| Les Rallizes Dénudés - Mizutani |
| Since
their (underground, but still relatively big) recent discovery by
western music geeks, Les Rallizes Dénudés, and its leader, Takeshi
Mizutani, have been hailed as masters of hugeness, noise royalty who
take simple, oddly unabrasive walls of splintered, tortured noise and
wrestle them into commanding epics of melancholy beauty. There are an
absurd number of bootlegs floating around (and they’re all bootlegs,
technically, although some are less bootleggy than others,) and the
vast majority of these official-or-not recordings are live, loud,
and…did we mention loud? . Noise noise noise is for heroes, and LRD
have been rightly hailed as masters. Another thing about LRD is their Velvet Underground influence. The Velvets were contemporaries when the ball got rolling on this intrepid bunch of sonic explorers, and it’s a safe bet that the sonic chaos of “Sister Ray” got its share of spins in the Mizutani household. The VU comparison, however, should not be overstated…LRD were hardly wannabes. But there was a lot more to The Velvets than squall, and the same is true with Mizutani and company. If “Live ’77,” the Rallizes release that gets the most hosannas, is their “White Light/White Heat,” then “Mizutani,” the album, is their third: a gentle, melancholy, contemplative work that (musically, at least) is more concerned with quiet than sonic assault. Yes, that’s right, a Les Rallizes Dénudés album without feedback (well, mostly.) SO here’s the question: should we care? Can Mizutani’s compositions hold interest without being cloaked in chaos? Is there more to the LRD universe than hot torrents of noise? Well, yes. “Mizutani” is actually quite lovely, a relaxed yin to “Live ‘77’s” fiery yang. “記憶は遠い” (“A Distant Memory”) sets the tone: gently plucked guitars, often acoustic, a small xylophone (!) and yearning vocals, all with a light dusting of reverb. The whole first half of the album doesn't deviate from this template at all, and it doesn’t need to. Then comes another version of “The Last One,” which is a bit more plugged in, but starts off equally calm. The similarities to VU’s “Heroin” can’t really be ignored, not just in the tones of it’s opening, but in the way it slowly builds into chaos. Thing is, even when the inevitable pandemonium breaks out, it’s not the icy needles of more typical LRD fare, but a blunted, warmer turbulence, less otherworldly than the usual alien landscapes conjured by the crew. At 22 minutes and change, it’s clearly the centerpiece, but it doesn’t eliminate the mood established by the previous five lullabies. It’s the dark dream in the center of a peaceful sleep: loud, but the eyes stay closed. The album closes with the appropriately titled “黒い悲しみのロマンセ” (“Black Romance Of Sorrow,”) a mournful track that splits the difference between the soft and hard with a lackadaisical shuffle that almost borders on Neil Young and Crazy Horse territory. Although “Mizutani” is somewhat overlooked by LRD disciples, it’s a vital piece of the puzzle, revealing the musical backbone that allows such spectacular flights of chaos in their other works. It also solidifies the case for Mizutani as a songwriter, and not simply a sound merchant: the songs stand on their own quite easily, thanks. There have been a few sightings of reissues popping up in the better Tokyo record stores (with modified artwork, although the photo used in the original artwork above is integrated into the cover.) Here’s hoping this soft white underbelly gets some more exposure. |