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?

Miaou on YouTube

They are playing Shibuya tonight (O-Nest), but if you can't make it they have their own channel on YouTube with some clips of them playing live. This internet thing can actually be quite useful at times.

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.

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.

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.