Issue #65: New Neighbors
More about the new Homecomings album, plus discussion on L'Arc~en~Ciel, their British New Wave roots and their classic 1999 hit "Heaven's Drive"
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L’Arc~en~Ciel has been a band that I’ve long struggled to hear its music as something other than itself. Their works deal with the rock idiom, a product of a classic singer-guitar-bass-drums formation, but to my ears, they don’t neatly resemble records put out by bands who model a certain subgenre popular among the Western music canon. Punk, for example, explained more of their visual aesthetics during their late ‘90s period, if that, than their guitar-playing; they indulged in too many solos to confuse them in the lineage of bands who defined the CBGB scene. Glam is in their roots, though their display of the style didn’t look exactly like the homages happening in the U.K. during the same decade.
I’ve mostly seen other enthusiasts settle for the tag of visual-kei to categorize the music of L’Arc. But that presents a whole different issue: visual-kei, too, has been challenging for me to pick apart in reference to things other than itself. I definitely lack the knowledge of the scene’s music to hear it and pick it apart in detail. For a novice, though, I think visual kei on record also seems more a feeling than any specific sound. That melodramatic emoting in the vocals, for instance, can let even the most adjacent of J-rock to echo some V-kei in it: the music of TK from Ling Tosite Sigure isn’t V-kei, though from the way he sings, I also sometimes dare to claim it’s not not V-kei. And for me, L’Arc after the albums ark and ray is more of the genre in feeling.
This past year or so, I’ve made it a personal undertaking to learn more about L’Arc in hopes to hear their music for their influences. My work for this was already cut out actually to some capacity when my research on the music of Ippu-Do as well as Luna Sea’s SUGIZO for this very newsletter led me back to the British New Wave. It turns out, like SUGIZO, L’Arc’s vocalist hyde loved the music of David Sylvian, whose former band Japan helped bring on the British New Wave—a scene that echoes in the music of many bands formative to ‘90s visual kei like Luna Sea and eventually L’Arc~en~Ciel.
It’s been rewarding to have my personal research on older Japanese music take me back to Western rock bands who I’ve not thought about since, well, I began trying to brush up more on Japanese music history. I get to listen to the works in the Western rock canon in another light. I actually had little interest in ‘70s glam and ‘80s British New Wave until I learned about how it impacted my favorite Japanese artists. As I tried to learn more about L’Arc’s music, I also got to hear bands like The Cure, Dead or Alive and Duran Duran with fresh ears. Experiences like this honestly keeps me going and commit to more deep dives as research for this newsletter.
Spoiler alert: this issue looks back on a L’Arc single as the Oricon flashback. I don’t want to go too far off tangent in that section, and so I decided to reserve space here to talk about what I learned while trying to decipher the influence behind the music of L’Arc in general so far. I wanted to talk about what kind of bands L’Arc reminds me of, and who their songs got me to revisit. For these selections, I heavily refer to this radio show from 2014 hosted by hyde, where he chose songs from British New Wave that he saw as his creative roots. This is more a hint to better understand their music than anything definitive; I understand it represents hyde’s input more than anyone else in the band. But I found this deep dive fun, and so I hope it’s as fun reading through it.
“Forbidden Colours” by David Sylvian & Ryuichi Sakamoto [Virgin, 1983]
I’ve already been guided to the music of Japan and David Sylvian from two previous deep dives in research of the discography of SUGIZO as well as Ippu-Do’s Masami Tsuchiya, artists of whom are both in proximity to the roots of visual kei. And so it was personally fulfilling for hyde to bring up Sylvian’s name once more as a favorite in his 2014 My Playlist radio show.
Interestingly, Sylvian’s former band Japan didn’t lure hyde in as much as Sylvian’s solo works. The selections by the singer of L’Arc featured more bedazzled, post-disco picks like Duran Duran on the same radio show, and the choices check out hearing the guitar tones in a single like “Lies and Truth” or “DIVE TO BLUE”: Maybe the rhythm section, too, wasn’t as passionate about Mick Karn’s swampy bass lines. Hyde also chose “Forbidden Colours” out of Sylvian’s catalog more so the audience can find it familiar, and what more can you ask for that than a version of the Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence theme with vocals? The mention of Sylvian alone, though, provided a good start to return to the New Wave and pin it as an influence percolating in the rock of L’arc~en~Ciel.
…from Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983). Listen to it on Spotify.
“You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)” by Dead or Alive [Epic, 1984]
“Pete Burns looked so cool, I copied his style,” hyde said about the frontman of Dead or Alive after he shared the band’s “You Spin Me Round (Like a Record).” “I copied the hair, but his voice was what I couldn’t imitate. How he sings, there’s nothing like it. If I can change my voice into anyone’s, I would pick his.”
