Adam Niederpruem

Cro-Magnon: III

(Lastrum; 2008)

Most touring bands and DJ’s tend to release studio albums that leave fans with a diet version of their sound. Listening to the half baked opener “kemu-ni-maku”, it feels if Cro-Magnon hold the sound to make their music explode- but never let it. The album is neither a live mix, nor an attempted re creation of a show, which leaves it feeling like an inconsistent variety of what the trio can offer.

Cro-Magnon label themselves: jamband/new wave/disco house, and at least two of these genres are best on the dance floor. There’s a light thump to Cro-Magnon’s sound, and their delicate beats stretch over Latin breezes, organ jams, corny vocal tracks and touches of funk. The voiceless variety glides along, full of air, autopilot drums and hints of danceability.

Cro-Magnon’s three members play drums, keyboard and guitar & bass. This is proven on the album sleeve, not on the album. The dull jams of “inside-out” and “Diablo anastasis” are proof that instruments are involved, but without much desire to change time signatures or chords. When III switches to the electronic realm with “prosperity” and “morning haze”, it’s simply mild. There are no pulsing beats, no blasts that demand attention. On “morning haze” a slow smear of drums and synths are finally killed off in a blissful guitar line-but it’s a trend that’s often repeated on III. To get to moments of immediacy or bliss, it’s after 3 minutes of bullshit.

Although I hoped Cro-Magnon’s third release could have been blasted out of big speakers, the album is simply too sparse and lifeless to accomplish dancing. When Cro-Magnon add guest vocals to three of ten tracks, two result in lounge jams and one in the danceless stupidity of “survivor”. Thumping beats blasting over “let’s work it out-on the dancefloor, keep on spinnin’-will you want some more?” and “work it, work it out, let’s work it” could be forgiven “on the dancefloor”. But not on an album that begs to be jump started, from beginning to end.

Despite the complex moniker, nbsa (National Band School Associates) organized a fine display of Japanese music at ageHa on Sunday night. From 7pm till sunrise, nbsa was deeper than the average all-nighter. Offering rock, soul, dance, live painting and didgeridoos, all rooms were open and packed early. The Island bar & lounge hosted the chill beats of Insideman aka Q and SAMATA, the Arena showcased the salsa of copa salvo, and the outdoor pool scene was home to the strange beauty of HIFANA.

First up, the blazing instrumentalists: Goma and the Jungle Rhythm Section. It’s not often you can witness a band that features a didgeridoo, two drummers and a percussionist. Set on a stand, stretching toward the audience, the beautiful wooden instrument created a ceaseless wave of sound. Though the didgeridoo didn’t have the range of other melodic instruments, Goma’s pipes laid a mystical cover over the audience while his three bandmates stomped on a variety of drums. With the stage surrounded by plants and mini-palms, it felt like a throwdown in a rain forest.

The mind blowing percussion of Goma gave way to the average jamband Razoku- a fun but light band whose skinny trio sound felt weak on the large stage. Razoku led into Gagle, who presented the laid-back, lounge-y hip hop of Hunger and DJ Mitsu. Japanese hip hop tends to feel weak, clearly by a language prejudice and a dislike for Yankees hats with the sticker still on. But Gagle, mixing Golden Age hip-hop and the vocal-beats of Funky Mic (think Razell) put on an impressive set.

Nbsa was not the first show to try the gapless all night concert- the organizers attempted to bring the next band on before the previous, aiming for non-stop music. The admirable goal wasn’t totally smooth and not every band jammed together well (or at all), but this collage of musicians from all genres created some mind blowing moments. As Spinna B-Ill walked off, leaving his MC friends to close the set, Sun Paulo sauntered on stage in ridiculous, half American Indian/ half RPG villain headdresses. The wailing guitar of Taiji Sato cut through the vocal beats, creating a wicked combination of classic rock guitar, big bass and spitshot rhymes. When Sun Paulo’s drummer joined in, the groove was too sweet not to love.

Plenty of bands provided originality at nbsa 2008, but none did it with the satisfying smoothness of Sun Paulo. Hard to believe they rocked the hardest and had the crowd in full party mode simultaneously. The soaring guitar and happy thump of “part 2: Exit” and “Turn On, Tune In” were fully developed songs that stayed entirely danceable. Behind Sato’s Les Paul were Takashi Numazawa (drums) and the atmospheric keyboard of Toshiyuki Mori. Together they created a sound with the immediacy of house, layered with rock riffs and phenomenal live rhythms.

