Issue #19: Live Online but with YOU!
Exploring Frascotation's debut album, Ken Hirai's cover of "Grandfather's Clock," and the state of online concerts from the past six months
Hi! Welcome to This Side of Japan, a newsletter about Japanese music, new and old! You can check out previous issues here.
Almost half a year since Japan first went under quarantine, online shows have become more and more a regular way for musicians to perform in front of their fans during the pandemic. The streaming concerts are a must for big artists who used to regularly command arenas for their previous ways would place their audience at a health risk. Some smaller acts have recently begun to put on shows for a live audience at brick-and-mortar venues—most with implemented safety measures from what I know—but they, too, still mostly go online to deliver their new music.
Big or small, artists nowadays play at essentially the same venue of the internet while encountering the same challenge: how can we make this new type of show worthwhile for our fans and their hard-earned money? While many artists of different tiers and resources have responded in a lot of unique ways, it’s been intriguing to find them all facing another related question that they all must answer in their own interpretation: what does an online concert look like?
Within the first month of quarantine, at the end of April, Travis Scott hosted a digital concert in the video-game world of Fortnite; Kenshi Yonezu later did a similar event for the game in August. While there was no giant avatar of the J-pop star like Scott’s show and instead a feed of his performance streaming via a virtual in-game screen, fans still got to join together as their Fortnite avatars to experience it all. This type of scene, of fans and musician meeting in a digital world as their virtual selves, was what was probably in the public imagination when a term like “virtual concert” was still a fresh concept in the wake of the pandemic.
But of course, not everyone’s music warrants such an environment to experience it. The typical online concert has unfolded more or less as a translation of an artist’s physical concerts for online broadcast. The absence of an audience can heavily cut into the viewing experience. When Number Girl streamed their would-be comeback tour set in March, a little less than a month before official quarantine, the lack of crowd response to their intense punk rock left an incomplete feeling in the air. But as bands continued to adapt to a new normal, they’ve started to work out the kinks and a band like Sakanaction has presented a thrilling compromise between the analog and digital with the latter enhancing the former. (Patrick St. Michel has more about Sakanaction’s show last month on his great newsletter.)
A no-audience show I loved by an upper-tier artist was Keyakizaka46’s “Live Online but with YOU” show. No longer confined to the specs of an arena, they took advantage of the multi-studio space as well as elaborate sets and the magic of camera work to present what looked like an elegant live TV special. It made me think what could be done by a pop act like Wednesday Campanella, who had so much fun breaking the rules and manners of a TV live broadcast. Or imagine Perfume and their Rhizomatiks visual team collaborating for some digital visual performance as they’ve done in the past.
Even then, most musicians don’t have the budget of a Sakanaction, Perfume or Keyakizaka46. But for all they lack, with only their own charisma and maybe some fancy camera work, the small-timers provide worthy competition against the big players. I see this a lot in the idol world—a scene full of players that work best with limitations. Migma Shelter may only had a well-built set and multiple cameras at their disposal, but the group already boasts such a physically engaging performance style—a non-stop dance from one song to another, which they call “raves” to match their psych-trance concept—that it just pours out from the screen regardless of the tech specs.
Lyrical School’s three-part Remote Free Live series have been my favorite COVID-time shows thus far. As a fan, the first one was just a breath of fresh air as they premiered it a couple weeks into my own quarantine. The five simply rapped in the comfort of their own rooms with their pre-recorded performances shown in vertical screens to further enhance Smartphone-era intimacy. They were stuck inside like the rest of us, trying their best to enjoy music in a way we were accustomed to; Yuu rapped in PJs and used a whisk as a mic. The third and last live recreated that five-screen format but after they were done with their first song, the big reveal was that they’ve finally returned an actual venue—with no audience, natch—to perform their new songs together as a group. It was classic idol joy of following this natural narrative in tandem with the music and the joys of live performance.