Long before I tried to pick apart the influences behind the music of L’arc~en~Ciel, I was always curious of how hyde settled on his distinct vocal style that also defines the vocal style typically attached to his era of visual kei. That unique over-enunciating and bellowing of syllables that go well with the melodramatic emoting the music calls for. When a deep dive on Luna Sea’s discography got me going back to the British New Wave, everything clicked when returning to Pete Burns’s voice on “You Spin Me Round (Like a Record).” Add that to his looks that seem so analogous to the flamboyant looks of visual kei, and it’s a no brainer seeing how Dead or Alive feeds into the creative roots of L’Arc’s music.
…from Youthquake (1985). Listen to it on Spotify.
As I mentioned, L’Arc~en~Ciel will return further down the column for our Oricon flashback. But until then, we got our Album of the Week, a much more gentle piece of rock music than hyde and friends. I’m happy to be able to get lengthy on an album again. Let’s hope this continues. If you want more pop, there’s a couple for you in the Singles Club section.
Happy listening!
Album of the Week
New Neighbors by Homecomings [Pony Canyon / IRORI]
*Recommended track: “Us” | Listen to it on Spotify
Life inside a Homecomings song seems to go by steadily from the outside looking in. The band’s twangy indie-rock guitars stroll in the songs like a warm breeze, easing the residing characters to live their days out without a care. Vocalist Ayaka Tatamino hardly raises her voice above a sigh as if not to disturb the peace. They’ve been maintaining this sense of stillness for a whole decade. But for how reliable they’ve become in delivering their signature jangling rock, this very consistency has made it that much easier to overlook the actual compelling drama existing under the unfazed surface.
The band attempt a big swing or two in its sixth album New Neighbors: a dramatic English reading of the chorus arrives during the climactic bridge of “Us” like it aspires to stand the track as an equivalent to a film. But a majority of the record remains humble in size and scale. The richness in production carries over from 2021’s Moving Days in the translucent tones of “Lapse,” the punchy feel of “Ribbons” and the gorgeous string arrangements of “Hikari No Niwa To Sakana No Yume.” Though, the songs stand best alongside compact dwellings in the same humdrum suburbs that accompanied a single like “Blue Hour” from 2018’s Whale Living.
As Homecomings continue to revel in smallness in New Neighbors, the band utilize their bigger production to deepen the intimacy born within the song’s closed spaces. “Lapse” unveils an endearing relationship story of two lonely insomniacs connecting with each other via late-night phone calls. While the lyrics of the band’s Yuki Fukutomi implies the interactions happening in the confines of a small bedroom, the ethereal music blows up the setting into a kind of dream world. “Even in an empty rocket, it’ll evade the rain / and it should get to the secret room,” Tatamino sings, furthering building a cosmic feel within the private space.
New Neighbors are full of these tiny yet precious moments, often shared between two close people. Tatamino sings with as much verve in “Ribbons” as the jubilant guitars, reminding it only takes small steps forward to start anew: “And I can hear the sounds of our new beginning,” she concludes one hopeful chorus. “Herz” gives the spotlight to another couple consoling their hearts under the stars, and though they share an adorable back-and-forth, it’s the subtle tinge of yearning that sticks: “If the morning comes / when those hidden raindrops return to your cheek / hey, remember even if by tomorrow,” Tatamino sighs, hoping what they had in that moment lasts after sunrise.
Fukutomi’s lyrics can get abstract in a roundabout way, only vaguely gesturing to the song’s intended emotion. In the case of “Hikari No Niwa To Sakana No Yume,” the suggestive nature lends the resulting song a feeling of things being best left unsaid. The tender arrangements soften the rather bleak imagery to grace a chorus of a Homecomings track: “if I’m just going to wait for the tears to fall down / if I find the map left behind by someone’s pain in the palm of my hands.” Their still music basks in a solemn quietness in “Hikari No Niwa To Sakana No Yume,” establishing an emotional grey area between relief and resignation.
What comes more lyrically straightforward and purposeful from New Neighbors is the band’s faith on the importance of human connection. “Us” emphasizes their moral support in two different languages. “I Care” practically spells it out from the title on: “I think about you all the time,” Tatamino casually slips out. And it’s these subtle lyrical gestures that resonate most: “It’s OK if you can’t fly yet,” the band concludes in closing track “Elephant” after noting of the world disasters happening in our periphery. As with the best of Homecomings, the most lasting moments in New Neighbors come quiet and unhurried.