If you haven’t heard of HIFANA and you like all sorts of beats, you must check them out. Performing under the name “hifana@home”, the two DJs began with tunes that were scattered at best. They played: video game samples, Django Reinhardt licks, organ jazz and the occasional dropping of a hip hop beat. For the first twenty minutes, it was original, ludicrous and totally undanceable. Thankfully, the second half of the set twisted into more fan friendly territory. HIFANA’s sound is like a mystical jack-in-the-box, you have no idea what’s gonna come out or at what time. Fortunately for the ass-shakers, the duo dropped more funk and classic hip hop into the mix, still experimenting with jazz samples and Asian chord progressions. The wild set finished with the Mario Bros. theme, warped through HIFANA’s freak-out filter. Follow these DJs.

Japan’s crowd favorite, Soil & “Pimp” Sessions put on a short show at the Arena, following an admirable set by Cro-Magnon. The jazzheads were adored by the crowd, but lacked their usual energy or any agitation from the President, Shacho. Maybe it was the brief set time or lack of fresh material, but Soil & Pimp did not push anyone to the brink on Sunday night.

Nbsa was a fantastic night of original Japanese music, but also a reminder that most of it is severely overlooked by the non-Nihon-jin population. Fantastic sets by Goma, Sun Paulo and HIFANA were just a few examples that showed the state of Nippon music to be rock solid.

-Adam Niederpruem

Soil & “Pimp” Sessions:

Planet Pimp (Victor, Brownswood; 2008)

Soil & “Pimp” Sessions should be the one Japanese band everyone knows. Their thick jazz-funk-fusion stomp is unmatched in terms of pure energy. It is not easy for a guitarless, instrumental sextet to generate the kind of fan base S&P have established in their homeland. One of the finest exporters of Japan’s genre eluding music, their 4^th full length album, Planet Pimp should further international interest.

S&P’s latest begins very much like their previous albums. After a brief chamber organ intro, the band bursts into “Hollow” a pulse of 2-note horns, heavy drumming and megaphone gibberish provided by President/Agitator Shacho. It’s the kind of intensity that rarely comes from a saxophone and trumpet- but soon annoys without any range or groove. Fortunately, the relief comes midway through the song when the funk kicks in and rides out the track. There are six members in S&P, but the English media often focuses on the “Pimp” in Soil and “Pimp”. Dressed in a black pimp outfit onstage Shacho may play a mini-synth for a song, but he has basically no effect on the music- he’s like an MC’s little brother, but much less annoying. It’s the five instrumentalists that do it all for S&P.

The album grows like its older brother LP’s, the mad scramble opener giving way to “Storm”, which trades a bit of funk for jazz. Though some listeners may shy away from the very notion of jazz, S&P’s sound has the fangs to cut through any premonitions of soft, light, dead end compositions. At the core of S&P’s bite are Midorin’s wicked drums. He rarely resorts to tapping the ride cymbal, instead opting to bang his bass drum like a dance floor beat, fluttering his hi-hat and smashing his snare like a rock drummer. The syncopation on “Sea of Tranquility” and “Fantastic Planet” allow the piano and horns to stomp and turn standard jazz scales instead out. “Fantastic Planet” is an ideal S&P track- Latin piano from Josei, flailing horns, pulsing rhythm section and a lightly harmonized vocal bring the track to completion.

One of the caveats of the band, obvious to a long term fan or an S&P rookie is the tendency to repeat flamboyant horn harmonies. Motoharu’s sax usually feels above Tabu’s trumpet when they play together on the choruses. The scream of the sax sounds like a man on fire escarping a burning building- and often its S & P’s studio strength and weakness. The wail of the sax tends to drown out the equally talented, more atmospheric trumpet.

In March, Josei, Akita and Midiorn released Just a Maestro under the moniker J.A.M. The album was a turn to the more traditional jazz trio mode, minus the horns. The side project shows the talent of S&P’s rhythm section, especially Josei on keys. Clearly J.A.M.’s leader, Josei’s originality and compositional freshness on Just a Maestro are regrettably absent on Planet Pimp. A turn to make the piano the lead might have made a strong progression in S&P’s sound.

Though devoted followers won’t hear a drastic change on Planet Pimp, S&P throw in a few new elements into their studio catalog. In particular, the effects treated horns of “Go Next!” and the light lasers of “The World is Filled by…” add a bit of variety to the S&P library. An authentic advance of S&P’s tone isn’t found until the opening bass notes of “Struggle”. Moving from a spacey, free form intro to a jazz standard, the band turns soulful for the first time on a record, when the brooding piano gives way to soaring trumpet. As the longest track in their studio library, it’s the finest example of S&P pushing their sound and ability as composers.

