Clive Tanaka y su Orquesta - Jet Set Siempre 1° 6.4

                 Clive Tanaka y Su Orquesta has an interesting backstory: it was created by a Clive Tanaka, a Japanese hikikomori who found his voice through this project. Hikikormori withdraw from society. Eventually he found his voice and willingness to interact with others through the power of his love of music. That sweetness appears quite often in the album. 

                The music is warm and inviting. Plenty of people are mining this sort of sound, and Clive does well in it, but many of the songs fail to distinguish themselves. Instead, the album goes on in a blur of sad pop nostalgia. 

                Songs like “Neu Chicago” offer signs pointing to a better future. Vocals are so happy, longing for happiness. Following up on that is one of my other favorites on here, the casual “Skinjob”. Otherwise the songs recycle a lot of the 80s style of music that’s become so trendy.

                Basically, the entire album is well-done but nothing quite manages to capture the attention or imagination. Clive clearly enjoys his equipment, and is capable of writing some great melodies when he’s inspired. The two aforementioned songs are the heart, but it feels the entire album is a letdown otherwise. I’m certain he’ll continue working on this profusely, and will be able to create a full album with the potential those two songs offer.

Nobukazu Takemura – Scope 9.4

Oval might have created the template for glitch music, but Nobukazu Takemura gave it soul. Beginning in a surprisingly quiet manner with “On a Balloon” it builds up. Stopping for field recordings, it breathes more life into the environment. And despite its very obvious digital origins, there’s a large amount of warmth within these sounds. Somehow Nobukazu avoids the usual glitch obsession with technical detail to come up with something that has emotional resonance as well.

“Kepler” is a bit easier to get into. Using more human sounds, it has a familiar feel to it, like a warm blanket of sound keeping you snug in the winter. “Taw” does the opposite; it is extremely cold and nearly devoid of life, with large pauses of silent to heighten tension. This is as difficult as the album gets. 

None of these track compare with the track “Icefall”. Every so often you’ll be listening to an album, sort of into it, and a song comes up. This song makes you re-evaluate everything you just heard. Consider it a “Rosetta Stone” for the artist’s intention. “Icefall” is such a track. Whenever I’m feeling down or blue, this always manages to cheer me up. Words fail me with this; it flutters about like a butterfly. Listening to it, it makes me think about what would happen if a computer wrote a love song.

Honestly, what I can tell you about this album is have patience. If you’ve had previous exposure to glitch, that would help. But if you’re worried, I’d suggest listening to “Icefall” first and then deciding whether or not to give the rest a go. Obviously I’d strongly suggest this to just about anyone.

NHK – Unununium 7.0

             Raster Noton went into a bizarre hybrid in this release. Sadly, it is only an EP. For those of you curious, Kouhei Matsunaga does have a full length out under his name called “Self VA”. What you’re treated to here is industrial noise levels meets hip hop. 

                Oh, it is pretty sweet and loud. Yet it doesn’t actually sound like a lot of stuff on Raster. Most Raster stuff doesn’t hit so hard, or deal as much with distortion and loudness. It references more popular forms of music a bit less obtuse (read: obvious) than his counterparts. Despite this, it isn’t exactly accessible music. If you have a fondness for industrial this may suit you.

                Melodies, there are none. I couldn’t find them anyway; they are usually hidden as tiny little fragments. The focus is on rhythm. At all times that focus is razor sharp, it feels like you’re just swimming through beats or the remnants of beats. Head-nodding never felt so weird.

Mameshiba: The Science of Cuteness

                 Mameshiba are not your ordinary advertising campaign. When Dentsu advertising agency unleashed this level of cuteness upon the world, we were not prepared. Without having anything to sell, they instead focused on having the bean dogs (Mame means bean, and Shiba means dog) mention random tidbits of trivia. They’d pop out of whatever you were eating and dispense such pearls of wisdom as:

                “An ostrich’s brain is smaller than its eye, so it quickly forgets what it just learned” – Lentil Bean.

                Besides giving out this sort of information, each bean dog has their own specific personality. Some are smarter, more willing to travel than others, whether it be by shell or pod. A few dabble in poetry and learning new things. Each one (or collective group in some cases) has their own mini-feature on their own website:

Mameshiba!

                According to Atsushi Higashiyama, their success is an unexpected surprise. They are everywhere in Japan. On the internet people have made their own tribute videos to the successful bean dogs. While the penetration into the American market has been somewhat limited (they showed up at the San Diego Comic Con, to give you an idea of the audience) they do have a certain universal appeal, even if their cartoons are still in Japanese. The subtitles help, and a few times they have put the cartoons fully into English, such as the case for the Jelly Beans.

