Available at Amazon Japan
| Murahachibu - Live |
| Some
bands are just doomed from the start, but Murahachibu didn't just crash
and burn, they seemed to welcome it. First off, the word "murahachibu"
is not a word that is uttered in polite society. Translating into
"village eighty percent," referring to the percentage necessary for
someone to shunned from a village society, it has an offensive power
similar to "nigger" in the US: simply using the word is an indication
of low class. But the chose of moniker was only the beginning, for
Murahachibu were full blown, proud hedonists, a sick shock of
debauchery at a time when that simply wasn't done. AT ALL. Probably because of this, the band never really got the hang of recording: their available material consists entirely of live shows and demos, which has only added to their mystique. They're revered as gods, inarguable deities of Japanese rock...within the Japanese rock scene, that is. Move outside Japan, however, and the mood changes: Julian Cope's Japrocksampler openly states that their music was "monotonous crap," and his sentiment has been echoed in English sites across the internet. This, I suggest, is a combination of unrealistic expectations and contrarianism. After hearing about the band's reputation, their unpretentious dirt rock may seem a letdown. While the music has clear antecedents, there was no blueprint for who Murahachibu were in Japanese society, something which is obviously overlooked (or under-emphasized) in Western assessments of their music, but which is central to understanding music in general, not just rock 'n' roll. Who they were: Ex-Dynamites guitarist Fujio Yamaguchi, shedding his Group Sounds image, and vocalist Chabo, a charismatic mess who radiated "rock star" without trying. While post Group Sounds Japanese rock was expanding into enraged protest (Zuno Keisatsu,) hyperfocused musical extremity (Les Rallizes Dénudés, The Flower Travellin' Band) and pop folk (Happy End, the entire URC catalog,) Murahachibu were just out for a good time, displaying none of the musical earnestness that marked the vast majority of their peers (with the obvious exception of Speed Glue and Shinki, whose drug addled trudge has earned a deserved, but disproportionately superior, reputation in the west.) Murahachibu burned out and faded away, and in doing so created a musical icon that resonates so deeply in the Japanese underground, even today, that this band photo has become a sort of badge of honor: if you see it on the wall of a bar or record shop, you know you're in a "good" place. Ultimately, I fail to see how any fan of sloppy rock 'n' roll can champion, say, "Exile On Main Street," yet disparage Murahachibu's 1973 live recording: yes, they're falling over themselves. Yes, the vocals are barked more than sung. Yes, the guitar riffs are essentially revved up Chuck Berry workouts. Since when did these become criticisms? Like "Exile," "Live" isn't about the tunes, but about momentum, the intangible feeling a band achieves when they lock in, even when...especially when...they whip up a groove that seems like it's going to collapse at any second. Chabo doesn't sing so much as rant, spitting out free form declarations that often seem utterly disconnected to the music rumbling beneath him. His delivery in "んッ!!" initially does what's expected, more or less, following the tune in a vaguely coherent manner, but gradually devolves into detached rambling, like the crazy guy on the corner hitting his stride. "んッ!!" isn't a word, but translates into a James Brown like declaration along the lines of "Unh!!," which fits the tune's shambling, Ike Turner-esque kick perfectly. Which brings up an interesting point: while Murahachibu has a definite Stones bent, there's plenty more to their sound. Take "ぐにゃぐにゃ" (slang that translates into "floppy" or "limp.") Yamaguchi takes his Chuck Berry fixation and squeezes it into careening, driving riffs while rhythm guitarist Yochan hits sharp, funky chords that invoke a space somewhere between "Hot Pants" and early Gang Of Four. "鼻からちょうちん" ("A Lantern From The Nose"...huh?) is as oddly striking as its title: a swaggering 60s beat offers a brief flash of Byrds-like jangle from Yamaguchi before ripping into a typically rock 'n' roll solo. Through it all, Murahachibu radiate a weird sort of lazy power, a virile but disintegrating attack with an appeal that has more to do with feel, mood, and sloppy momentum than with satisfying an arbitrary checklist of what is or isn't "rebellious." "Live" is about volume and getting the job done, and if you stumble, puke, pass out or get lost doing it, all the better. The bad press they've gotten recently is perhaps somewhat understandable in the sense that there's nothing explicitly bizarre about their music (let's face it, much of the appeal of unearthing music from other cultures is novelty.) Murahachibu are extraordinarily important to Japanese rock history, but the best way to listen to them is the way everybody did when they were together: turn up the volume, turn off your frontal lobes, and get lost in the delirious current. |