From the beginning, 2005’s Pimp Master, S&P have always been a tight band. The powerful horns still bounce between monotonous licks and inspired solos. Josei’s piano often sticks to the salsa sound, but gets slightly more reflective and even mysterious in the latest LP. The power and originality still washes away the occasional irritating repetition. And although it often feels Soil & “Pimp” have maximized this type of sound on their fourth full length, there are too many blissful moments to mind.

- Adam Niederpruem

What you may have heard is correct; Japan’s Fuji Rock Festival is nowhere near Mt. Fuji. Japan’s largest music event was once held under the unmistakable mountain- but on a Saturday in 1997, a typhoon swept across the festival and canceled its second day. After a one year stint in Tokyo, the event has been held in Niigata, Japan- a prefecture filled with mountains, adjacent to the Sea of Japan. Naeba Ski Resort, the home of Fuji Rock, is tucked away in a small mountain range- half hour by bus to the nearest train station. This festival traveler went by bicycle like a fool up the winding mountain roads to the entrance. Early in the day, twenty four hours till the music would be playing non-stop; the riding was smooth in different levels of constant incline. Surprisingly, the road was calm, only a dozen or so bikers and a handful of buses. It was an excellent peaceful ride before the legion of free shuttle buses were to start.

The two lane road to Fuji Rock is filled with onsen (hot springs) and the occasional minshuku (family run lodges). About 5km from the resort the road snaked its way on the sides of mountains with long, mountain side tunnels- the kind in all racing video games. After a steep decline, past the too-early cars attempting to park, the early crowd waited on a concrete slab.

Japan, being 80% mountainous, forced campers to sleep on ridiculous inclines, avoiding the impending doom of sun in a country without daylight savings time. After settling in, most ongaku lovers headed to the Red Marquee- where most of late night ass shaking would happen. Thursday was an introduction- eating international food, watching fire jugglers and relaxing in the blue lights of the long indoor tent.

Fuji opened with a set of Japanese DJ’s, followed by a shitty hard rock band. The lead vocalists mantra was the louder you yell, the more you feel like you’re at a festival. There was good reason the band wasn’t listed on the program. However, there would be no suffering at Fuji Rock 2008, only breaks and interludes till the next good band. By the time your curry, okonomiyaki or yakitori was finished; the DJ’s were back on blasting everything from dirty break beats to hip-hop. Most fans did not underestimate the value of pavement to dance on, or the beauty of a first rate music festival hidden in the mountains of Japan.

Presidents of the United States of America

“I can’t wait to hear Peaches!” is how the usual POTUSA fan talks. Barely famous in the U.S. from their 1994 debut, the Presidents carried a solid crowd to the Green Stage following Rodrigo y Gabriela. The goofball trio appeared totally down to earth in shorts doing their own sound check- later reappearing in flashy red, blue and black shirts.

From the beginning, POTUSA were hilarious. They fit their childish little songs like “Dune Buggy” and “Boll Weevil” perfectly, dancing around the stage, extending endings with battling guitar and bass- constantly jumping. The lunchtime crowd bought into all the cheesiness immediately, for the simple fact that the Presidents love what they do- its plain on all 3 faces. They roared through older tunes like “Mach V” and made newer ones, “Volcano” just as catchy as their debut album. At one point, the lead president on bass, Chris Ballew, got off the stage and played an invisible harmonica till out of breath, lying on his back, pedaling an invisible bicycle in front of the stage.

Masatrica

Somehow, Latin piano always creates dancing. This type of salsa piano fueled a phenomenal set at the Gypsy Avalon. Led by the adorable, cinnamon haired Kinu, Mastarica woke up the lazy, not-ready-to-go-all-night crowd. By the end of their first tune, the Japanese natives had the crowd dancing, wanting to throw their arms around the unbelievably catchy band. Mastarica’s sound hit on all types of danceable, worldly music, settling in for a 10 minute reggae ham that never got stale. Kinu sauntered around the stage and thanked everyone for hanging out at the smaller stage. She had no problems handing the mic to a drunken dude who jumped on stage and shouted about My Bloody Valentine’s shitiness. No one who witnessed Mastarica wished they’d seen otherwise. As the set continued, tunes picked up with percussion and drums rattling all over the slick bass, and of course, the piano had everyone smiling. Mastarica was another fine example of a Japanese band taking a particular sound and playing the shit out of it.