                What I wonder about as I see them is the science of cuteness. What makes us react almost uniformly to certain cues? Even Dentsu the creators stated they were shocked by the surprise, yet were confident enough in their creation to allow them to exist as characters first before selling any product. That’s considerably different from most advertising campaigns, where we bond with the character after knowing the product, like the Flo girl (from the Progressive commercials, another form of cuteness). 

                The New York Times had an article about the science of cute in 2005 (Article). According to the Times article, the cues of cute display extreme youth, vulnerability, harmlessness and need. Somehow we are wired to take care of the most pathetic and lowly. Originally this wiring was due to taking care of offspring, but the wiring is so strong that anything resembling extreme youth, whether panda bears, kittens, etc. can trigger this reaction. 

                Dentsu incorporated these images of vulnerability by using the beans. The beans come out food, out of soups, and are about to be eaten. You worry whether or not they are about to be eaten, and their tenuous situation after dispensing their information. Usually the recipients of said information are taken aback, as shown by black lines and drop-out of color. 

                Corporations increasing rely on this imagery to soften things up. Artists use it too, to get a more gut response to their work. A few artists I know explore the science of cuteness with very specific cute materials, such as knit teddy bears placed into various playful poses or hand puppets. Both of these examples use materials we’d recognize from our youth to form a greater bond with the art than would otherwise be the case.

                I’d strongly suggest to anyone to see these absolutely adorable clips. Each one shows off a certain flair for short story-telling.

Acid Eater – Dirty EP 4.8

Acid Eater specialize in fuzzed out romps into 60s garage band. They aren’t particularly original with their execution (this thing has been done literally hundreds of times) but their enthusiasm is greatly appreciated. 

                Beginning with “Dirty” you hear Yamazaki Maso’s vocals swimming through a large amount of distortion and drums. The drums help to paint the scene, but it is really the guitar that makes the song. Never going particularly crazy, it is joined by a simple organ riff to make a pretty effectively catchy song. 

                “I gotta move” isn’t as instantly likable. Rather, it sounds like a less-effective variation on the previous song. The organ gets a greater workout on here, but with far less enjoyable execution. For the finale, they have the near-noise level remix of “Susie’s Gone”

                Honestly, this isn’t bad. Japan and most of the world has these sorts of bands. There’s nothing particularly bad about the EP, it just is a bit too much of a copycat of literally hundreds of other bands.

ROM=Pari – View 6.9

If this sounds vaguely familiar, it should. Before Com.A and Joseph Nothing did their own thing, they made this. A mixture of beats and occasionally charming melodies shine through. Later on these two brothers would accomplish bigger, greater things. But it stands on its own merits as well.

“Thanks for the party” starts things up with virtually every percussive instrument they could find. Samples run rampant, for good “Here They Scum” and bad “Albert Fish”. Mostly, the songs work out best when they have them running through the halls screaming. In case the first half of the album isn’t working out for you (due to the high energy levels) there’s always part two, which seems to take a more relaxed approach.

Overall, this is a pretty decent IDM album. My personal preference would be for the more high-energy tracks on here, which feel better done. Some might call this breakcore, but realistically that isn’t true. While chaotic, it never reaches such levels of aggression. It remains a happy, if somewhat lite, offering of IDM from Japan.

Akita/Azuma/Haswell/Sakaibara – Ich Schnitt Mich In Den Finger 5.6

Considering the amount of talent in these proceedings it is a surprisingly boring affair. Russell Haswell is a pretty intense, detail-oriented character and the rest worked with Merzbow during his live performances. Yet, for whatever reason, a lot of this dwells in the quieter spectrum of things, and the sounds are annoying cheesy.

                The opener “Ich” does increase the volume and intensity. Here is probably the only place where the Theremin works to benefit rather than to the detriment of the piece. If you had to encounter any part of this piece, here would be the best place to choose.

                Other than the opening which has some interesting moments, the rest of it is relatively bland. Merzbow runs into the same problem they usually have: by focusing on output more than quality, they end up with a few dazzling moments and the rest as an extreme form of sonic wallpaper. This is a pity too, because Mego tends to have better pretty high standards for noise releases. Even for die-hard Russell Haswell or Merzbow fans, this is rather empty.

Otomo Yoshihide - The Night Before the Death of the Sampling Virus 7.9

I have no idea what’s going on half the time here. Otomo worked with glitches in CDs so early on (this came out in 93) that he needed to explain to people what was going on. What is now an everyday thing was not so common place, even in the experimental Japanese noise scene. 

