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| LSD March - Under Milk Wood |
| LSD
March's Shinsuke Michishita is a tough guy to pin down: ecumenical in
his tastes, but hyperfocused on his own personal expression, passionate
in his musical approach as he remains contemplative in its actual
performance. While not as jagged as Keiji Haino, as explosively spastic
as Kawabata Makoto, or as supremely ethereal as Ghost's Masaki Batoh,
he nonetheless embodies these elements and more, blending them into an
increasingly individual sound that has paradoxically grown more focused
as it expands. Keeping with this conceptual tension, "Under Milk Wood," recorded in January of 2008 released a full year later, is possibly his most accessible work. However, there's plenty to challenge the listener as the seven main tracks take on easily recognizable forms, then proceed to subtly corrupt them in surprising ways. The atmosphere is thick, but it's the manipulation of expectations that keep things compelling. Opening track "Bisyonure No Kimi" ("You're Soaked To The Skin") flirts with Ghost-esque psych, but is a little to depressive to become truly ethereal. "Dare Ga Hoera" (Who's Barking?") is a heavy, fuzzy piece of somewhat typical garage psych, but even then, it's a bit too lethargic, and the vocals a bit too emphatic. What's he going on about? It's like if The Bevis Frond ditched his pop sensibilities completely and went full on evil. "Kimi No Uta O Kitta Boku Wa Akuma Ni Natta" ("I Was The Devil And I Heard Your Song") is a quiet but sinister narrative, as Michishita's vocals dispassionately hover around loose, dark guitar chimes that finally open up into an expansive but creepy finish. Much of the album is loose, but "Taiyo No Uta" is almost completely incomprehensible, as seemingly random guitar and drums somehow manage to run in tight circles, always threatening to play a tune but never quite getting around to it. This fractured manipulation reaches its peak intensity in "Ai No Sakebi" ("Shout Of Love.") A slow, ornate, funereal dirge, it wobbles and stumbles as lazily strummed guitar trudges through increasingly random percussion. It's always one half step away from complete disintegration, slowly becoming unglued, but refusing to either collapse or truly cohere. A sharp, piercing guitar solo cuts through the murk, not unlike Michio Kurihara's flights of bright, acid fried focus, but the impression is overwhelmingly one of distressed sloppiness, like Tom Waits at his most shambolic. Bizarrely (and perfectly,) a single, split second of electronic vocals come out of absolute nowhere, staying around just long enough to lead in the second guitar solo. It's a brilliant, and brilliantly small, touch: shocking, disorienting, and thoroughly evocative of total breakdown. The first impression of "Under Milk Wood" is one of simplicity, but even this doesn't stick. Throughout the proceedings, there's a thick blanket of sound underneath the front and center stuff, sometimes taking over, sometimes blending into the background, but always there. The cover art was a shrewd choice, showing Michishita walking through a snowy forest: it's peaceful and monochromatic, but with a million nooks and crannies to get lost in. The album proper is seven songs, but there are two untitled "bonus" tracks at the end, and they're a bit disruptive. The first is a Spinal Tap-esque, eight minute blooper reel of (presumably) engineer Richard Horner demanding endless takes of something called "My Mother Has Killed Me." The poor musicians never get more than 10 seconds or so in before they're interrupted with a never ending barrage of less than helpful suggestions. The second is 20 seconds of sub-metal goofing. They fit in with the album's musical theme of disintegration, I guess, but only on an intellectual level: you're safe skipping them. "Under Milk Wood" is a great album to ease into, an extraordinarily creative and challenging, but ultimately accessible piece of Japanese underground psych that never allows its intensity to become distancing. It'll be interesting to see where Michishita takes his March to next: will he follow his increasingly loose aesthetic, or will he become more defined and cool, like the techno music he professes to enjoy so much? Or will he merge the two in an unlikely union, like the restrained chaos of "Under Milk Wood?" Time will tell. |