Utada - Exodus

Island Records: 2004

I covered the two Japanese albums that bookend Utada's first foray into American markets, so why not the actual project as well? Even if I don't have the greatest familiarity with her general work, the story behind Exodus is worth at least a couple paragraphs of discourse, right? Sure, which I honestly kinda' covered in those previous reviews of Deep River and Ultra Blue. What else is there left for me to say? Well, what kind of music is actually on the record, so there's that.

Still, a little refresher is in order. Sensing an international starlet on his roster, Island Records CEO Lyon Cohen signed Hikaru to his label for an American-made album. Two problems though: one, J-pop never had any appeal in America, so Hikaru would have to change her style some to accommodate a different audience. Okay, that's not a huge deal, Deep River showing some Western R&B influences anyway, so the transition could be easy. Just assign some top-tier producers to the project to guide her on her way and what do you mean she's gonna' do all the music herself? That's not how things are done in America, yo'! Okay, if you have a ton of industry clout, sure, but someone making their debut in a new land? What do you think you are, big in Japan?

Even more so, I sense that, in having a fresh audience, Hikaru saw it as an opportunity to break free of conventional pop song-writing her first run of albums had. Push boundaries, get a little experimental, explore other facets of genres. This isn't just speculation, some songs on Exodus explicitly detailing how she wants to crossover styles of music, creating a melting pot and all that. Or those lyrics are just clumsy metaphors for sex, mixing 'gene pools' and all. Considering some of the other lyrics on here, maybe so.

I've mentioned in the past my primary hurdle in getting into all these Japanese artists remains the language barrier, but as this is a totally English record, that shouldn't be the case. Thing is, I can't help but get a twinge of cringe over lines like “You're easy breezy / And I'm Japaneezy”, or constantly referring to American guys she hooks up with in clubs as cowboys (this is the last kind of music you'll hear rancher dudes listening to, much less hanging out at urban clubs). Being a sultry seductress hunting on the town really isn't a lane Utada meshes comfortably with, and no amount of Timbaland production can hide that.

Okay, he really only produces a couple tunes, Exodus '04 and Let Me Give Your Love, and they're honestly some of the better cuts on here. Tracks like Tippy Toe and The Workout show some influence from him, if not direct input. There's a fair bit of interesting production on here, even if it doesn't all land. Which it apparently didn't, at least enough to get much attention in America. Still did gang-busters in Japan, because of course it would.

Ringo Sheena - Shōso Strip

Virgin: 2000

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I think we all have to come to grips that I'm woefully unqualified to talk about Japanese pop music with any sort of authoritative perspective. Yeah, I can appreciate, and even enjoy it, at a basic, superficial aesthetic level (sounds do good things on brain, me likey!), but I've no real insights or analysis to provide from the experience. Beyond what a couple Wiki links of information can offer (y'know, collegiate level research), there's very little I can explore or detail regarding the cultural impact of such music.

Like, I can get proper-deep regarding rave music, as I've been part of, digested, consumed, and researched nearly all facets of it for a quarter of a century now (a significant portion of my life indeed). And while I've covered other music genres or scenes I'm not so involved with (your alternative rock, your jazz-bop, your country twang), they're at least still prevalent enough in my sphere of the globe that I know enough about them via cultural osmosis. It's incredibly rare that mass market music from other (non English-speaking) artists ever had much impact here, no matter how successful they may have been elsewhere.

It's almost entirely thanks to the power of global social media that we've started seeing actual cultural cross-over in the Americas from the mega-stars of Japan and Korea. Even as I type this, my localized Twitter feed is blowing up about Wonho leaving MONSTA X (everything else is Halloween stuff). Let's face it, a newer, younger generation has discovered something they know their parents just won't understand. What better rebel music than music that's not even Caucasian, amirite? Nah, guy, there's just a lot of East Asian transplants in Vancouver.

Anyhow, Ringo Sheena (or Shiina Ringo, if you're Discoggian) turned quite a few heads upon her debut, a teenage wonder-kid who fused noisy Western rock with noisy Japanese rock, presented in that spiffy, over-the-top j-pop stylee everyone just thinks all Japanese pop music sounds like. Sales proved her a potential break-out star that could possibly make it big overseas, thus was immediately signed to the mighty Virgin empire, the quick follow-up Shōso Strip the result.