None of this gets coherent. Samples ranges from random Japanese advertisements to harsh noise. There is no in between, no melody, no development. This is some of the most nothing music ever, it is as you’re listening to the sound of infected pop culture.

Despite this lack of coherence, there’s something very appealing in it. Even after so many people have attempted this same sort of fragmentary structure, it sounds fresh. Maybe it has to do with the amount of freedom he gives each sample. Or perhaps by having 77 tracks, some of which are only a few seconds long, things never get stuck in a rut.

Oddly appealing for anyone with an interest in experimental electronic or free jazz (of which it shares a similar disregard).

Is Perfume’s music video for “Monochrome Effect” the most intensive exploration of love ever?

Watching Perfume’s music video, I am filled with the greatest of joys. Seeing these young Japanese women explore what is the most intense human emotion known to man is a true thrill. Often I sit at home wondering whether people even care about others the way I do. After watching this trio, I know that I am not alone in believing in true love.

It starts up with them in a brightly lit tube. The large bowties they are wearing are a clear and obvious homage to Klaus Nomi, famed German singer. Like Mr. Nomi, they have a great vocal range from cute to adorable. While they synchronize their perfect dance moves, the focus suddenly shifts to them manning a pink shark time machine. 

As they sail further back in time, they reminisce about the love they used to have. But the close-ups on the singers show that they are in fact smiling now, happy to be living. They warn the listeners to avoid Emil Cioran’s gloomy conclusions on life and death. Instead, they remark that had Emil heard their music, he would have changed his famous quote to: “without Perfume, God would be a second-rate figure” and “Perfume’s music is the only argument proving the creation of the Universe cannot be regarded as a complete failure.” 

They sing in front of a black and white background explaining how important it is to fully appreciate the present. A perky beat and a positively divine melody accompany this moodier part of the song, as they discuss loves long lost. Despite losing love, they still manage to dance on, unaware of their dancing inability. Indeed, much of the song acts as a balm, reassuring others that they are far superior dancers than they.

Shifts continue at a greater pace between the past and the present. Lyrics emphasize the importance of not dwelling on the past, but moving forward into the future. They state that the greatest love you should have is for the future and helping your fellow man. 

Referencing the experience had by the Icarians, they talk about the need to live communally and to trust others with your tender affection. A kaleidoscopic image of all of them appear, now extolling how that communal spirit was reflected in the beliefs of the late 60s, of peace and love. Their journey on the time machine continues to explore the dynamics of what can be done as a community so that these beliefs will flourish in the future.

Showing off the importance of community is the city itself. It bobs up and down behind the girls as they are raised on pedestals, as rulers of the new future. Even the moon shines on the, gently rocking back and forth, caressed by their tender words. 

Finally, at the end their words echo in the right channel of your hearing. This is a deliberate hope that you’ll realize good things can repeat themselves, whether they be Japanese pop songs or a utopian dream of the future. As the last chord dims out, they wave their hands in a great goodbye to their wonderful audience. 

PS. In case I needed further confirmation of this song’s greatness, I got it. One of my friends will be playing this at their wedding. Think I have all the proof I need.

Should we have cuter “Chief of Police” in order to bring down crime?

The power of cute compels you!

Marisol Valles Garcia is beginning a new wave of stop crime. You may be familiar with the “broken windows” theory of fighting crime. This theory stated that if you catch people for smaller crimes, you’ll end that feeling of helplessness that engulfs the area. Due in part to this and various economic factors New York City saw the crime rate drop.

Ms. Garcia’s new wave is the wave of cuteness. An adorable 20 year old college student has decided to take on the unstoppable crime wave with purely her cute skills. Perhaps she’ll transform herself into a kind of Pokémon, using her powers to defeat the most hardened of criminals Mexico’s drug cartels have to offer in Praxedis G. Guerrero.

Initially these evil fiends might try to take advantage of this criminology student. Of course, they won’t realize her true powers until it is too late. 

As they rough up various citizens of her town, she’s suddenly jump up into the air, loudly screaming “Pika” and they won’t know what will happen next. Earth’s energy will be tapped as she releases that final “Chu” and lighting flies out of her hands, terrifying the evil doers. Terrified, the evil doers will stop their villainous ways and start publishing tumblrs showing the beauty of nature. 

There’s precedent for this of course. Post-War Japan has enjoyed one of the lowest crime rates out of any other country in the world. Some attribute this to a relatively prosperous and equal distribution of wealth. But this doesn’t hold up against closer investigation.

