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Tomoe Shinohara - Super Model
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If you can make it past the first 60 seconds, you're golden. Making it past that 60 seconds, though...
There's a rather goofy stereotype concerning Japanese pop culture,
specifically that it's over energetic to the point of psychosis, and
weird enough to make Björk look like Jonny Cash. Like pretty much every
stereotype in history, that's a gross oversimplification. Usually. Then
there's Tomoe Shinohara. The story is, she was discovered/witnessed in
the audience of a live show at the tender age of 15, freaking out and
being so generally manic (and magnetic) that somebody decided to sign
her. To do what is not exactly clear, but she ended up making music,
and "Super Model" is her debut.
So, back to that first 60 seconds. It starts with a moan, like cuthulu
waking from a centuries long slumber. It's quickly sped up to the point
of white noise, then explodes into a backwards orchestra, with
Shinohara gleefully welcoming us to her album like a carnival barker
hopped up on goofballs. A dance beat kicks in, she shouts
"Yaaaaaaaayyy!," some guy shouts "Go!" on digital repeat, then
Shinohara starts spouting as many syllables as humanly possible as
quickly as she can (which is, rest assured, very quickly) in a squeaky
little girl voice. All of this is done with a severely
exaggerated,
holy-crap-somebody-hold-her-down-and-make-sure-she-doesn't-swallow-her-tongue
intensity. There you go, welcome to "クルクル ミラクル" ("Round And Round
Miracle," video with the intro edited out is is to the left,) and
Tomo-chan's debut.
If you watched that video, you probably have a valid question: why are
we talking about this? This is music made for young girls, by young
girls, and it's frankly a little creepy to be hearing about this from a
middle aged guy that spends his time reviewing Les Rallizes Dénudés
bootlegs. Well, bear with me, because the absurd levels of derangement
on "Super Model" rival those of the most out there avant garde: early
Boredoms, John Zorn's Naked City, High Rise. Shinohara's just not dark.
It should be pointed out that the musical engine behind this particular
technicolor riot consists of such artists as CMJK, H.O.I. Voodoo, and
Takkyu Ishino of Denki Groove, among others. OK, now there's a
pedigree, and an explanation as to how an album made by a ridiculously
hyperactive 15 year old manages to have the seemingly impossible range
and sonic depth it does. Once the sugar high wears off, "レインボー・ララ・ルー"
("LaLaLu Rainbow") is simultaneously astounding and hilarious. The
sheer balls of stitching a song together from trip hop, surf guitar,
techno, Surfin' Bird, a lunatic teenager, Ennio Morriconne, dub reggae,
and the intro riff from "Rock 'n' Roll Radio" is impressive, all the
more so for presenting it all so quickly and seamlessly. It starts off
seemingly innocent and (relatively) relaxed, lulling the listener into
a false sense of security for the first 90 seconds. Then there's the
expected explosion for the next 90, then it ups the intensity AGAIN
with a full out assault of Dick Dale style guitars, blast beats, and
God knows what else. There isn't a nook or cranny that isn't stuffed to
the gills with overkill, and frankly, it takes the irrational energy of
someone like Shinohara to keep everything on track.
Fortunately, the album is also wisely paced: the majority berserk
tracks are balanced out with surprisingly beautiful digressions.
"チャタレイ夫人にあこがれて" ("Lady Chatterly's Longing") actually fits that title,
a lazy, psychedelic oasis of cooed vocals and blissed out electronics.
It's atypical, not for the actual ideas, but because it picks one idea
and stays with it for a whole song. Not to mention it's the only track
that doesn't sound like the Tasmanian Devil trapped in a Tilt-A-Whirl.
After "Super Model," Shinohara would necessarily calm down a bit,
although the new wave screwiness of albums like "Dream & Machine"
could still give vintage Devo a run for it's money. She grabbed the
reins of her career early on, and her wild spasms of energy would
eventually manifest themselves as a clothing line and two record labels
(Vita Celeste and Jagged Apple.) She also pops up every once in a while
doing something like this.
She's currently approaching her 30th birthday as a member of Tokyo
Flash, a DJ/vocalist combo that still has whispers of the overexcited
kid of her debut. That said, she likely won't do this again: "Super
Model" is a one shot deal, a prototype too weird for duplication.
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