| Ranmadou - Summer 1971 |
| The
blues is simple in concept, but the execution is a tricky beast. Like
Rock 'n' Roll in general, it started out dirty, mean, and lowbrow, only
to become more respectable, mainstream, and even
occasionally...polished (ouch.) Not to mention the "credibility" issues
that still occasionally pop up when someone other than American blacks
gives it a shot. On top of all that, a lot of the blues rock from the
late 60s and early 70s sounds rather tame today. At the time, it might
have come off as rough 'n' tumble, but now...it sounds a little too
respectful of its inspirations, either coming off as too slick, or too
unwilling to change the recipe. Absolutely none of this applies to Ranmadou's "1971 Summer." It is not hyperbole to state that this live recording (made, as the title says, in 1971, although not actually issued until 1989) is every bit the equal of ANY blues rock album from the period. Yes, that includes the entire British blues explosion (Ten Years After, John Mayall, etc,) and even (gulp) early ZZ Top. This recording embodies everything the blues started off as: dirty, mean, unkempt, loud, brash, testosterone crazed, desperate...and absolutely, unimaginably powerful. "馬鹿な男" ("Hoochie Coochie Man." Yes, that's what it looks like in Japanese) kicks off the album by throwing down the gauntlet so damned hard it bounces, the impossibly filthy and flashy guitar of Eiryu Kou making all protests stop cold in their tracks. When Kou's fingers finally pause long enough for vocalist Hisao Matsuyoshi to sneer his way into the opening lines, it's breathtaking. Even though every word is in Japanese (save the title,) this is infinitely more authentic, brutal, and bluesy than anything those skinny white boys were conjuring up on the other side of the pond. Kou hardly takes a break, flinging positively furious licks all over the arrogantly slow pace, like a huge, pissed off black bear casually wandering over to break you in half. "百面相" ("Making Faces") is somewhat less traditional and gives Black Sabbath (and Tony Iommi in particular) a run for their money, harnessing the dark thump with a little less evil and a little more swagger. "一握りのブルース" ("A Handful Of Blues") is more reflective, working off the slow burning soul template of prime Otis Redding only to jangle and chime unexpectedly. "何のために" ("Wherefore") throws a bit of doom in the mix, slowing things down only to cast a shadow, ending in a sinister collapse of guitar and sweat. After this was recorded, the band would make their debut album (called simply "Ranmadou,") and it would show none of the fire, rage, and swagger of this disc (in fact, it's guilty of many of the issues outlined in the beginning of this review.) Afterwards, they would split and vanish into the ether, while Kou's pre-Ranmadou band Blues Creation would go on to fame and fortune. One can only guess what this band would have become had they either stuck it out, or kept the brutal edge on display here for their studio debut. |