of their cabbage headed baby. Finally today I found one that actually makes the 'next blog' button seem like a good idea. It's called Indigenous Beliefs and is basically a bloke ruminating on fairly inconsequential things - the humour's slightly surreal but it made me laugh, and as anyone who knows me will tell you, that's quite an achievement at the best of times, never mind at nine in the morning.

Painted E.P, Miaou, Thomason Sounds

I feel like I've been time travelling when I listen to this E.P. I only picked up the band's 2003 debut album recently (not knowing it was three years old) and I've been playing it to death. Last week while out making wish lists in the record shops of Shibuya I noticed their most recent E.P and decided that it had to be bought. Miaou are still fantastic but they're not the same beast they were three years ago. Usually when you get into a band you can follow their progress release by release. My experience with Miaou has been more akin to time-lapse photography crossed with the kind of wormholes that mess up the space-time continuum in Star Trek.

The deceptively simple instrumentals that drew me to the band in the first place are still in evidence but the crunchy guitars have, for the most part, been left at home and everything just seems to shimmer that bit more. The first track, We Lost It, sees the band move from Mogwai territory to something more like the bucolic sound of Four Tet. An acoustic refrain floats atop burbling electronica that starts out quietly and builds into a track of rare beauty. Any directors looking for an instrumental piece to use in the opening credits of their film should search no further.

The rest of the album follows a fairly similar path, but when it's done this well it doesn't become boring. The record has been sequenced in such a way that it seems as if each song is organic, almost breathing. Scene of the Sunrise sees the pace increased a little and the band allow the song to stretch itself and fill out a very satisfying eight minutes. The gentler Anything Goes gives the band a short breather, but towards the end of its seven minutes they seem to regain some of their energy and things pick up again.

Grasslands (Revised) is a graceful epic, an aural collage of wide vistas that is one of the best ways of lifting you out of the sardine-packed hell that is commuting in Tokyo. The last original track on the E.P, Airship is probably the least arresting of the new songs showcased here. It's by no means terrible, but it's the first song where you find yourself looking at the seconds ticking over and wondering how long there is to go. I think it's a case of the band setting the bar at a dizzying height and paradoxically Airship is the one song that can't get over it. Oh, the humanity.

The final three tracks on the E.P are all remixes. Not having heard the originals I don't know how much the remixers have changed the songs. The Millimetrik Remix of Future Pavilion adds a darker undercurrent to the rest of the album's phosphorescence with it's doom laden atmospherics that sound like Massive Attack at their most paranoid. This paranoia morphs into claustrophobia during the first half of Epic 45's retooling of Dante, where it seems we really are being taken deeper into the inferno, before the usual Miaou sound breaks through the fug. It doesn't last though, as the last minute of the song sees the song engulfed in darkness once more.

The E.P's final track, the Qua Remix of On A Sunday sounds as if it may be the most dramatic reworking of the three. At times it sounds like Gizmo the Gremlin purring along to Tomorrow Never Knows, but then there are moments of cello and acoustic guitar that wouldn't sound out of place on a Nick Drake record. It's an intriguing end to a remarkable E.P.

So, Miaou are still my new favourite band. Their slight change in direction seems to be an inspired one and I'm looking forward to going over their back catalogue and seeing just how they got from Happiness to here.

Note - a slightly edited version of this review has been published on the keikaku website.

GT400

It's worth sitting through the two minutes of inane babble from the programme's hosts. I'm just testing that this video posting works - I've been trying to set this up on YouTube for a while and finally seemed to go OK today.

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.

What do they know?

Found this blog about the info that is dumped from Wikipedia. There's some good stuff there and I'm sure that we're all guilty of Drunk Blogging (looking at some of the comments here and on James Blunt Must Die I'd say that was pretty obvious).