An online concert doesn’t necessarily have to feature the most state-of-the-art gadgets or spectacular visuals. All an artist needs is a simple, exciting idea. I wish to see more bands do something like Hitsujibungaku’s recent sets where the indie-rock band performed their EPs in full over a course of three days. Idol group RYUTist have already one-upped them, with each show dedicated to performing one of their four amazing full-lengths in its entirety. A one-of-a-kind set list alone goes a long way, and it reminds that it all goes back to the music no matter how the presentation and venues change.
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Before we move on to the main sections, I wanted to share some of my recent Japanese music-related writings outside of the newsletter:
I interviewed the legendary experimental musician Phew for Tone Glow. The interview is available in both English and Japanese.
I blurbed about Ringo Shiina’s Shoso Strip and m-flo’s Planet Shining for Tone Glow’s 2000 albums issue.
I posted a new column in my Conversation series, where I discussed the idol group Sora Tob Sakana with my friend Fabricio. We talked about their discography and what made them so special during their six-year run.
And now, the regularly scheduled program! Happy listening!
Album of the Week
Kokyuu No Keshiki by Frascotation [High Beam]
Recommended track: “Function”
Kokyuu No Keshiki may be the debut statement of Frascotation, but it refuses to remain as a static snapshot. The album’s spread-out track list predicts where the indie-rock band will go next as it simultaneously traces their roots. About half of the record consists of re-recorded tracks first featured in their two 2018 EPs, Boushingekika and Innocent Utopia. While the four share their own growth as musicians in those revamped songs, they sign off the record by exploring outside of their comfort zones.
The tracks culled from Boushingekika makes the case that Frascotation came out the gates already with a well-defined sound and style. Those early songs also find the band partially wearing their influences on their sleeve: the sleek, white-hot guitar tones of their emo-adjacent riffs as well as the constant activity of the guitars click when you see the members talk about bands like 9mm Parabellum Bullet or Tricot as part of their origin story. The band’s first-ever song “Kouin” works well as a foundational core in which they either sharpen or expand upon.
The newer songs take on the latter strategy of figuring how to loosen their energy without losing the spark. “Gyoukan” plays around with a more laid-back lightness in their guitar lines than their usual dead-heat sprints. The band puts more pop bounce to their elaborate rock riffs in “Youyami Escape,” and it recalls vocalist Mami Sato explaining how Frascotation first began by copying Polkadot Stingray. The most rewarding innovation comes in “Madoromi” with the band considerably slowing the tempo only for them to allow Sato’s dreamy lyrics and the evocative, shoegaze-esque riffs to hit even harder.
That said, Frascotation yield the best results when they sharpen and improve upon their established foundations. They show off their guitar chops right away in the album opener “Snowdome,” taming a shiny, serpentine riff to lead a song about a doomed love. When the guitar’s volume, tone and velocity match Sato’s frank, often bleak lyrics, it brings such a powerful moment of catharsis. “Even if we died, the world probably wouldn’t find out,” she sighs in “Function” as the music briefly quiets down before the chorus, only for the guitars to burst back into the song as does the very weight of Sato’s bitter loneliness.
The inclusion of earlier material lends Kokyuu No Keshiki to be one of the year’s heftier releases, especially from an indie-rock band, clocking in at almost an hour. But the track list comes from a place of love and pride of their own work: the short instrumental “23-58” serves as an intro to Boushingekika track “Vivid” just like their live sets, and “Dress” provides the female perspective to the same narrative of the preceding track “Suimei,” according to Sato. The old songs of Frascotation guide the new. Kokyuu No Keishiki arranges them in a way so the album appears to not be a finish line but a crossroads between the paths taken and the roads the band will take next.
Singles Club
“Egao Wo Tsurete” ft. Shiho Nanba by Connie [Fall Wait]
The Negicco universe is so strong right now (Fig. 1 & Fig. 2) that you can observe its strength even in its satellite bodies. The new single by Connie, a producer very close to the trio, takes on more of a casual affair with cheery pop-rock music that gets guest vocalist Shiho Nanba feeling ready to tackle the day. “It’s alright / sometimes there are days you can’t get over,” she sings. “But let’s just keep on singing.” The sunniness of the pop song helps dispel any bit of gloom away. Just look at Negicco member Megu, who’s featured in the music video fooling around indoors on a lovely summer’s day.
