Some producers have such a cachet, when their names appear on the credits of an album, it’s practically a stamp of approval.
Dave Fridmann earned that name recognition with me for his work with the Flaming Lips and Number Girl. Gustavo Santaolalla did as well with Molotov and Juanes. When I heard both producers would be working on Café Tacuba’s Cuatros Caminos, I couldn’t wait to hear what would happen.
As it turned out, the Fridmann-produced tracks weren’t terribly impressive. The songs were introspective numbers that didn’t really require the kind of up-front sound Fridmann coaxes from his performers. Santaolalla’s tracks, however, seemed as if they were channeling Fridmann — the band sounds confident and audacious on a level previously unheard.
"Hoy Es" almost sounds like something that could have appeared on a Flaming Lips album. The way the song develops gradually, getting progressively psychedelic, has the same kind of orchestral grandeur, say, anything off the The Soft Bulletin. "Hoy Es", however, was not produced by Fridmann — it was helmed by Santaolalla.
Santaolalla brings out some punchy performances from the musicians who work with him, and this track certainly shows Café Tacuba at a zenith.
I’ve written about Café Tacuba numerous times before, but I don’t feel I’ve written enough.
However much I love Shiina Ringo, Björk or the Flaming Lips, nothing in the US, Europe or Japan compares to the manic eclecticism of Café Tacuba. The quartet catapults the music of its region so far into the future, it would probably still sound ahead of its time many years from now.
Beck saw fit to have the band open for him back in the mid ’90s. The most challenging piece on Kronos Quartet’s Nuevo was composed by the band. And as daring as the members of Café Tacuba are as rock musicians, they work from a firm foundation of traditional Mexican music.
"El fin de la infancia" comes from the band’s sprawling second album, Re. In the first half hour alone, Café Tacuba jumps from genre to genre, employing death metal guitars on one track, disco beats on another.
This track demonstrates the band’s willingness to go for the crazy. That drunken intro is something mighty dissonant.
To make up for all the time I haven’t written about Café Tacuba, the next few days will concentrate on the band’s music.
When I was diving into non-mainstream Japanese rock back in 2000, I was surprised by the number of exceptional bands and solo artists were signed to major labels. If it weren’t for Utada Hikaru, Toshiba-EMI almost looked like an indie farm label with some of the artists at one time signed to its roster — Number Girl, Bleach, bloodthirsty butchers, Missile Girl Scoot, Shiina Ringo, PE’Z.
But as time went on, I learned the label system in Japan is as volatile as in the US. Of the musicians on that previous list, only Shiina Ringo remains at Toshiba-EMI.
Bugy Craxone started its career on Victor Entertainment. The band released four albums, then went the indie route with a label of their own. It’s a career move no different from bands around the world who do time with the majors and don’t find a suitable fit.
Bugy Craxone didn’t garner much name recognition, and while signed to Victor, they didn’t move many units. The only release to crack the Oricon chart was an EP, This is New Sunrise, and it peaked at 93.
I like Bugy Craxone, and I like how they take risks with their sound. The band started out as straight-forward alternative rock band, but by the time the trio recorded Northern Hymns, they were full-on garage band.
"Fuck the Melancholy" is the opening track of Northern Hymns, and the aggressive title captures the essence of the song perfectly.
I need to come out of the closet about this one: I do not like Shonen Knife. I do not understand their appeal, and I do not like their music. I credit their success to dumb luck and timing.
But Shonen Knife opened the back door to American success. While Sony was too busy using trying to strong arm Matsuda Seiko through the mainstream radio gate, Shonen Knife dug a tunnel to the underground and caught the attention of one Kurt Cobain. I appreciate Shonen Knife for at least presenting an alternate perception of Japanese music — one that didn’t involve "Sukiyaki" or Pink Lady & Jeff.
I just don’t have to listen to them.
For a little while, Shonen Knife begat an A&R goldrush for the next quirky Japanese band to sign with an American label. Matador staked out Pizzicato Five, while the Beastie Boys’ Grande Royal snatched up Buffalo Daughter. The cynic in me dismissed Buffalo Daughter as just another weird pop confection riding the Shonen Knife coattails.
Over time, Buffalo Daughter has revealed itself as a band with no regard for an aesthetic map. The trio really loves to make it up as they go along.
So while 2001’s I is a straight-forward indie rock album, 2002’s Pshychic is a prolonged jam session. 2005’s Euphorica, meanwhile, is an unsettling marriage between the Sugarcubes and Polysics.
New Rock, released in 1998, was at one point available in the US. It went out of print with Grande Royal’s demise at the turn of the century.
"Socks, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll" symbolizes that gold rush of yore. It is, indeed, a quirky tune with a lot of humor. And it’s cute. Not Shonen Knife cute, but certainly cute on its own terms.