Almost too quickly, apparently, as the budding star felt the tracklist was too similar to her debut. I can dig that, as I felt like I was listening to Muzai Moratorium all over again with this one. Yeah, there's a few additional wrinkles here and there (ooh, techno thump-thumps in 浴室) and the song-writing comes off more polished than the first – the chaotic production is focused and targeted. Yet I still had to double-check I was listening to the correct album a couple times, unsure whether it was the first or second (didn't help my digital player couldn't convert kanji properly).

And sadly, I can't give any deeper analysis than that. As mentioned, I simply don't connect to this music beyond the superficial. Y'all would be better served listening to the Spotify link for your own conclusions.

Ringo Sheena - Muzai Moratorium

Eastworld: 1999

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Even for some of the items that are well outside my wheelhouse, this one's practically lost over the horizon from my usual vantage point. Sure, I've touched upon J-pop plenty of times, but much of that has lineage from Western music, so it's not much of a leap for me to wax the bull about such releases on a purely 'dumb' level. Even the scant offerings of Japanese alternative rock I've covered at least borrows elements of shoegazey indie, which has enough ties to some forms of electronic music that I could at least bluff my way through it. And while I don't go out of my way to play much Western alternative rock for myself, I can't help but absorb it through cultural osmosis no matter where I live on this continent. Like, even the most back-ass, evangelical hubs, where they listen to nothing but gospel and Christian music – there's always a Christian version of alternative rock music.

J-pop grunge though? I don't know where to begin with this. Never would I have thought the brick-walled racket of Nirvana and Stone Temple Pilots could merge with Japanese vocals. Even the nation's version of screechy noise-punk makes more sense to me than this, the Japanese famous for taking Western ideas to absurdist, extreme levels.

I suppose I can at least start with who Ringo Sheena is, though I admit I'm doing nothing more than reiterating Wikipedia talking points here. Yes, I am once again dealing with a Japanese artist/musician/song-writer that is super-huge in their native homeland, but has almost no market penetration where I'm from. Or maybe a little bit, seeing as how I reside on the Pacific Rim and all. Surely a Japanaese star with two decades under her belt has a fanbase in Vancouver, especially with a major, global label backing her.

That's getting a little ahead of myself though. We're here with her debut Muzai Moratorium (aka: Innocence Moratorium; aka: 無罪モラトリアム), released on stalwart Japanese print Eastworld, which she apparently wrote and released while still a teenager. Well, in Japanese terms, that's not that impressive, what with their teen demographic often called upon to save the city/nation/universe (sorry, couldn't resist that one).

Seriously though, it's quite remarkable the amount of diversity on display here. Yeah, there's the pure noisy-rock turns (A View Of Happiness, Caution, Playing With Blocks, Kiss Me), but also stabs at ragtime (Queen Of Kabuki-cho, Marunouchi Sadistic) and j-pop balladry (Sid & Daydreams, Ordinary Night, Morphine), with assorted sprinklings of other genres littered throughout. 'Orient-techno' inPlaying With Blocks, discordant orchestras in Ordinary Night, etc.

Despite the level of production involved, Muzai Moratorium has quite the 'garage-rock' sheen to it, such that everything's rather bricked when listening to it. Half the time, I can't even make out Ringo's lyrics, even the English ones. Still, impressive use of rolling 'R's. I didn't know the Japanese could even do that!

Utada Hikaru - Ultra Blue

Eastworld: 2006

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Now that I've gotten the boggles out of my mind regarding the juggernaut of a commercial success that is Utada Hikaru's music career, I can do a deeper dive into one of her albums. Eh, I left out her attempts at breaking through in America? For sure there was an attempt, almost immediately after the release of Deep Blue in fact. How could her brand not want to replicate that fame on this side of the Pacific? Surely folks in the U.S. of A. would look past her ethnic origins and appreciate the music- BWAHAAHAHA!!! Oh man, I couldn't even finish it! They certainly did all they could trying though, what with Island Def Jam getting Timbaland at the producer's console. I suppose Exodus debuting at 160 on the Billboard was okay for a mostly unknown foreign talent but yeah, small wonder she returned to Japan after this. For a 'foreign produced' record though, album did gangbusters in her native land. Obviously it did.