Bootsy Collins: Tribute to the Godfather of Soul

A huge collection of backup singers, big afro dancers, a horn section, a James Brown imitator and Bootsy Collins took the stage late on Friday. The band had everyone doing their personal best James Brown. The massive White Stage was packed with entertainers and musicians and a James Brown imitator who never stopped asking for the bridge. Bootsy Collins, the legendary bassist, introduced every few songs with “We have a very special song for you now…,” It was a perfect recreation of everything the Soul Man was about- connecting with the audience releasing non–stop funk with a tireless horn section. Even 200 meters from the stage, the sound was full and fantastic. Towards the end of the show the band ripped through 4 to 6 songs straight, rattling the crowd till every foot had blisters. Credit had to go to Mr. Collins for bringing the fine musicians together. The energy never calmed and the performance never soured from a sense of nostalgia or a half assed tribute. It was a beautiful funk slap to the face, and those who drank the contagious brew never quit moving.

After the organic funk faded but before the inorganic night beats began, most folks sat wherever they found a slice of earth. Outside the Red Marquee, a beautiful patch of think cedar trees rose- the recliners for exhausted fans. There were candles everywhere and misty blue lights pointed upwards, creating an aqua mist to relax in. Eventually some UK friends told us we should be pumped to see the curious…

Dan Le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip

“Do you listen to UK hip-hop? Well most of it is shit, except for a few acts,” dubbed Scoobius Pip. The funny part was, Scroobius Pip was and is not a rapper, there was absolutely no flow or bounce to his delivery. Mr. Le Sac did the beats and Scoobius did the rapping- or- poetry- or storytelling- or….whatever level of quality you wish to prescribe him. With a laptop and a mic, the duo laid down dirty, overexcited UK beats and from what was understood, street tales from their native land. Scoobius, tall and lanky in his dark colored suit- gave a formal “Thank you very much” after each tune. Midway through the set he offered his opinion on the state of UK hip-hop. But the duo felt completely out of place, proclaiming what is and isn’t good hip-hop. The act felt like a random open mic night-it did not resemble a concert. A chubby man behind a laptop, really feeling his mouse, will never get a crowd excited. The beats sounded as if an insane, rabid man took a sledgehammer and whirled it around a musical funhouse. The tracks burst with over layered sound effects and a tempo that rarely connected with the lyrics. In other words, the beats almost always annoyed. But for those who lean to the lyric-heavy, straight poet delivery- the duo may be worth a second look.

Grandmaster Flash

Starting out with classic east and west coast hip-hop, Tribe to Tupac- it wasn’t long before the “Man Who First Used the Turntable as an Instrument” started yelling at the crowd. This fan wondered if the hip hop founder actually enjoyed the set, with all of his yelling at the audience. A classic DJ, even without his long history, Grandmaster put his minimal scratching to songs that would be on a Best of Hip Hop playlist. He was simply a good DJ to a great party.

Proud of himself to the death, GM Flash couldn’t stop ranting about an ignorant interviewer from The Japan Times, an English newspaper who had no idea “Who the Fuck I am!” but he would show “Who the Fuck I am!” throughout the show. The MC’s visuals also displayed his achievements with a promotional slide show that came across like a Power Point presentation. Despite the needless self-promotion and ranting, the Grandmaster had no problems getting everyone on the floor with Dr. Dre, Biggie and Nirvana. Yes, unfortunately the MC decided to show he can play rock by uncomfortably letting “Teen Spirit” play well past its first head banging moments. But like any decent history of hip hop set, House of Pain made everyone jump till the “Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee” walked off the stage.

The late night crowd was bursting with energy and bright faces after Grandmaster’s set and a few thousand people took the 30 minute forest walk to the Orange Court. The last large stage of the festival, the Orange Court was one of three all night venues on Friday night. The boardwalk was surreal at night, even for the chemically sober. Above our heads, huge cardboard dragonflies twirled, disco balls hung over branches and disco ball families laid in the forest. The design and care for the atmosphere was impeccable- late night walks like these were a very memorable part of the festival, especially when the heavenly electronica of Sugiurumn got increasingly louder with each step.

Sugiurumn

In the realm of electonica, it’s easy to get lost in the genres, types, species and this week’s bastard mix of trip hop freak jungle. Sugiurumn, a Japanese DJ, spun shimmering, airy techno in front of a joyful, dirt dancing crowd. Preceded by Paul Van Dyke, Sugiurumn sounded like a soundtrack to a sunrise that lasted 2 hours. All of the frustrating facets of techno music were not apparent during the set. There were no super tweak outs, chop and slice cutting, or stop-the-beat/start-the-beat tricks- simply continuous mystical beats and an orange sun rising.

Bryan-Burton-Lewis

As the sky turned aqua blue around 5am, the worst parts of techno returned with Mr. Burton-Lewis. His entire repertoire could be filtered down to a few minutes of music. Of course the man with the 4:50am slot did his best to keep the crowd moving, but the techno bag of tricks did not match Sugiurumn’s atmosphere or distinctive mood.