Singles Club
“+ n o t i c e +” by Emma Aibara [Funny Conversation]
A tart mix of bubblegum grunge and drum ‘n’ bass serves as diary pages for Emma Aibara to scribble fleeting, private thoughts onto. Like in many of the five tracks in her i don’t know who i am EP, the singer-songwriter’s tosses off incomplete lyrics in “+ n o t i c e +” like vague one-liner tweets sent out of an alt account. But once the blown-out guitar riff comes out blasting out of the break beats, the thrashing tells more than enough of the chaos happening inside of her mind.
i don’t know who i am is out now. Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify.
See also: “I’m Not OK” by Chanmina; “as0bu tame” by shiedA
“Kikoete” by Limre [self-released]
When he’s not arranging UK garage-inspired beats as one half of duo TEMPLIME, producer KBSNK fronts his rock band Limre. While his band preferred sleek, sometimes math-y guitar riffs in their recent full-length, noise bleeds into the music of “Kikoete” as they play their pop punk with such force. The blurring intensity of it all, though, only communicates the urgency behind the song and its overall message: “As long as it’s heard / to just one person,” KBSNK sings in hopes his words get to those who need it most. “Kikoete” is teeming with an abundance of energy in part to spare it those who could use it.
Listen to it on Spotify.
See also: “Nighter” by FINLANDS; “Sekai Ga Owattara” by Shibano Sou
“Idol” by YOASOBI [self-released]
YOASOBI songs have not lost their maximalist touch despite the duo now operating practically at the center of the mainstream: see no further than the buzzing synth riff and the ever-so-tricky top line driving last year’s “The Blessing.” And yet their song for the anime series Oshi No Ko is an unusually bombastic, if not outrageous showcase from a J-pop act frankly not so known for those. The first few seconds alone present Lilas Ikuta trying a rap flow to accompany Ayase’s baroque, trap-inspired beat, and “Idol” never dials down on the excess. If Ayase’s smothering of trap and electro feels too garish for a YOASOBI production, or if Ikuta sounds too cloying through multiple flow switches and idol-song-like winks to the camera, then they succeeded in their assignment: a theme to a series like Oshi No Ko should very much sound like an idol song reflected on a fun-house mirror.
Listen to it on Spotify.
See also: “MAGICAL DESTROYER” by Aimi; “Under Heroine” by TUYU
This Week in 1999…
“HEAVEN’S DRIVE” by L’Arc~en~Ciel [Ki/oon, 1999]
No. 1 during the weeks of May 3-10, 1999 | Listen to it on Spotify/YouTube
L'Arc~en~Ciel’s first number one for 1999, “HEAVEN’S DRIVE” highlights a shift in character for the band, especially for its frontman hyde. No longer did he leave his desires unrequited or without action. “Speed up like it's going to break, and steal me away / let's light the world on fire,” he sings in the chorus, the dialogue suffixed to let him sound as though he’s a commandeering punk rebel. Here, he literally takes the wheel to live life to its most fullest and at his most hedonistic—a far cry in image from the navel-gazing singer so consumed by his unresolved want to show love and affection.
L’Arc’s post-glam rock had been evolving into a towering, flashy sound that matched their ever-growing star power, and by 1999, the band commanded a mass adoration from fans that can only be contained in arenas. Big as they grew, however, the lyrics tended to concern more internal matters. Hyde often sang about the stormy desire brewing inside of him, and his dramatic emphasis of syllables drew out his emotions into exaggerated proportions. Take “winter fall” and its music video from a year prior: while the horns and visual motifs bear resemblance to their slightly later “Driver's High,” what sticks out is not the outlaw cool afforded from the American open-road landscape but the deep yearning bleeding out of hyde.
“HEAVEN’S DRIVE” showcases more assertive lyrics from hyde, which gestures toward signs for fans to interpret as anger against fame, the media or politics: “Played by the snake across the lens / feeling like I’m trapped,” the frontman sings at one point. Yet the song’s self-indulgent chorus asks for little else in context than knowing the pure excitement in watching the world gloriously burn. Hyde embraces this personality of a man on the run, though he’s less interested in getting back at the world or unshackling himself from some bind than simply seeing more of the thrills that the world has to offer.
The rest of the band feeds into hyde’s hunger for thrill. The jittery guitar strums of the verses breaks open into a glorious blast of sound come the chorus, the horn sections adding it extra pomp. Claims to “steal tomorrow and share the laughter” as he sets the world ablaze should be accompanied by an equally pompous theme music, especially when claimed by hyde and his devouring vocals. L’Arc not only brought a monstrous scale to their music in “HEAVEN’S DRIVE,” previously complemented by canyons as backdrops in music videos, but also a sense of uncontrollable motion: with this much fire burning inside of them, they had to act on it somehow.
You can listen to all of the songs covered so far in this section in this playlist here.
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Next issue of This Side of Japan is out May 17. You can check out previous issues of the newsletter here.
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