| Naoko Nozawa - Hanaji |
| It's
hardly a secret that navigating the ins and outs of Japanese media can
be a surreal experience for non-natives. It can be simultaneously
fascinating and repulsive (the films of Shinya Tsukimoto and Takashi
Miike,) deeply mysterious (most of the PSF catalog,) exhilarating
(musicians from the Acid Mothers Temple collective to Midori,) or
irritating beyond words (I'm firmly convinced that anyone who actually
enjoys 95% of Japanese television has something seriously wrong with
them.) From the gaijin viewpoint, the combination of skewed perspective
and general ignorance of the finer points of the culture can lead to
some fascinating, confounding, and brain squeezing experiences. You can
live here and get used to it…mostly. But at some point, something's
gonna jump out from somewhere and confuse the ever living shit out of
you. Which brings us to Naoko Nozawa, and her debut album はなぢ (Nosebleed.) It's obvious that there's something a bit off from just looking at the cover, and it helps (a little) to know that Nozawa eventually went on to a highly successful comedy career (mostly on…uh-oh…television.) She also directed a short film which featured Demi Semi Quaver's Emi Elenola. Oh yes, and she later formed a band called Ass-Baboons of Venus. Obviously, this woman must marry me. Anyway, knowing all this still doesn't really explain just what the hell Nosebleed actually is. A comedy album? Well, my Japanese is less than spectacular, but musically speaking, it's (usually) not particularly odd. A semi-parody of 80s idol pop? That's probably closer to the truth, but there's still something wobbly and unexplainable to the proceedings. Opening track "おーわだばく" ("Ouwadabaku" …I have no idea what that means) seems to be set up as an endurance test: Nozawa's vocals push the limits of the adjective "squealing," hitting notes that will certainly attract the attention of neighborhood dogs, with lyrics that are mostly the title repeated ad nauseum with the occasional interjection of "SUKISUKISUKISUKI," and so many false endings that…well, let's just say if you really hated your roommate, playing "Ouwadabaku" on repeat at full volume could be quite therapeutic. And then there's "スプラッター" ("Splatter,") which is straight up super duper bouncy 80's radio pop, or it would be without that title and the crudely drawn meat cleaver in the lyric sheet. And for God Sakes, there's a synth punk version of "Yankee Doodle Dandy" (complete with, er, alpine horn. Not for nothing does the Japanese title translate to "Girl Heidi In The Alps.") From a purely musical standpoint, Nosebleed is like a mid period Jun Togawa album, minus Togawa's operatic trills and occasional melancholic digressions; slick studio pop that rises above its commercial aspirations with detail, weirdness, and delirious cheese. It's just too bouncy to truly hate, even though there's no shortage of moments where it seems to delight in poking you with a sharp stick (check out her too-damned-happy-to-be-trusted vocals in the synth jazz of ridiculousness of "えっち," i.e. "H.") Yes, much is undoubtedly lost in the translation for the non-Japanese speaker, but that just heightens the weirdness. It's not nearly as obvious as one might expect from a future member of Ass-Baboons From Venus, but there's a lot more happening than first meets the ear, and half the fun is wondering just what in the hell she was thinking. The deeper you go, the stranger the ride. |