Janet Klein

Ms. Klein did not look like a person living in 2008. Her ghostly pale skin, 100 year old cinnamon dress and flowered, braided hair made her look like a musical museum figure. She walked in a normal pace about the stage, microphone in hand, bright eyes and red lipstick announcing “This is a little tune about finding a nice house in the South.” And it was. Ms. Klein’s voice is old-fashioned, and the music matched her 1913 appearance. The traditional country, backwater bluegrass and American folk tunes would’ve made the Lomax family smile. She crooned her way through tales of love, jealousy and songs about enjoying the beauty and hospitality of her homeland.

Accompanying the Southern dame were Captain Colonel Sanders on banjo (Tom Marion) and your literature professor (Benny Brydern) on violin. Uncle Jed (George Edwards) laid the back porch beat with spoons, floor toms and a few cymbals. The interplay between members was loose and lazy except for the precise, saoring fiddle of Mr. Brydren. The bluegrass and country songs had room to breathe and left plenty of space for the light voice of Ms. Klein to wrap around the music. She blew kisses to the audience, thanking us like the kindest of grandmothers. Folks who have bluegrass, country or old timey O Brother Where Art Thou tunes in their library stayed and admired. Others stood, stared and tried to understand the well dressed band playing deep Southern folk in the middle of Japan.

Gogol Bordello

The members of Gogol Bordello put on the loudest, most passionate show of Fuji Rock 2008. Not all bands were seen, but the music created on the White Stage was the best live performance this music lover has ever seen. To begin the show, Eugene Hutz, a short man with long brown hair and mustache sang, “If we are here not to do, what you-and-I wanna do, and go forever crazy with it, why the hell we even here….Da!” And the band exploded into the beginning of a gypsy punk circus. The thousands near the stage went instantly insane. Jumping as high as we could, people started locking arms and kicked together like drunken Russians. The mix of Sergey Rjablev’s fiddle layered with Yuri Lemeshev`s accordion created an incredible world of sound. All members of the band contributed with shouts, laughs and screams, beckoning and inspiring each other to play faster. Gogol Bordello’s music is fiercely passionate and intense; the music alone is enough to feel overwhelmingly alive. Eugene’s presence is demanding, never slowing or stalling- constantly moving and pushing his voice as far as possible for the audience. The call and response between his vocals and the band created a rare brotherhood within the crowd. Gogol Bordello never slowed down at Fuji, they were machines that played like death was soon waiting.

Bordello continued its circus of genre crushing tunes with “Not a Crime”, Hutz setting the band on fire, then shifting to soft accordion and violin breaks in-between. From the slow interludes came the always returning stomp that was the heart of the show. In particular “Wonderlust King”, 15 minutes into the set, sent the masses into a riot like a whorehouse in Eastern Europe where every soul was drunk, dancing or flailing insanely. It helps to imagine chandelier swinging, crashing through windows, etc. When the stomp slowed to let Eugene Hutz belt into his microphone, such power came from the short Ukrainian- it was impossible not to love this man and his passion.

While the stomp seems to work its way into many of Bordello’s songs, tracks like the mysterious “60 Revs “and the humor in “American Wedding” were perfect examples of the range of the band. When Eugene sings “Think Locally, Fuck Globally” or urges you to “Start Wearing Purple”, you may not do it, but you will experience one of the best musical events of your life. The band blends its worldly songs with a thick layer of Gypsy soaked, “lah da da da, da da da dahh….” With thousands singing these wordless choruses the show had an animal momentum that wasn’t broken by the brief pauses between songs. By the time Eugene slammed drumsticks on a bucket propped on his mic, or the cheerleading dancers came on, the greatness of this band was already apparent. It was a celebration of being alive.

Underworld

I believe the largest gathering of people in Japan since the last Fuji Rock occurred at the top Saturday slot. The dreamy, slow blending atmosphere of Underworld opened with sleepy, slightly jazzy techno mixed with occasional vocals and electric guitar. Underworld did not explode with break beats or 30 second climaxes. Everything flowed and blended softly with the gradual unlocking of a new shade of electronica. The Englishmen built momentum with a wash of guitar and distant harmonizing that veered Underworld’s sound only slightly, amping the crowd throughout the 90 minute set. The beats didn’t get low and the snare didn’t snap till midway through the set, when the lighting strikes of “Moaner” pulled the band and the audience into the black night with the unstoppable roar of laptops and massive black speakers. The beat and samples smoothly slid toward the natural sounding peak. The subtlety wasn’t unappreciated. Although the show was lighter and airy than expected, when giant white balls were released on the audience, everyone was at peace.