Ultra Blue is the Japanese album Hikaru released in the wake of her American expenditure, and boy are the English influences ever still present, a track list almost entirely in that language. In fact, of the twelve songs, only three use kanji. Another three do that funny Japanese thing where they capitalize the whole title (BLUE, COLORS, WINGS), as though they're so hype for the song, they just gotta' shout it at the top of their lungs. But yeah, the rest are all conventional English titles: Be My Last, One Night Magic, Keep Tryin', This Is Love, Making Love. Oh, and this CD is 'thicc', yo', one of the fattest jewel cases I've ever held. Nothing but the most luxurious booklet paper for Utada Hikaru!

There's also more English in the songs themselves, though mostly in the choruses, Hikaru often flipping between languages even mid-line. I remain dumb-founded that folks, of any ethnicity, can pull that off (work with some carrying conversations fluently flipping from English to Punjabi). Judging by the titles though, most of the lyrics deal with the usual love topics R&B and pop settle on, and as my Japanese remains pathetically weak, I've no clue how deep or profound Hikaru's words are. She's certainly emotive enough to carry a tune though.

And yet, Ultra Blue was apparently one of her weakest selling albums, with a slightly more electronic tinge to the music not quite vibing with her massive audience. Which is weird to me because this all sounds like the same super-slick polished pop cribbing contemporary influences I've heard from mainstream markets for decades. A little Latin in One Night Magic, a little trip-hop in 海路, a little... UK urban in COLORS? Okay, maybe not as indebted to American R&B as her earlier output, but not so blatantly Japanese as I expect of most j-pop either. Was it simply not enough of either? Well, if there's anything I wouldn't call Ultra Blue, it's vanilla. Now rose, there's a flavour that's apt.

ACE TRACKS: May 2019

This post is coming to you from the tiny mountainous town of Jasper, Alberta, nestled within the northern arm of the mighty Canadian Rockies. And is this tiny mountainous town ever a tourist trap, believe you me, but with splendorous scenery such as this, how could it not? Like, sure, no one gave Jasper much care half a century ago, when it was little more than a way point for train routes through the mountains, but when The Greatest Generation and their offspring were scoping Canada out for vacation and retirement options, they realized this untamed region was quite nice for hiking, skiing, camping, and seeing various wildlife in their natural habitats. Thus, tourist trap of a town was born.

Now, I've actually passed through Jasper a number of times when I was a wee lad, when my family would drive from one corner of Canadian hinterlands to visit other family in another corner of Canadian hinterlands (the flatter kind), but I barely have any recollection of it, almost always passed out from the super-long road trip by the time we came to Jasper (my folks were hardcore about making it across three provinces in a single 24-hour shot). Figured if I'm going to do a road trip for a vacation of my own, why not visit some places of my youth? I'm not sure why we feel so compelled to do that as we age. It's very strange. Maybe I should have brought some Raffi with me to listen to if I truly wanted to recapture that experience. Ain't none of that on this month's ACE TRACKS playlist though.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band - In The Rain, In The Noise
Waki - Hurry Up And Relax
Wanderwelle - Gathering Of The Ancient Spirits

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Rock: 0 %
Most “WTF?” Track: Oh, obviously the one with DJ Shadow's name attached.

Why yes, I did listen to this while on the road! Well, for the portions of British Columbian highway that I could still get Spotify signal. Was surprised it held out as far into some regions as it did. Can't say this was a terrible good playlist for a road trip though, genres wildly jumping all over the place as they did. Good thing I brought a CD wallet with me too! Ah, the ol' standbys...

Utada Hikaru - Deep River

Eastworld: 2002

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Upon receiving this album, I couldn't help but do a double-take. Was I certain this was a j-pop album? It looks nothing like the preconceived cliches of the genre my Western eyes have been inundated with. In fact, aside from the artist name and kanji on the back, I'd have easily thought it an American R&B release, not that dissimilar to a traditional Mariah Carey or Beyoncé cover. Throwing it on for a listen, the American influences are even more prevalent – were it not for the different language, this wouldn't have been out of place in any Western R&B chart. And with American artists cribbing from 'ethnic' cultures as it was (s'up, bhangra), turnabout is fair play. Did make me wonder if Utada Hikaru might have had any success over here if she tried a crossover album.

