4 posts tagged “reviews”
Over the past weeks, as I've kept up with my daily reading of various j-pop and H!P related blogs, it's been hard to avoid the announcement of Morning Musume's new single collection. As a new sacrificial lamb to Tsunku's unholy altar MM fan, thanks to recent single "onna ni sachi are" which I briefly wrote about last month, this new compilation has me interested. Of course, with the announcement also comes the much-discussed cover photo. In case you haven't seen it:
I've heard all the comments, rumors, hatred, adulation, and most other things in between with regards to this cover, so I'll keep my own observations brief (plus, you know, I have a real entry to start at some point):
1) Yes, it's just like the "LOVE MACHINE" cover. I don't really mind.
2) Risa Niigaki (top row, second from left) does not look happy. Not that I can blame her, with that hair. Woof.
There's obviously been quite a number of comparisons drawn to the "golden age" of Morning Musume, both in the composition of the photo and with regards to the actual group members. I've been reading them all with interest, but the fact is that I have next to no knowledge when it comes to MoMusu of days gone by. I've heard "LOVE MACHINE," as well as a couple other songs from that general period such as "koi no DANCE SITE" and "renai REVOLUTION 21," but I only know them out of context; the best comment I've been able to make about those songs has been "wow, they sure sounded different back then!" I've decided to be a good little wota-in-training and go about changing that, by rolling up my sleeves and starting from the beginning. Enter First Time, the group's debut album, released waaaay back in 1998.
First Time
zetima
Released July 8, 1998
01. Good Morning
02. Summer Night Town
03. dou ni ka shite doyoubi
04. Morning Coffee
05. yume no naka
06. ai no tane
07. wagamama
08. mirai no tobira
09. usotsuki anta
10. samishii hi
The ten songs collected on First Time are very, very far removed from the no-nonsense electronic production of the group's later works; instead, the sound is based on acoustic instruments and is generally much quieter, even laid-back in places. Most of all, the album feels surprisingly open, accessible, with songs that have space to breathe. As comparison, I love "onna ni sachi are," for example, but that song is encased head-to-toe in Tsunku's slick production values: I can listen but I can't touch, if that makes any sense. But on First Time, I can hear someone strumming a guitar under the main melody of "Morning Coffee." This is revolutionary! That said, though, there are a number of little sonic elements in these songs that I can only assume to be Tsunku's magical(?) touch: listen to the weird little cackle that pops up in one of the tracks, or the exotic synth touches in "wagamama," or the way "Good Morning" opens the album with a sampled voice saying "oh yeah?" followed by an enthusiastic "YAY!" from the Musumes themselves. These little flourishes don't define the songs like they would later efforts such as "LOVE MACHINE;" instead they stay in the background and help to keep things interesting.
Contributing to the accessibility are the vocalists. Just five members at the group's inception, with three more added on shortly afterward, none of the members on this album are with the group anymore. Thus I'm hearing many of these voices and forming impressions - and yes, attachments - for the first time. Yuko Nakazawa, wow, she was my age when this album came out. Kaori Iida, Mari Yaguchi, and Kei Yasuda I know vaguely, thanks to YouTube and a healthy dose of Ayaka's Surprise English Lessons (watch these, they are hilarious!), but never like this. Asuka Fukuda, Sayaka Ichii, and Aya Ishiguro are completely new to me. Natsumi Abe, well, even I knew who she was beforehand, but I've paid so little attention to her solo work that she might as well be new. The vocal performances are uneven in places - even Nacchi, who doesn't sound like she's fully developed vocally, has some off parts - and to be perfectly honest, even at their best, these girls don't really rise above, say, the level of a really good karaoke performance. But the ultimate charm of this album is that the vocals work together. Highlights for me include the breezy "usotsuki anta" with its relaxed two-person harmonies, the wonderful call-and-response in "yume no naka," and the infectious "daikirai, daikirai, daikirai, daisuki!" in the chorus of "Summer Night Town." These eight girls sound like a cohesive group, and that's an achievement: it takes them a step away from being simple throwaway pop and helps to give the album a more lasting appeal. It's also not something I can confidently say applies to the present-day group, either, although I would need to hear more to really make a solid judgement.
Bottom line? Color me impressed - very impressed - by this debut. It has me entertaining thoughts of buying the group's discography (albums, anyway) in one fell swoop, were it not for my wallet and the fact that the older stuff may well be out of print now (I have no idea). I'm extra excited for the singles collection, and I can't wait to delve further into the group's back catalog, now that I've heard them at their start. I feel like I know the basics, but there's still more ground to cover that I might better understand just how Morning Musume arrived at "LOVE MACHINE" - and where they chose to go afterward.