The Place Where Freaks Go

Saturday was the night of freaks at Fuji Rock Festival. Officially named the “Palace of Wonder”, it sat outside the main festival area. After crossing a footbridge guarded by a robot, the palace offered:

· Plenty of metal robots, powered by electricity and steam

· A flame of fire 40 feet high controlled and mixed with water, creating a shifting ladder of fire- the ultimate pyro fantasy

· An all night stage of rookie bands

· A mock battle between a double headed horseman and a car engine, retooled and spiced to make a thumping, walking, hissing mechanical dog.

· A Joe Strummer memorial bench

· A VW van converted into a mini smokehouse

· A cabaret sing-along with full bar

· The world-famous Crystal Palace with performances by Mountain Mocha Kilimanjaro, Cumbia Kid, Hackney Globetrotter and Gogol Bordello with the 3am slot.

With most people enjoying the spectacle of music, fire, liquor and robots, the Crystal Palace was at full capacity for Gogol Bordello well before 3am. A long, disappointed crowd waited outside, hoping for an unknowing drunk to leave the palace. A skinny and determined Fuji Rock worker held off the frustrated crowds at the side door, so most danced where they stood, or got on shoulders to get a glimpse at Eugene Hutz’s global crew.

Bagdad Cafe the Trench Town

There’s nothing like roots rock reggae to start a morning off. With the soothing lead vocals of Mai and her harmonizing backup ladies, Ran and Big Mom, waking up to reggae felt so easy. Japan loves Jamaica’s music, and although the morphing of reggae sound hasn’t yet reached the popularity of the UK’s mutations, Nippon is a great location for rebel rockers and dancehall addicts.

Fortunately, Japan’s reggae comes in more natural forms, including the 11-piece Bagdad Cafe the Trench Town. Bagdad Cafe’s music was pure pleasure. The standard reggae instruments with tenor sax and trombone gave Bagdad a fuller sound than the average roots rockers. The three ladies with colorful head wraps and swinging arms sang in harmony and settled into thick grooves with tracks like “Everything”. It was hard not to get chills when listening to Mai sing “Never Go”, with soothing sweetness and lazy horns backing her up. Mai sings in Japanese, but has the particular skill of switching to English for a quick “that’s forever…” or “one love…”, but did so smoothly it never sounded forced or awkward. Bagdad’s harmonies and horns were so deep, most songs felt like that could’ve gone an hour without being stale. This was and is highly recommended reggae.

Double Famous

The sprawling, sometimes instrumental, classic rock of Double Famous opened the Field of Heaven on Sunday. A professionally dressed 10 piece of banjo, guitar, mandolin, ukulele, accordion, horns, bongos, congas and vocalists created deep Los-Lobos like sound. The mandolin and Latin guitars gave some songs a very traditional feel- surprising many who had no idea this was a Japanese band. Based in Tokyo, the Nihon-jin dressed in bowties, dresses and cowboy hats were a peaceful band with sleepy horns- those on 3 hours of rest appreciated the slow pace. This band rushed nothing and laid down a set of developed tracks, both in English and Japanese. The band took classic tracks and twisted them slightly to give a lazy, tropical feel to “Also Sprach Zarathustra”, complete with slide guitar. The band turned to Latin influences and switched to Mexican wedding mode with “Tuesday Waltz”, where lead vocals of Miyuki Hatakeyama rose and fell with the sax and trumpet. There was even a lounge version of “Me and Bobby McGee” sung in perfect English.

Field of Heaven, the perfect middle sized stage at Fuji, was not a field. It had the same dirt feel as the others. But the Field had the highest concentration of organic foods, coffees, hats graffiti and overall chilliest lineup on Sunday. With Double Famous leading things off, one bearded man and his 3 guitars moseyed on stage.

Seasick Steve

Steve looks like he’s from Mississippi, but was born in California and is based in Norway. These facts don’t matter much, because Steve played simple blues tunes on worn guitars. He does not try to impress and had no hesitation throwing back Jack at midday. With a John Deere hat, old tang top, fat belly and dirty beard, Steve’s growl and slide guitar were his signatures. “My Dolly’s so fine…she love me all the time” started things off. It was a basic blues tune with 3 lines of lyrics, but Steve made it his. Seated, stomping on an old crate/book for the beat, Steve jerked off his open-tuned guitar, pushing the slide to the highest frets, head thrown back and foot bouncing. The crowd jumped in with claps to Steve’s foot as he finally cooled his right hand off. After most songs, he gave a polite bow to the crowd.