Then I did the post-listen research and discovered, shit, she don't need success over here in the slightest. For Utada Hikaru is huge in Japan. Like, Mariah and Beyoncé huge! Like, owner of some of the country's top selling albums ever, absolutely trouncing her nearest chart competitors. Her first album First Love crushed it at 7.6 million copies sold there – by comparison, Michael Jackson's Thriller, the agreed upon most successful global record ever, sold only 2.8 million in Japan.

Yet, despite her monumental success in her homeland, she's nary a presence over here, a lone soundtrack appearance on the Jackie Chan/Chris Tucker movie Rush Hour 2 her closest brush with success in America. There's also frequent contributions to the Kingdom Hearts games (including the closing song 光 from here), but that's a comparatively niche audience. Yes, I know, entirely different cultures and all, but again, the music she's making here isn't that different compared to American R&B, her cadence easily on par with the divas of the U.S. Just use the ol' Shakira Strategy: record an English version, get a major label backing it (EMI handled distribution in other South Asian markets at the time, though she's since signed with Sony, so maybe a re-issue?), and see what may come.

I'm sorry I'm dwelling on this so much, but it honestly and truly boggles my mind that someone could be so successful in one country, and not here. It's not even like her music is too culturally dense to work elsewhere. It'd be like if Shania Twain or Celine Dion never broke out of Canada because they name-drop Montreal and maple trees (true, not so evocative as Tokyo and sakura trees).

Also, I honestly don't have that much to say about Deep River. As mentioned, this is an R&B-styled record, a genre I only have passing interest in, and where vocal presentation is first and foremost. Ms. Utada definitely has the pipes, such that I do hang on her words even if I don't know what they specifically mean. Translations reveal they're mostly about relationships and empowerment – standard R&B tropes – but that only takes me so far.

Sakanaction - Documentaly

Victor Entertainment: 2011

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I've mentioned plenty my enjoyment of 'foreign speaking' music is typically at a surface level. Like, I'll dig a French rapper riding a beat just as much as any Jamaican toaster, even if I don't have much clue of what either are saying (and one of them raps in English! ...kinda'). And as I've sifted through various Japanese indie and pop singers, so too have I come to at least appreciate their singing cadence in relation to the music, if not so much the lyrical content. Not that I really had much to dig through anyway, most topics dealing with the same things much of Western music does (love, reflections, historical figures). This Documentaly though, this one I was informed that it was imperative that I not only check out the lyrics involved, but also how they came about. Great, homework. Whatever happened to just feelin' the music? Ack, no, must... resist... jazz... snobbery!

Sakanaction is a five piece rock band that incorporates electronic elements, seeing their star shine ever brighter as the years went on. For the past decade, their singles and albums have consistently lay within the Japanese Top 10, with the self-titled fifth one finally hitting that always coveted number one spot. Sakanaction's previous two albums come close though, and as is so often the case with indie bands with humble roots, that increased fame and fortune started weighing on the members' minds, especially so lead singer Ichiro Yamaguchi.

The first half of Documentaly features songs with titles like Identity, Monochrome Tokyo, and Mask Town, and without even reading the lyrics, I can already tell they deal with the desaturated existence of celebrity, where coming into contact with so many faces causes a disconnect with your fellow person, humanity bleeding into a mass of near-nothingness. Heck, one just has to live in a large city to feel that, passing by countless people without knowing or caring who they are. Even some of the attempts at connectivity (Rookie and Anteres To Hari) are met with self-doubt and loneliness. Still, all this doesn't distract from the musical content, mostly peppy indie rock and dance-pop tunes (damn, some of those synths are mint).

Then the album takes a startling turn. There's a curious moment of silence at the mid-way mark, a somber, slower shoegaze jam with minimal lyrics following (Streamline Wave). The following tracks are mostly humbler in tone too, with titles more abstract. I thought it an interesting change of tone, but when I did the background research, it all became far more poignant.

For you see, this album was made at the same time as the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, an event so disastrous, Yamaguchi suddenly felt his songs about personal isolation were no longer so poignant. The back-half of Documentaly touches upon these topics less directly than the material in the first half, but man, one can't help but feel the empathy coming from these guys as they hope their countrymen can rebuild from nature's indifferent destruction.

Aira Mitsuki - C.O.P.Y.