"EASY ACTION"
gr8! records/Sony
Released July 25, 2007
It’s interesting to think about how innocuously you can first encounter an artist or group who ends up being one of your favorite musical acts. For example, I first heard Ayumi Hamasaki in the 1999 video game Thousand Arms, singing “Depend on you” – I had no idea who she was, and I don’t think I was overly impressed with the song, but her name stuck with me, and when I took a chance on her LOVEppears album later on I was instantly hooked. Seven years later I now own a slightly ridiculous number of Ayu discs.
I discovered Boom Boom Satellites several years ago from their remix contribution to a Garbage single. As in Ayu’s case, I thought the remix (of the song “Push It,” which I loved at the time) was alright but nothing overly special. It’d take me until mid-2006 to discover the band again, when I came across their album Full of Elevating Pleasures at my local Newbury Comics (thank you, Tofu Records, for bringing it stateside – now market your artists better, dammit). I picked up the album completely on impulse, knowing nothing about what the music would be like. Fast forward a year, and I’m the proud owner of most of their albums, a few singles, and a thanks that the band is not more prolific - because I’m buying whatever they release from this point forward, and I’m not rich.
BBS is a duo made up of vocalist/guitarist Michiyuki Kawashima and bassist/programmer Masayuki Nakano, with drummer Naoki Hirai often on board as a supporting member. Smaller releases aside, they’ve released five major albums in the past ten years, and have gone through quite a radical change in their style since their inception. Starting in 1998 with Out Loud, BBS’ initial sound was a strange mixture of freeform jazz, driving beats, and the occasional (and incongruent) punk-rock song featuring Kawashima on guitar and screaming vocals. Those last two elements would be more and more heavily featured as the years went by, particularly after the band contributed several songs to the animated film Appleseed in 2004. Their most recent album, 2006’s On, is a showcase for just how hard this band can rock: it’s filled with huge drums, 4/4 beats, loud guitar, and Kawashima’s always-insistent vocal delivery, but still includes a few twists to keep things interesting, such as the gospel-style backing vocalist (this was also done on Full of Elevating Pleasures, and believe it or not, it works very well). Interesting to note is that all of the band's lyrics are in English; Kawashima has a heavy accent but is generally pretty understandable.
BBS' newest single, “EASY ACTION,” dropped in July, and it's another animation tie-in, this time for the new film Vexille. Stylistically it’s very close to the On sound, and actually seems a little simpler than anything on that album. For the verses, the drums and guitar are locked in a single pattern, providing a hard but basic background texture for Kawashima’s sexy yowl, before the chorus brings in a simple descending melody to act as counterpoint. Things don’t get much more complex until the end of the song, when the drums and synths improvise a little bit; this lasts only a short while before a final cymbal crash, at which point the song quietly implodes, with some synth-chittering as things fade out. The lyrics are focused and emotive to match the simplicity of the music, with the chorus repeating the lines “All that I want is easy action / such an easy thing to lose, yeah!” Verses share similar sentiment, such as “I ain’t got a clue, tell me what to do / I ain’t got a blues that I wanna play / it ain’t party time ‘til you come around / well, easy comes, easy goes again.” Interpret the lyrics as you wish, but ultimately this song is pretty damn straightforward.
The two remixes included on the single are both propelled by driving beats and have much of the same straight-shooter ethic of the original, but each remix takes “EASY ACTION” in some intriguing directions. Coburn’s “Sleazy Action” remix has both a clever and extremely apt title; stripping everything except for a small portion of vocals, this remix slows the tempo just enough to add an insistent house beat, together with some grimy synth textures and what sounds like a car engine in the background (though I guess it could just be another effect). London Elektricity opts instead to speed things up, pinning a drum ‘n bass rhythm section underneath the main guitar riff, and later also adding an original melodic guitar part that creates wonderful contrast. This mix also keeps more of the original vocals, although the track ends up feeling short since they don’t enter until about halfway through. I enjoy both remixes greatly, and they’re worth shelling out for the single even though no b-sides are included.
I do, however, question the worth of what’s coming next. Just a little bit. Don’t get me wrong: I love the band, I’ve been digging their new sound, and I have a huge crush on Michiyuki Kawashima. (Wait, did I just think that last part or did I actually type it out? Hmm. I guess we’ll see when this gets posted.) But On has been wearing thin after a year of owning it, and since this single is only a small departure (if it’s even a departure at all) from that sound, I’m left wondering about their upcoming album – the official site claims it’ll arrive sometime this year. I expect to either be disappointed or completely blown away, and I’m obviously hoping for the latter.