Many of the blues tracks ended in a slide guitar flip out that soon became dull. Steve is not a great guitarist; his finger picking style is very limited for a player who almost exclusively uses the slide. But the audience took Steve as he was, and all the English speakers in the crowd loved his stories and personal notes, “A few years ago I had no money and job” and a history of the one string Diddly Bow, which Steve duct- taped to his leg. The lone guitarman also told a story about his insane stepdad that pushed him to the edge- and started the long journey that eventually led him to Japan. With plenty of personality, but not enough musical variety, Seasick Steve would have been perfect in a 30 minute set. In 60 minutes, Steve’s material was pushed to the breaking point.

J.A.M.

J.A.M. is a trio of piano, drums and bass from Soil and “Pimp” Sessions, the frantic, Japanese jazz band. Soil and “Pimp” are defined by their explosiveness. They play like the most talented kids in school band got together and drank a lot of Jolt and ate Pop Rocks. With the signature sax and trumpet gone, J.A.M. became a true jazz trio. Technical, fast- but never avant-garde or smooth- the band was impressive with their instruments. All fantastic players, they were led by Josei on piano, who occasionally thanked the crowd in his juicy curly mop. Midorin, one of the finest drummers in Japan had his solos, along with Akita Goldman on bass, who took his turn slapping his upright wooden beast.

As tight as any band could be, J.A.M lacked the explosiveness and originality of their full band manifestation. Out of the 8 or 9 tunes played, one or two had memorable melodies. The range of the band was hinted at with Latin piano breaks, heavy handed drumming and Middle Eastern chords- but it never fully developed. This was a band that deserves a proper record purchase; the problem with jazz to outsiders of the genre is the identical blandness. J.A.M has all the bite lacking from coffee shop or smooth jazz- all of the members are supremely talented. But for those who have seen the trio as part of the larger, “Pimp” production felt a little let down.

Michael Franti and Spearhead

If you enjoy being happy, or like rock or reggae, you will enjoy Spearhead. The ever touring rockers played one of the finest sets at Fuji Rock 2008. Franti, the huge, lumbering front man, juggled a soccer ball on stage, danced and got in close with his audience. Spearhead had everyone jumping and singing in the rain with an addictive call and response of “Hello (Hello), Hola (Hola), Bonjour (Bonjour) Konichiwa, konichciwa wa”. The set was perfectly mixed, Dave Shul’s guitar sounded especially tight. If Spearhead’s latest album feels a bit bogged down by over-production and effects- the show was all roots. Franti made sure everyone was jumping at the choruses- singing along whenever possible. Tracks like “Rude Boys Back in Town” proved Spearhead are comfortable everywhere they play. Even though Franti’s message is basically peace and love, his delivery is not cliché.

When the band stepped away from the island roots they were just as convincing and no less fun. During the soggy Sunday afternoon, Franti slowed things down with a few solo numbers. Seated on a barstool, steam rose from his shoulders, surrounding the huge dude in mist. Even under the wetness, things were on fire on and off stage. When the band joined Franti to finish the show, a rainbow hung over the festival- but Spearhead was too focused to notice. A wicked end to the daylight hours of Fuji Rock 2008.

Lee “Scratch” Perry

Lee Scratch Perry is 72 years old. He told the crowd this after the 2^nd song of his set. Most people came to see the reggae legend, not a life changing reggae show- and those expectations were met. After his band opened with a standard, unremarkable instrumental- Lee walked briskly onto the stage. He had on a black army-like suit, African general style. He also sported a hat with a fistful of burning incense smoking from the back.

Mr. Perry didn’t sing, he mainly talked, spouting one-liners that felt very separate from the music. His words reminded me of a blazed, spiritual self-help tape. The band played as he walked around, stretching his arms, yelling “Exercise!” Other lyrics, which were often repeated in the show included:

“Rub a dub!”

“I did not lie, I will not die”

“Open your car door! You hands are your car door!”

“Take care of your garden”

“Jesus was a black man/we are all black/your shadow is black”

“Give me a light, to light my splif/ Nooo tobacco, give me marijuana!”

These, among plenty of others were memorable and the standard backing band was successful at backing up an old man and his life advice. There were complete songs in the set, but the man with the fine smelling hat was always in his own separate world. Although this didn’t make for a great show, songs blended into one another and many fans did their little walk-in-place reggae dance. To finish the show, Perry bounced and talked over “Exodus”- struggling to find the words, or the timing. When the crowd cleared, a few fans said “Wow, he’s 72, that’s…great”.

Rodrigo y Gabriela

After their late-night set was cancelled on Saturday, Rodrigo y Gabriela were back to finish the day at the Field of Heaven. In a completely different atmosphere from Friday morning, the duo wasted no time ripping into songs from their self-titled LP. There were no technical problems this time- only smiles and the clenched, concentrated faces of the performers. The deep, often reflective mood changes in covers like “Orion” fit well with the night. With the longer set time, the guitarists unleashed their longer numbers and extended their endings, jamming and breaking for Gabriela’s quick fire wrist and Rodrigo’s knifing solos.