D-Topia Entertainment: 2008

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Holy cow, it's a j-pop synthwave album! You'd think this is a shoo-in mini-scene, as '80s anime seems ripe for aesthetic plundering as anything else form the decade, but for some reason I don't see it much. Then again, a lot of the animation coming out of Japan was setting its sights in the far future (anywhere between 1995-2152), and synthwave is more about celebrating stuff that actually existed in the '80s, even if it's a hyper-stylized version cribbed from direct-to-VHS fodder. There's no doubting that cover though! The font, the streamers, the car, the city lights, the purple vector grids, the retro-future eyewear – looks about as synthwavey of art as I've ever seen. I wonder what sort of cool sounds I'll hear in this ...2008 release? Wait a second... *does a playthrough* Oh. It's not synthwave at all. Huh, I forgot the '00s cribbed a ton of '80s iconography too, all the while sounding nothing like '80s music.

Before getting into what this is, let's get into who this is. Aira Mitsuki is a j-pop songstress who apparently won some contest called the Mega Trance Songstress Audition. I have no idea what that is/was, and a Google search just brings me either to her bio, or the Mega Trance compilation series, which has nothing to do with Aira, j-pop, or trance. I'll assume it was another idol contest that Japan loves throwing, though Ms. Mitsuki used her opportunity with the victory to go in a totally unique direction.

Instead of retreading chipper ol' synth-pop in cute/fetishistic outfits, Aira instead presented herself as a “techno-pop idol from the future”. Sure, we could always use more cyborbs in our dance-pop, and she accommodated this style by going full electro-house. No, wait, that's not right. With the heavy use of vocoders, auto-tune, and other digital effects on her voice, I'm hearing nu-italo in her tunes. Yes, that short-lived novelty genre of the early '00s, where it didn't matter what you sang or how badly you sang it, the machine would turn it into a catchy radio hit. Pair it up with bouncy, stylized dance-pop, and it's basically nu-italo half a decade past its peak popularity. But then, Japan has always been resistant to global trends in their music.

It's not all nu-italo though, with plenty of that mid-'00s electro house acid farting going on. Some tracks even take things into Ed Banger territory, Beep Count Fantastic and Rock'n Roll Is Dead in particular all sorts of garrish, chunky, abrasive electro-trash noisiness. Meanwhile, イエロー・スーパーカー is... happy breakcore? Where did this come from? The future, is where!

As for lyrics, even if I understood the language, the digital effects still render everything almost unintelligible. Which is fine for me who only like nu-italo on a dumb level. Sing about being blue or a Darling Wondering Staring, it all sounds the same to me.

Supercar - Highvision

Ki/oon: 2002

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Not shockingly, most reviews I write are filled with regurgitated factoids from other sources. Having gorged myself in certain scenes, however, I've some insight into artists, genres, and trends that may not be readily available elsewhere – I feel confident when I wax the bull about Ambient Album #314,219,110, it's with some knowledge on the matter. Even stuff I'm not so boned up on, like Japanese indie rock and pop, I can usually find some additional info, giving me a stronger foundation to work from – the wiki on Wednesday Campanella was most helpful. This Supercar though, I'm just not finding much from English sources, save one Hell of a loving 'review' for this particular album on Sputnik Music.

Holy cow, but does user davidwave4 ever get into it more than I could possibly hope to, settling for nothing less than calling Highvision Supercar's Kid A. That's... quite a comparison to make there, mang', one I've no idea is apt or not. Like, there's nothing on this album that sounds like Kid A - certainly no ambient drone pieces like Treefingers - but he's not making a one-to-one music relation. Rather, he's comparing Supercar's discographical narrative to Radiohead's, with Futurama being their OK Computer, thus Highvision their Kid A. More succinctly, Futurama was the schizophrenic embracing of technology, while Highvision is the uncertain merging, accepting that change has come, and we must make do with that reality no matter how unsettling it makes us feel. Sure, guy, you go with that. I never dove deep into Radiohead's music, so have to take other people's word that such proclamations of “this is [artist]'s Kid A” as legit. By the by, when did Kid A supplant Sgt. Pepper's that way?

Right, I should get into Highvision on my own terms, which means the best I can provide is a 'dumb listen'. No deep analysis of lyrics (I can't understand them most of the time, just like Radiohead's Thom Yorke!) or genre dissertation – just simple “d'is music do this, it make me feel like d'is!” interpretations. And whoa, that's quite the distorted techno kick opening things up in Starline. There's still a regular drum kit in play too, just with an added 909 crunchy-thunk. Then there's shoegazey guitars, dream pop singing, and it feels as though I'm being lulled into a hazy headspace. That's definitely a change of tone compared to the upbeat dance number of Futurama's Changes.