That said, for a new fan there’s a lot to love about Boom Boom Satellites, and I encourage you to dive in and explore their discography. I hope this review gives a little more exposure to a band I don’t think gets enough overseas love… and if it manages to make a rabid fan out of you, well, all I can say to that is “rock on!”
"Heavenly Star/Breeze"
avex trax
Released July 4, 2007
01. Heavenly Star
02. Breeze
03. Heavenly Star - Glorious Remix
04. Heavenly Star - Sunrise Remix
05. Heavenly Star - Count Down Remix
06. Heavenly Star - Space Walk Remix
07. Heavenly Star - Aurora Remix
08. Heavenly Star - Floating Remix
09. Heavenly Star - L&M Projekt Remix (CD edition only)
10. Heavenly Star - Instrumental
“I see you, feel you,
I am your creation
Everlasting affection
Life’s an endless
spiral going ‘round
Yes, we are in love!”
- from “Heavenly Star”
The above lyrics may, at first glance, come off as a typical pop construction: words crafted to fit a melody first and to carry a meaning second. Artificial sentiment, perhaps. But Genki Rockets, in its debut single “Heavenly Star/Breeze,” has taken things one step further: what meaning can a pop song have when sung by an artificial singer?
Genki Rockets’ Myspace would have us believe that the group is composed of just one young woman, named Lumi. Lumi, according to the scant but colorful biography on the page, was born in outer space, has never been to Earth, and “lives in the future world.” In actuality, Genki Rockets is produced by Tetsuya Mizuguchi, who is a video game designer famous for the puzzle games Lumines, among other works. But who is Lumi? Or, if you perhaps doubt the accuracy of the official bio (shame on you), then who is the person singing the songs? The answer is actually “no one.” Neither the singing voice nor the girl who appears in the PV for “Heavenly Star” is real (technically, the voice we hear was assembled from several different female singers to create the final product). In essence, then, the entirety of the Genki Rockets project is synthetic.
Personally, I find this fascinating on a couple of levels. The most obvious is, of course, the technical achievement; many artists have experimented with computerized or otherwise processed vocals before, but the construction of a voice is no small feat. A casual listen to “Heavenly Star” or its b-side, “Breeze,” and you might not be able to tell that Lumi is made up of samples – I was fooled at first. While she is heavily vocodered throughout most of both the songs, the vocals themselves are consistent in tone, enough to sound like it’s one person, and frankly she still sounds more real than, say, Cher in “Believe” or the male vocalist in Daft Punk’s “One More Time.” Granted, those are older songs, and the vocal processing was being used for dramatic effect, but regardless “Heavenly Star” is a testament to how convincing our technological illusions have become. Major respect to Mizuguchi and his fellow producers.
But the underlying thing that really intrigues me, and has inspired me to write about this music, is how convincing Lumi is. Huh? Convincing? How can an auto-tuned, quantized, and heavily processed voice (or set of voices) sing lyrics like “heavenly stars above / just believe what’s in your heart / no border between us / nothing can divide us” and, at least for a few minutes, make me believe her? I have no idea, but somehow she manages it. That said, my favorite moment on this single is from “Breeze.” Coming out of the second chorus, there are a few precious seconds when the instrumentation drops away and Lumi, in a quiet mechanical stutter, sings “I’m so close to you” as if she really were right next to me. Oh man, if only it were true. Gackt could be standing next to me, singing that in my ear, and I wouldn’t be as thrilled… oh, all right, I won’t lie, Gackt would win out, but Lumi would come a damn close second! There’s just something about her voice – there’s some sort of purity in it, despite it not being real, that I can’t explain. What I can say is that I find these songs extraordinarily affecting.
Then again, Mizuguchi seems to have tailored this entire single to aim at our pleasure centers. “Heavenly Star” is a bright, dance-oriented song with plenty of synths and a strong club beat; “Breeze” is similar but scales back the instrumentation a bit, placing Lumi’s voice higher in the mix. The video for “Heavenly Star,” included on the CD+DVD version of the single, is positively euphoric, filled with pastel colors, computer-generated landscapes, and stars that twinkle in time with the beat. (I especially melt at the "No border between us!!" words on the screen when Lumi sings those particular lyrics.) Mizuguchi, or maybe his marketing team, have also succeeded in making wallets happy: the single is packed with six remixes of “Heavenly Star” (seven if you opt for the CD-only version) plus an instrumental. If you’re into remixes like I am, this translates into an incredible bang for your buck.
