 |
| Heaven's Persona |
Of
all the Tokyo underground psych bands of the 90s, Shizuka is
simultaneously one of the most connected and, paradoxically,
overlooked. Shizuka herself is a Tokyo based doll maker (this will
become important later,) and here she's backed by Fushitsusha's Jun
Kosugi, Miura Maki of Fushitsusha and Les Rallizes Dénudés,
and
a mysterious bloke who goes by the name of Seven (who may or may not be
the former Dr. Acid Seven of the late 60s/early 70s Tokyo
underground...research has been inconclusive on that front, although
the company Shizuka keeps makes it a definite possibility.)
Looking at that personnel, and the fact that she's on legendary label
PSF, her music doesn't come as a surprise in and of itself: deep, dark,
Velvets-inspired psychedelia with liberal helpings of echo and
feedback. What makes Shizuka stand out from this distinguished company,
however, is her allegiance to traditional song forms. While similar
acts have certainly had their share of verse-chorus-verse, they've
typically shrouded them in feedback (Les Rallizes
Dénudés,) or upstaged them with jagged, raw
emotion
(Fushitsusha.) Not so Shizuka, who uses her scene's trademark sonics to
give her gentle, simple songs a narcotic haze that invokes
ghosts and much as angels.
Her career consists thus far of one studio album and three live albums,
all recorded in '94-'95. The studio effort, "Heaven's Persona"
(her debut,) covers many of the different approaches that were
present in the Tokyo Underground at the time. Opener "十" ("10") is a
quick blizzard of Fushitsusha-esque guitar. "少女の唇に蝶よとまれ" ("A Butterfly
Stops On The Lips Of A Girl") possesses the same chilling calm of
"Mizutani" era Les Rallizes Dénudés, with its
Velvet Underground narcotic drift and soft cocoon of echo. It builds to
a huge, chaotic conclusion, finding common ground between LRD's "'77
Live" and Neil Young and Crazy Horse's more fried moments.
 |
| Traditional Aesthetics |
If Jun
Togawa and Tim Burton formed a band, it would probably sound
like "パンドラの匣" ("Pandora's Box,") a creepy, sinister lullaby
that evokes every gothic childhood fear of what may lurk in the closet,
or under the bed. The track gets even creepier when you
look
at the assorted
pictures of
Shizuka's
dolls, which grace the inner
sleeve. It's the sort of album that screams "cult following," one which
creates a self contained world that would clearly appeal to Takashi
Mizutani and Keiji Haino obsessives.
As if continuing the footsteps if Les Rallizes Dénudés,
the majority of Shizuka's catalog is live, and is all collected from
one period, the mid 90s. PSF Records recently issued "Traditional
Aesthetics," a recording made in Osaka's legendary Namba Bears in 1995.
The live setting naturally brings out the more prickly end of the
band's sound: the 26 minute version of "Heaven's Persona's" title track
is the stuff of which cult followings are made. The bright, scalding
guitar feedback is straight out of "'77 Live," but builds to a
muscular, driving rock peak that Mizutani and company would have kept
surrounded with fog. Halfway through, it segues into "世に残す歌" ("Keep
Singing To The World,") peeling back the sheets of noise and making
room for a severe, psychedelic guitar solo. Shizuka (the person) sounds
like a vengeful spirit, somberly intoning her victim's fate with the
weight of a judgment from the beyond.
It's a mood that she's sustained throughout her brief oeuvre. There's
an aching beauty to her work, a feeling of resignation to some great
loss, punctuated by sharp needles of guitar stuck in thick waves of
reverb. It's the sort of harsh sound that goes so far into white noise
it becomes soothing, a mood accentuated by her patient, mournful songs.
Why she's not talked discussed more often is a mystery: the normal
excuses (too obscure, not enough releases) should heighten, not
diminish, her esteem among Japanese feedback hounds. Hopefully,
"Traditional Aesthetic's" release will make the appropriate waves,
revealing yet another darkly intriguing mystery for people to obsess
over.
---
Available At PSF
Records