There was no introduction, no build up, only the music that took off incredible impatience. Rodrigo y Gabriela’s ability to blend traditional Latin and Celtic sounding chords with metal licks in tracks like “Tamacun” and “Viking Man” created a sound unlike other instrumentalists. The set had inertia, each song roaring forward, leaving the audience mesmerized, on the edge for each timing change.

Like the metal they both played back in Mexico City, tracks with heavy riffs on Spanish rhythms sounded clear and heavy, and exactly as precise as the album. The fury of “Juan Loco”, along with Metallica and Led Zeppelin covers sounded magnificent. Rodrigo introduced “Stairway to Heaven” solo, filling all the gaps between Jimmy Page’s spacey intro. He laid the notes all over the original progression, it felt like he would miss that defining Zeppelin chord to bring the song back to its roots, but he never did. When Gabriela rejoined him, the full beauty of the song was realized. The duo was very appreciative of the crowd, thanking us for listening to their music. And the universe of sound they created truly was their music- few others can match the originality, range and beauty they create. Rodrigo y Gabriela put on a phenomenal, 2 hour show from two of the finest guitarists releasing music. Most left the Field of Heaven smiling in fulfillment.

Qomolangma Tomato:

Limelight Blue on the Q.T. (EMI Japan; 2008)

After hearing Qomolangma Tomato’s debut LP, it’s easy to be convinced they are one of the tightest rock outfits in Japan. It may take a while to find their second full length, Limelight Blue on the Q.T. in a Japanese store, due to the fact that “Qomolangma” is pronounced “chomoranma”. An alternate name for Mt. Everest, the band’s name is easily forgettable. But anyone who has seen QT live or listened to their first album knows it’s the vocals of Naruto Ishii that don’t fade from memory. On “through your reality”, the opener on QT’s debut, Ishii comes roaring out of the gates with a spoken, barely melodic rant in Japanese and English- spouting and mocking “don’t eat meat. No smoking. Don’t drink a cup of coffee. Can you do it? They must kill you.”

On Limelight, the same angst and sing-speak delivery covers the first half of the album. The opener “359度は捨てる ～地下街の喫茶店”, picks up after a few calming bass notes, hi-hat touches and a meddling, spiraling bass line. Haruo Yamanaka’s bass winds up Ishii’s sing-speak delivery until his shout turns to scream. Many of QT’s tracks are heavy on this relentless punk attack of relentless vocals and repeated guitar lines, with the occasional slowdown to rock riffs. The opening track of Limelight is a fine introduction to QT- a band that allows its frontman to roam around guitar licks and head bobbing bass lines. Rarely satisfied with a traditional verse-chorus structure, QT’s music adapts to the fuming Ishii, blasting at his most furious moments, and instantly turning it down for a soft interlude.

It is the play between the three instruments and vocals that solidify QT as a unit. But on first listen the band chugs forward on tracks like: “FIVE SENSES-FIVE MINUTES” and “追い詰められて”. The first half of Limelight suffers from cardboard standard bridges that seem to be fillers till Ishii’s next rant. The speak-type delivery can be monotonous, especially with minimal understanding of Japanese. Ishii is not concerned with singing in key, or simply singing, on the opening tracks. The guitar, bass and drums do break up the vocals, spacing out the sound, but it only feels like a break to a tirade. Although some listeners might not make it through the angry frontman’s screams, it’s hard not to grab on to Ishii’s earnest delivery.

Overall the band is dynamic enough to keep things interesting. On the second half of the album, Naoya Ogura’s electric chop blends and replaces the vocals with bridges that make the head bounce instead of bang. On “距離を感じる”, a twittering snare, hissing hit-hat and pulsing bass/guitar combination fuel one the finest tracks on the album, without too much spoken intrusion. QT’s influences begin to show themselves on the softer track “Public Noise Fade Out”. The track smacks new life into the sub 40 minute album. Ishii lets the band breathe and spread into the open space with a brilliant stop-start bridge and a beautiful finish.

One California band always comes to mind when listening to QT- “At the Drive In”. Although similar in vocalists, QT doesn’t stray into the black oblivion or have hints of electronica like the California natives. On Limelight, the young band shows the potential to break open their songs and let the juices spill out like in ATDI’s calmer moments. Although the first half of the album can feel like being trapped in a familiar swamp, the 2^nd half funk and melody lift the album to recommended status. All of this points toward a bright future for QT, and with only a year between first and second LP, it’s a step forward for one of the brighter bands in the country.

-Adam Niederpruem