I imagine that, after all I’ve said
and the samples I’ve provided, some people have probably been turned off by all
the… well… genki-ness of the whole
affair. If you’re still here, though,
I’d like to say that I have been thoroughly impressed by this release and
encourage you to get a copy for yourself.
I posed a question about the meaning behind these songs in my first
paragraph, and I may just have to leave it as a rhetorical inquiry because I’m
not sure I have an answer. I guess maybe
I’m just a romantic sap, sure. But you
know, maybe the whole concept – platitudes about love and peace sung by an
automaton – is just so divorced from
reality, so unabashedly artificial,
that my guard is completely dropped, and these songs have a clear pathway into
my heart. Whatever it is, I have to say:
well done, Lumi. You’ve won yourself a
devoted fan.
(Hello and welcome to Infinite Seasons! I've created this blog with the purpose of doing more writing, both for my enjoyment and to keep my skills honed, and since Japanese music is something I've grown to love in recent years, it will be the primary focus. I basically aim to write about each new CD of music that I obtain, whether or not the CD itself is technically "new" (as is the case with the review I'm about to post); we'll see what I can come up with to write about in between purchases.)
kazemachi kousaten
Universal J
Released November 29, 2006
01. kaze ni natte
02. BLUE
03. koishikute (Orchestra Version)
04. heibon blues
05. SYLVIA
06. kazahana
07. shimatta umarete kichimatta
08. Q.O.L
09. ai no THESIS
10. kimi wa gobanme no kisetsu (Album Version)
11. yumemitai ~dakara kumo ni akogareta~
12. niji (Yakushima Domenika Version)
13. MOTHER EARTH (Living Room Version)
Singer-songwriter Naotaro Moriyama has been around for a while now – he recently released a best-of compilation spanning songs from 2001 to 2005 – but I’d never bothered to check him out beyond listening to a couple of 30-second samples of his stuff. Then along came his single “kaze ni natte,” which I downloaded at random off a torrent site. I enjoyed the song and its two b-sides, so when this album came out, I decided to take the plunge and buy it.
“kaze ni natte” is an acoustic, guitar-driven pop song with some synth hooks added for effect, and most of kazemachi kousaten uses the same instrumental palette. Some songs deviate a bit in either direction: “shimatta umarete kichimatta” is just Moriyama and a guitar; the intro to “kazahana,” in contrast, floats on a sparkling keyboard riff and lots of reverb. Overall, though, the songs are fairly restrained in their instrumentation; it’s Moriyama’s voice that is front and center at all times. This brings songs like “koishikute,” a strings-driven ballad, and the passionate “SYLVIA” to amazing life. “SYLVIA” is the longest song on the album, clocking in at just over 7 minutes, and Moriyama builds the song masterfully, knowing when to hold back vocally and, conversely, when to pour his heart out. The song also showcases his lovely harmonizing, as he sings over his own multitracked backing vocals in the outro. My favorite track, though, is “Q・O・L,” a joyful, buoyant track where Moriyama sings with abandon and even goes so far as to exclaim the last lines of the chorus.
Above examples aside, I knew I was hooked on Moriyama’s voice when I first heard him hit the high notes in “kaze ni natte,” but on the other hand I’ve heard people say they can’t stand the way he sings. The biggest thing I notice about his voice is its tendency to sound pinched, or nasal, in places, particularly when he goes up into falsetto (which he does often). He also tends to transition a bit roughly between notes, sounding like he has something in his throat as he sings. The end result is a voice with a good deal of texture. I like it, and I don’t think many people will argue that Moriyama isn’t a capable singer, but it’s probably not for everyone. (Check out the samples here and judge for yourself.)
The album, however, seems like it could be for everyone, or failing that, a whole lot of people. Moriyama’s folksy music is endearing and well-performed, and the 11 tracks on Kazemachi Kousaten (plus a 2-track bonus disc if you get the limited edition) form a coherent package of songs. Naotaro Moriyama himself looks like a pretty down-to-earth guy – the photos of him in the liner booklet, all in black and white, show him with friends and family, almost always with a huge, disarming smile on his face. This is an album that sounds like it was made by a person who’s pretty happy with life in general. It’s an album that puts a smile on my face, and I recommend it highly.