 Ever since Lenny Kaye foisted the "Nuggets"
compilation on an unsuspecting world in the early 70s, rock music has
had a strong sense of history. From that seminal moment (and the
countless "lost classics" that have come in its wake,) an element of
revivalism grew, and has since become a necessary part of the rite of
passage for any serious music fan. New bands, of course, sprung up
around this phenomenon, leading to a whole new sub-genre of modern
psych / garage bands that keep one foot in the past as they put their
inherently modern stamp on the form.
Japan, of course, has a similar phenomenon: revivalism is everywhere,
as garage bands mine their home country's past, a past that took form
in a myriad of styles. There's GS (aka Group Sounds,) Japan's answer to
the British Invasion (like a Japanese take on The Dave Clark Five, or
The Searchers.) Then there's the poppier Kayo-kyoku (roughly comparable
to Petula Clark, et al) and the often melodramatic Enka (think Gene
Pitney's "Town Without Pity," or Lee Hazelwood's more psychedelic
moments.) The difference is, Japanese revivalist bands tend to pick
their genre and stick with it, opting for emulation over rebirth.
Then there's the Peacock Babies. Led by former Pain vocalist (and, more
importantly, music journalist) Gaku Torii, simple duplication is the
last thing on their minds. The Peacock Babies are a band that could
only come from Japan, a frenzied collision of GS, Enka, and Kayo-kyoku,
filtered through a snide punk energy to create an ecstatic, garagey,
melancholy, and ultimately undefinable sound that should be a chaotic mess. It's ultimate success is just short of a miracle.
It can take a while just to wrap your head around everything happening
here: vocalist Manako Kareha (of psychotic lounge act Tokyo Yasagure
Onna) radiates an aura of damaged goods, a tragic figure that looks to
be as capable of inflicting as much pain as she's forced to endure. Her
voice is at home couched in TYO's sinister cocktail jazz, but here,
she's surrounded by a dramatic, acid fried garage punk that brings
out the fight in her: Peacock Babies aren't a band so much as a
challenge, a blend of styles and approaches that draws blood.
"アンチェイン・マイ・ハート" ("Unchain My Heart") isn't a plea, but a warning: part
menace, part seduction. "恋の十字路" ("The Crossroads Of Love") is a
desperate 60s soul slow burn, "0のバラード 女の爪あと" ("The Ballad Of Rei") is
pure Enka, all tears, fatalism, and darkly bitter heartbreak.
Despite the obvious debt to the 60s, the Peacock Babies still feel like
a modern garage band, albeit one with a sense of drama and theater that
is very un-garagey. This is all the more remarkable when you consider
that "Psychedelic Town" is all covers, from Enka / Kayo-kyoku / GS
stars like The Dynamites, Linda Yamamoto, Maki Asakawa, Miki Sugimoto,
and others. For those interested in the history of Japanese rock,
"Psychedelic Town" acts as a thorough, if unconventional, primer, an
unfamiliar past delivered with a wounded snarl. You could certainly do
worse in terms of entry points. That said, one doesn't need a sense of
the specifics of the history involved to get drawn into the Peacock
Babies' weirdly modern stroll down (someone else's) memory lane.
Word has it that the next Peacock Babies disc will consist of
originals, and it remains to be seen if the thick, mournful, and
sinister atmosphere of "Psychedelic Town" can be supported by the
band's own compositions. Time will tell, but until then, this town is
worth a visit.
---
Available at Amazon Japan
|