And that vibe is mostly maintained throughout Highvision, a remarkable feat considering the disparate styles of music among these ten tunes. Songs flit between electro-pop ditties (Warning Bell, Strobolights, I), shoegaze rock-outs (Storywriter, Otogi Nation), dreamy dance jangles (Yumegiwawa Last Boy), and whatever orchestra electro-glitch thing Nijiiro Darkness is. Heck, there's even a thematic return with closer Silent Yaritori, that crunchy 909 kick reappearing. And best of all, Highvision leaves me feeling elated and high in spirit, which is a better feeling than the dourness of Kid A.

Wednesday Campanella - Zipangu

Tsubasa Records: 2015

As I listened to my third Wednesday Campanella album (their first proper LP), I was struck with a curious quandary: just how important are lyrics in my music? I'm not talking about whether I need them or not – obviously a guy who listens to a lot of 'techno' doesn't require much more in the vocal department than some looping sample of downed systems. And that's not to say I'm anti-vocals either. There are plenty of lyricists I vibe on for their metaphors, similes, witty wordplay, fun phonetics, and singing cadence, artists I'd never have enjoyed if I didn't dig on the words they manifest. By the same token though, I don't necessarily need to understand the lyrics either, as I've taken in many an ethnic chant and foreign language with no greater appreciation of them other than they sound good in a their musical context. Heck, there's even a number of English singers out there where I may know the language, but have a difficult time understanding their words (death metal growlers, vocoder robots, Jamaican toasters, Jon Anderson of Yes).

So when listening to the opening track of Syakushain (rebel leader of the Ainu against the Matsumae clan), it just sounds like a charming, peppy traditional throwback tune with woodblocks and KOM_I rap-singing along. I had no idea she was actually doing something of a Japanese nightlife tour (I... think?) until watching the video with translated subtitles, and I found myself enjoying the tune more with that added context. On the other hand, the song Ra (sun god of Egyptian lore) also has an elaborate video with subtitles, but I'm not sure what the song's actually about beyond just a big, anthemic pop song. The subtitles also revealed more English words than I initially picked up, on account its mixed in with equal amounts Japanese, and KOM_I's brisk, accented singing makes it difficult for my stupid anglophone brain to keep up. I know the words, but don't glean any deeper meaning from them.

Thus, I'm generally reduced to enjoying what I can from Wednesday Campanella on 'dumb levels' again. Ooh, Uran-chan, that's got some cool juke production going on for it, and a neat spacey vibe too, which makes sense since I hear Astroboy in there (Uran-chan is 'Astrogirl'). Medusa (oh come on, you know who she is) is a fun j-pop house romp, while nifty guitar licks in Wright Kyoudai (flyboys) almost lend the tune a Japanese-Balearic vibe.

Yet, I also feel producer Kenmochi Hidefumi's trying just a bit too hard in fusing contemporary EDM with traditional Japanese songcraft. Could have done without the trap in Chohakkai (a Saiyuki character?), the mah-ssive, overblown snare crashes of Nishi Tamao (Google's got nothing), and he really, really, really loves abusing the stutter effects throughout – even BT would suggest pulling back some. Still, Zipangu is nothing if not a diverse album, which is more than can be said for most contemporary pop riding dance music's jock. Great videos too.

Wednesday Campanella - Superman

Warner Music Japan: 2017

The cover art to 水曜日のカンパネラ's Superman doesn't seem like much at a glance. If anything, it reminds me of Garth Brooks' weirdo-concept Chris Gaines album, and given this group's predilection towards famous people references, I can't help but suspect that's deliberate. The image, however, is but one piece of a larger canvas ...or rather, the top corner of a huge, 3x4 panel poster, revealing lead singer KOM_I (I think?) suckling a foot's large toe. Oh, and when I say huge, I mean it, one panel looking like it could hold a 7” record rather than a CD. Also, Superman didn't even come in a regular jewel case, but rather as a fold-out with a little rubber nub in one panel to hold the CD, and a cardboard insert so it doesn't flop about. This is one of the few times I've actually kept the wrap cover, just so it doesn't get damaged. And boy howdy, could I ever go on about the backside of this poster, if I had any hope of reading geometric shapes and swirling pools of kanji.