When I first moved to Austin, I tried to be cool and listen to all the popular stuff attracting local audiences at the time. I bought up Asylum Street Spankers, 8 1/2 Souvenirs, the Damnations TX, Fastball, the Golden Arm Trio — in short, I was trying to figure out what I really liked.
The Austin bands I listen to now pretty much fall in the indie rock sector: … And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, Explosions in the Sky, Black Lipstick.
During that "discovery" phase, I bought albums by Kelly Willis and Bruce Robison, the famed husband-and-wife team with distinct solo careers. Willis’ What I Deserve was flying off the shelves, and curiosity won out. Verdict: Wow, was that boring.
That was not the case with Robison’s Wrapped. I spun that album multiple times, and while I haven’t managed to warm up to any of his other work, I do keep that album.
The title track is a stunner. Although Robison performs it as a straight country tune, a slight tweak could turn it into a mainstream adult contemporary pop song. Heck, it could even go adult alternative pop.
His collaborations with brother Charlie and Monte Warden are other highlights of the album, and the smooth production by Lloyd Maines (father of Dixie Chick Natalie) certainly helps.
Wrapped is a terrific album by a songwriter who’s penned hits for the Dixie Chicks and that other husband-wife team, Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. I haven’t heard the McGraw/Hill version of "Angry All the Time", but Robison’s duet with Willis on Wrapped has a rough quality I suspect is far more satisfying.
Chuck D’s appearance on Sonic Youth’s Goo sounds really after-the-fact. Rock writers seem to want to blow that collaboration out of proportion, but when you actually hear him on "Kool Thing", he sounds … lost.
Contrast that with his work on Boom Boom Satellites’ "Your Reality’s a Fantasy but Your Fantasy Is Killing Me". Here, he doesn’t play second fiddle. At the same time, he’s not in Public Enemy’s world — he’s in Boom Boom Satellites’ world.
And the duo does a damn good job providing a canvas on which Chuck can paint his yarn.
Incessant beats, driving bass, stuttering effects — when Chuck came up with the title of the song, he understood full well the musical environs in which he inhabited.
It makes me wonder whether Chuck D fans (do people still listen to Public Enemy?) would have appreciated this pairing. Seems like this kind of collaboration could have played well Stateside. Then again, I’m not a very good judge of that kind of thing.
I’m just of the opinion that Chuck D’s collaboration with Boom Boom Satellites is far more fun to listen to than his work with Sonic Youth.
Back in January, I was presented a gift certificate for turning around an impossible deadline. Back in December, I failed to make use of my eMusic quota. Back in November, I recorded an album for NaSoAlMo that got me listening to a lot of minimalism.
All these events culminated into a 54-hour playlist currently loaded into my Winamp player.
A few other events got me on an acquisition frenzy. The Advocate did not reprise its Top Indie Music Artists of the Year list for 2006, so I have to do my own research. (Ugh. Work.) And Jpopsuki has had some really great stuff loaded up in the last few weeks. Huge offerings of Hamada Mari, TOE and Onitsuka Chihiro? Coolness!
So I haven’t really been starving much where the listening is concerned.
I was skeptical of Even So when it was released in 2004.
The time Bonnie Pink took to make Present felt appropriate, and the quality of the work showed. With Even So following 13 months later, I wondered if the same scattershot approach to Just a Girl would mire Even So.
But Bonnie was smart. Even So felt different without having to stray far from the introspective bread and butter of her songwriting. She trades in the usual intimate song here and there, but at other times, she’s actually rocking out.
The crunchy guitars on "Private Laughter" are nothing next to the wailing guitars on Cocco or Shiina Ringo albums. But for Bonnie Pink, they’re a display of muscle.
Like Present, Even So managed to stay focused. "1-2-3" might have been the only the clunker on the album, but the rest of it felt cohesive.
"Losing Myself" is not my favorite song off of Bonnie Pink’s album, Present. That distinction would go to "April Shower ~Yo-gatsu no Arashi~".
But I’ve pimped "April Shower" to a lot of people over the years, and I feel doing so again is just, well, lazy. So I’m picking another track to feature.
Thing is, just about any track from this album would be suitable for the spotlight. Present is one of the strongest albums from Bonnie Pink’s major label career. (I won’t go so far to say her entire career, since I’m not at all acquainted with her Pony Canyon phase.)
Present was the follow-up to the scattershot Just a Girl. Bonnie is a prolific recording artist, and sometimes, the fast turnaround of her albums leaves me concerned.
But after the release of Just a Girl in 2001, Bonnie took a different creative route the following year, collaborating with R&B artists such as Verbal from m-flo. When she returned in 2003 with Present, her folk-rock songs made a little more room for some dance floor influence.
"Losing Myself" establishes the aesthetic for the album, a nice balance of singer-songwriter introspection and pop appeal.
SXSW has published a preliminary list of bands showcasing at this year’s music festival. I hit CTRL+F and searched for "Japan" to find the following results: