By Alex Distefano
By Scott Snowden
By Anna Merlan
By Steve Almond
By Jena Ardell
By Jon Campbell
By Alan Scherstuhl
By Tessa Stuart
We all have our generational breaking point.
Whether it's Mick Jagger's dinosaur skeleton jerking around a Super Bowl stage or the 5,000th Ameriquest commercial about managing baby boomer money in a "rock and roll" kind of way, a listener's eventually going to lose it and reset his classic-rock radio presets. Kids need to have their say: Foreign language? Novel artwork? Clever genre name? It all flies, just as long as Mom can't take credit. Reggaetón for reggae, grime for hip-hop, or, if NYC's spring concert calendar is any indication, guitar rock from Japan for guitar rock from the Jurassic.
In the next couple months, New York venues will bring kids the all-over-Japan collective Acid Mothers Temple and Tokyo- based art-rocked cinematics MONO, while March 17 through 19, Brooklyn's No Fun Fest will present Masahiko Ohno's Solmania, a two-decade-plus noise and handmade guitar project; naturalized former Japaner and DNA drummer Ikue Mori; and Astromero, a duo comprising C.C.C.C. experimental legend Hiroshi Hasegawa and American Damion Romero.
Lay down your border patrol arms, dudes. "Personally I think there isn't anything common among these bands except all of us are from the same country, and it happens to be Japan," says MONO guitarist Taka. OK, sure; but cultist Sabbath worship has a way of bringing together even the most disparate dope smokers. Newfound metal hipsters drunk on SunnO))) drumless drones, Earth hum, or blazed High on Fire riffery might initially be confused when hit with Acid Mothers psych-rockguitar solo, what?but will quickly wise to the fact that Japanese avants never really stopped fucking with metal. Boris, another long-running Japanese guitar trio, will release their Mot Pink on Southern Lord in April, and it may well snatch 2006's Hessian crown, suppurating amp sewage and oh-yeah vocals into one long, retro, messy air guitar movement.
Call it "riffs without groupies," or "big stage without the backstage." Though Pink has a whiff of pelvis thrust, mostly Boris and AMT are decidedly unsexy, naked ladies aside. Starless and Bible Black Sabbath is a tribute to, well, Black Sabbath, and for this Kawabata's proggy unwashed hair is about right. The album's lead track plays with "Black Sabbath" Iommi-isms and airy Ozzy, then rips off into headspace, chasing meandering guitar colors and Higashi Hiroshi's synthesizer feedback. Acid Mothers can try your patiencemost of us regret the redundant fourth or fifth album by them we picked upbut Starless, as straight-up homage, bids hard for what Kawabata calls "the power and energy that was internalized by rock prior to the mid '70s."
Kawabata takes orthodoxy (insanely) seriously. When asked where his band fits in among his country's noise blast and sleepy long songs, he wrote me simply: "You do a grave disrespect to noise musicians by mentioning them in the same breath as heinous lower-than-shit music like post-rock. That said, I do not care for noise music, and even though my music may be noisy it is never 'noise music.' " For Acid Mothers then, it's either '70s-classic or as far-out as they are: nothing halfway.
But as MONO's Taka puts it, "in any period of time in the history, there are good bands and not-that-good bands. I don't believe either 'rock is dead' or 'rock is reclaimed.' " Sure enough: MONO aren't rockers in the Kawabata sense. Strings and pianos (no AMT "dancin' king" or "cosmic joker" credits for these guys), plus a whitewashed crystalline sound, pretty much guarantee a trip more asleep-at-the-symphony than out-of-your-mind-on-acid. The quartet's You Are There, out in March, is as per usual both aesthetically pristine and slow-movement boring; their Slinted soft-louds are still fine, although I wish sometimes, you know, soft came after loud, or something. As the one-sheet wants it, "They're not heavy like Black Sabbaththey're heavy like Beethoven."
That said, the guitars are a lot louder live, and so far You Are There has been great music to pass out to. It's all rock and roll, right? Acid Mothers and MONO share, at the very least, the same punchline. Says Taka: "One thing I'm quite sure is Led Zeppelin is one of the greatest bands all the time."
Acid Mothers Temple, April 19, Knitting Factory, Main Performance Space, 74 Leonard Street, 212-219-3132; May 20, North Six, 66 North 6th Street, Brooklyn, 718-599-5103; MONO, May 9, Avalon, 662 Sixth Avenue, 212-807-7780; No Fun Fest, March 17 through 19, the Hook, 18 Commerce Street, Brooklyn, 718-797-3007
Polished over four decades, Bettye LaVette's impromptu humor, authoritative stagecraft, and nuanced vocals prompt so electric a connection with concertgoers that her delightful Anti- Records debut may seem a tad flat by comparison. The surprise hit of Carnegie Hall's Joni Mitchell tribute, LaVette brings fresh readings and bluesy depth to distaff songwriters from Fiona Apple to Dolly Parton. Cooper
Mealymouthed, tub-thumping sinner Shane McGowan and his rowdy seven-piece gang bring their folk-punk, boot-stomping hootenanny to NYC for four dates in March, the first time they've toured the U.S. since 1991. Lucky for us Yanks, the Irish crew plays St. Paddy's Day. Classic shout-alongs like "Fairytale of New York" and "Fiesta" are sure shots, and if they play "Danny Boy," better bust out the tissues for the beer tears. O'Donnell