Upon its defeat following World War II, Japan became a pacifist nation. In those terms of surrender, that was one of the main agreements. Another, smaller agreement had to be that all advertisements had to include at least 50% cartoon characters or cartoon-like humans. This has gone unnoticed, and initially the population was like “WTF is this? Why are cartoon characters selling me feminine hygiene products” but now it has become an integral part of their life. Psychologists in the United States explored this topic extensively during World War II via the Warner Brother’s propaganda cartoons and realized this is what galvanized our forces against the enemy. So it got tried in Japan as a first trial for the experiment. 

Cartoon characters and cuteness in general can have the same effect in Mexico against the drug cartels. Those who run drug cartels are often thought to be heartless bastards due to their penchant for dissolving dead bodies in vats of acid. But even they will be unable to resist cartoon characters with eyes that shine like a blue million miles.

I hope that Ms. Garcia is able to turn the tide and again make her fellow citizens feel safe enough to go outside again. Godspeed You! College Student.

So – So 8.1

So came after the last major Oval release. Being used to Oval’s usual bag of tricks, I didn’t expect anything radically different from his highly-processed noises sculpted into almost music.

Oddly enough, Erika’s vocals and guitar are actually kept in tact for long enough portions. Markus seems to have scaled back his digital chaos, instead using it more as a support to her songs than something to overwhelm. For tracks like “C” it sounds like Markus has overcome the criticism that he can only make sound, not songs. With a breezy guitar and gentle lyrics, it feels like it belongs to another artist. Erika did originally write the thing, so it is technically hers. However, the fact that Markus allowed it to speak for her for the most part is highly unusual for him.

“E” might be the closest we get to the Oval we know and love. This one too stays on the sidelines in terms of sheer volume, allowing fragments of quiet tones make their emotional imprint.

That’s probably the reason I like this album so much. Emotionally, it gives rather than taking like so much of Oval’s work after 94 Diskont did. Sure, this isn’t exactly pop music; there are too many strange arrangements of singing and CD noise to allow that. But it does attempt to bring Oval closer to humanity, to the concerns and thoughts of others. Plus, his defined approach to the source material is heartening. Perhaps he is human after all.

Sachiko M – Salon de Sachiko 7.6

Sachiko works in an extremely small field of electronic improvisation called ONYKO. Originally it started out as a very “DIY” kind of music, using only empty samplers and torturing them into creating sound. Think of the exact opposite of noise, leaving only the absolute silences of space.

This is perhaps her quietest, most patient work. Rather than have the sound paint the silence, the silence paints the sound. What I mean is that the huge amount of negative space within the recording gives it a very meditative quality. Plus, the almost by chance randomness of the sounds tends to startle the listener a bit more than a constant drone or bass would have.

L-NE has nothing on this really. Even the most extreme practitioners of microsound/minimalism usually have a constant drone or bass in the background, in order to anchor things. Richard Chartier does this, so does Taylor Deupree, Steve Roden, Bernhard Gunter, and a slew of other similarly minded artists. Simply put, there is nobody who devotes themselves to the extreme silence the way Sachiko does.

Basically, it might be nearly impossible to find the absolute perfect listening conditions for this lowercase music. Your best option might be in some sort of sound-proof booth. Even nature, even the night creates far too much sound and hyper-activity for you to get easily distracted. Not something you’d listen to every day, but it definitely is an experience that will not be easily forgotten.

Alva Noto – For 7.8

While everyone went crazy over Carsten Nicolai’s work with Ryuichi Sakamoto’s piano, I thought they were missing out on this. Sure, everything sounds more emotional once it comes from an organic instrument, a greater challenge would be to get that same sort of emotional response from delicate electronics.

“For” sets out to do just that. Later, he’d follow up with these more melodic, less rhythm based songs in Xerrox 1 and 2. But when I first heard these, I was shocked. Hearing him move away from his natural environment of harsh clicks, cuts, and general noise was pretty shocking.

Shock still plays a part in this, often with the songs starting out the way much of his better-known work is. “Counter” plays to that effect, working its way up to screeching hiss. From there, you hear a naïve, stumbling melody. Those same light touches are heard throughout “Station Remo” and “Transit”. Others use high pitches to get the melody across, often over an extended period of time.

Apparently these all are dedicated to various composers. I’d be curious which composer was the inspiration for “JR” easily the most innocent and child-like of all the songs on here. This one sounds like it wouldn’t be out of place in a PBS commercial for Sesame Street.

Put simply, these songs are grand, and despite the fact they were written over an extended period of time, they form into a coherent whole.