After their kinda-sorta debut mini-album Rashōmon, Suiyoubi no Campanella found themselves a fair bit of fame in their motherland, and a growing following the world abroad, such that one of the Big Important Labels came a'knockin' to hear what the fuss was about (and whether they may capitalize on it). Definitely a surprise it was Warner Music that took them in – was Sony not available?

Anyhow, bigger, slicker label backing means Wednesday Campanella's proper sophomore LP is... well, not exactly bigger, but definitely slicker. Their previous album Zipangu stood out for its free-wheeling genre fusions, and while Superman indulges itself in similar fashion, it's got a cleaner, poppier sheen to it too, smoothing out many rougher edges, as though fully expecting to capitalize on an audience in Western lands. It didn't surprise me the slightest when a co-worker heard some playing and remarked it sounded like Kygo.

And the peppy, anthem house that's marked much of their work returns in tracks like アラジン, 一休さん, and オードリー. Elsewhere, the house beats go more chill, as in チンギス・ハン and アマノウズメ. They're fine, with Kenmochi's production maintaining a solid groove while throwing in tons of little sonic fills without being obnoxious about it. I'm still more interested in the tunes that break the beats up some, even getting tribal at times as in チャップリン and カメハメハ大王. Reminds me I'm listening to something authentically foreign, rather than something trying to sound local. Not that KOM_I's playful raps and Far East harmonies don't constantly remind me either, still resolutely Japanese even with a few English words thrown in. Despite having some translations, I still don't have much idea of what she's singing about, but that doesn't really matter, the band freely admitting their lyrics are less about their content than what just sounds good for the tune. Hey, works for jazz, man.

Wednesday Campanella - Rashōmon

Tsubasa Records: 2013

If you've paid any attention to the comments section this past season, this just might be the singularly most-anticipated review of an artist I've ever done. True, it's just one individual, but I'm sure the rest of y'all were at least a little curious what the fuss was about. And I cannot deny I was somewhat intrigued by the prospects of diving into something I'd never have stumbled upon in my own music wanderings.

Almost everything I've ever consumed from Japan has had some domestic influence and distribution first. Ken Ishii's brand of techno still has ties to Detroit heritage. Hybrid Leisureland's brand of ambient isn't much removed from the works of Brain Eno and Harold Budd. Koichi Sugiyama's orchestral arrangements are practically homages to European classical and American bop. Even J-Pop, the forever soundtrack to every anime credits sequence ever, takes its cues from whatever the West was doing first. It's exceedingly rare that I'll hear music direct and unfiltered from The Land Of The Rising Sun.

This though, there's no mistaking its place of origin. Artist name completely in kanji, the title a reference to a famed samurai (or at least the Akira Kurosawa film of the same name), And just look at this cover, the lead singer dressed in a kimono while chillin' at a tea house. I bet it's some sort of traditional folksy stuff, then, or maybe lounge jazz, in a very Japanese style. Ooh, opera, even! Time to throw some green tea on the stove, order in some take-out sushi, and get culture-fied!

And... it's EDM. Huh. Well, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that.

I should get into some actual background before going any further. The group involved is 水曜日のカンパネラ, or Suiyōbi no Campanella, or Wednesday Campanella. Comprised of vocalist KOM_I, and producers Kenmochi Hidefumi and Dir.F, the group have gained some note in their homeland for encompassing a myriad of genres with broad appeal, such that they've recently found footholds with Western audiences too. After a few early EPs, Rashōmon gave them their first taste of chart success, though barely so.

As said, the music itself is basically what you'd expect of most EDM this past decade. Tracks like Monopoly, Motoko, Marie Antoinette, and Fujiko do the anthem house thing with big, shiny synths and plucky hooks. Some tracks get in on that light, brisk broken-beat action (Hoshi Ittetsu, Alibaba God Emperor), others paring it down to a chill, lounge pace (Char, Takehisa Yumeji). And while the EDM influences dominate, there are traces of Japanese tonal harmonies and instruments scattered about. As for KOM_I, she sounds nice throughout, hitting enthusiastic vocal highs where appropriate while injecting playful raps here and there. Apparently the lyrics mostly deal with people of historical import, but I wouldn't know, English the only language I've learned with any fluency. Like Latin house though, that doesn't prevent me from enjoying it on a purely dumb level either.