Voices II EP is out now. Listen to it on Spotify.
See also: “Marmalade” by Ayami Muto; “Soieba Taiwan” by Fujin Club
“Goku Vibes” ft. Tohji, Elle Teresa, Uneducated Kid, Futuristic Swayver by DJ Chari & DJ Tatsuki [Air Waves]
DJ Chari and DJ Tatsuki have been fantastic matchmakers of rappers this year, and the duo go three for three with “Goku Vibes.” Maybe you can already hear how a song with that title sounds before you even check out the string of names attached to it. The glossy pop-rap beat is a few tweaks away from becoming a lost PC Music track (or, hey, the Super Saiyans of Sicko Mobb, the early progenitors of this style), and the Auto-Tune levels on everyone’s vocals are cranked to the max. Tohji in particular is totally in his element, sounding immaculate just naming off the roster with this heavy vocal filter.
Listen to the single on Spotify.
See also: “I Love Me” by 4s4ki & Masayoshi Iimori
“Sora No Ashiato” by Lang [3LA]
Lang is ready to unwind their tight yet melodic punk riffs into an extensive, sprawling post-hardcore jam in “Sora No Ashiato”—or “Footprints of the Sky”—and the impending change in tone is even more detectable in the spoken-word-like passage. The screamo band initially favor sound, poetic observations, likening the sky as a body of calm and nostalgia. But their growing frustration layers with the build-up of the music, eventually blowing up in one biting, straightforward lyric: “give it back,” they scream as though they’ve been deeply wronged.
Cahier EP is out now. Listen to it on Bandcamp.
See also: “Fade Away” by Graupel; “Outsiders” by Sedai
This Week in 2002…
“Ookina Furudokei” by Ken Hirai [DefStar, 2002]
No. 1 during the weeks of Sept. 9 - 30, 2002 | Listen to it on Spotify
It was this, the Japanese cover of “My Grandfather’s Clock,” that scored Ken Hirai his first Oricon number one. The singer had been riding the coattails of the rising R&B boom in J-pop since his arrival in 1995, and his singles began shooting up to the top 10 range by the turn of the millennium. The singles of the time like “Why” and “Kiss of Life” showed his savvy with the then-cutting-edge, zigzagging type of R&B; the balladry of “Miracles” met the former’s beats halfway. But it was this forlorn cover of an old standard that got him top spot.
The release of Hirai’s cover had to do more with his performance of the song on a NHK special, Ken Hirai Beyond Paradise: America in Search of the Grandfather’s Clock. The singer traveled to America to learn more about the origins of the standard for the 2001 TV documentary, and he sang his Japanese version at the end of the program. The CD release came later to satisfy any viewer’s want to re-listen to the performance. It’s the 2002 equivalent of a TV-premiered song hitting streaming as a single after broadcast, like Taylor Swift’s “Only the Young” hitting Spotify after the premiere of her Netflix doc Miss Americana.
Hirai’s past singles were perhaps simply up against tough competition for the top spot. The charts in 2000 looked intimidating for any artist whose name wasn’t Hikaru Utada or Ayumi Hamasaki; the latter’s “Endless Sorrow” blocked Hirai’s “Kiss of Life,” stuck at second place. However, the longevity of “Ookina Furudokei,” hanging in there for four consecutive weeks, suggests a bit more than dumb luck especially as it beat pop talents like Namie Amuro, Mai Kuraki, and BoA—twice!
“Ookina Furudokei” does what a good cover can do: unearth a new detail from a familiar song. The translated lyrics, which slightly differ from the English original, follow the famous version first introduced by NHK in 1962. While the Japanese take on the standard fleshes out more of the narrative background surrounding the fabled clock—“the old clock knows everything / the old grandfather’s clock / a beautiful bride arrived / it was moving that day too”—Hirai adds a personal element to the details. The context of the show paints him like a chosen messenger to spread the story of a precious life, and isolated as song, he sounds like the very owner of an heirloom, preserving its melancholy history.
The next issue is out September 30. You can check out previous issues here.
Questions? Comments? Concerns? You can email me at ryomiyauchi9@gmail.com.