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Live Review: The Corin Tucker Band And N-16 At Sunsui, November 29 2010

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Nearly every review or article written about The Corin Tucker Band and their debut album 1,000 Years mentions how this sounds nothing like Sleater-Kinney. Even the friend I met at Osaka’s Sunsui on November 29 to see the former S-K singer’s solo venture noted just how un S-K her new material could get. It’s an inevitable comparison I guess…Tucker’s Sleater-Kinney are one of the most beloved rock bands in recent memory, the rare group that both made truly excellent music and stood for a lot more. People cherished this band…a little Googlin’ reveals a lot of fans already counting the days until a reunion, which hasn’t even been hinted at yet…so Tucker’s solo outfit probably didn’t have a chance to break free of old comparisons (neither does Wild Flag, btw). Her Band’s show on Monday, though, made a strong case for not just dismissing this project as a time killer, but rather a kick-ass experience all its own.

Japanese band N-16 opened the show up and I guess I better break out the transparency early – my aforementioned friend taught the group’s lead singer English back in the day and as a result we got in for wayyyyyyy cheap. N-16’s set would have wowed me even if they didn’t help me score a discount…thanks again though! The four-piece plays ramshackle punk-rock (inspired by Sleater-Kinney) that manages to be both fuzzy and catchy. Screeching guitar solos gave way to Shonen-Knife-ish, call-and-response choruses between the band’s members. Their set never lagged in energy, and special credit most go to N-16’s lead vocalist (formerly mentioned connection) who apparently hurt her throat two days before so she couldn’t talk at all before the show…but still came out and performed vocal trapeze Monday. They delivered a fun and lively set, one that had Corin Tucker herself bobbing along from the crowd.

The Corin Tucker Band came on shortly after. As everybody has written, they certainly don’t sound like Sleater-Kinney lite…but they also DO sound a lot like S-K. That might sound a bit obvious seeing as the band happens to be headed by a former member of Sleater-Kinney, but Tucker hasn’t really changed up her vocal style or guitar playing for this project. She can still pull off her signature screech at will, as she did frequently at Sunsui, her wail making the chugging “Doubt” even more commanding and transforming a slower, near-ballad like “Pulling Pieces” a forceful edge (let’s also take this moment to point out that Tucker has assembled a great cast for her Band, who create excellent backdrops for her to work wonders over). The Corin Tucker Band might also slow things down a bit more than S-K ever did…Tucker plays an acoustic guitar sometimes whoa!…but they just as often played a similar punchy rock that Tucker’s old band built their name on (see the whirling “Riley,” the highlight of her live set). It can get a little slower and the subject matter skews more towards the personal than the political, but the roots can still be seen regardless of what every critic uses as there lead.

Albums We Missed In 2010 Extravaganza Part One: MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS And Asian Kung-Fu Generation

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December arrives, bringing with it the most truly joyous time of the year…the month where every music critic/blogger labors over their “Year End List” before sharing it with a mostly indifferent world. Of course, this blog isn’t remotely above that…we (by which I mean “just me”) is currently creating such lists with as much care as one devotes to a 3-D puzzle. Expect that jazz in like two weeks-ish. Before that, expect a few special features and this new feature, where I quickly tackle a few albums that I listened to a lot in 2010 but never got around to writing a super wordy review of. These albums aren’t good…some probably suck..but they seem worth talking about. First up…MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS and Asian Kung-Fu Generation.

MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS Zero Comma, Iro Toridori No Sekai

SparkPlugged writer Shen recently named MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS (DREGS from here on out) the “biggest artist of 2010” and I think dude’s got a point. After a few years working the minors, DREGS released a major label full-length (longwinded Zero Comma, Iro Toridori No Sekai that absolutely pulverizes any other major label J-Rock release this year unless Bump Of Chicken drop something insane. Sorry to use the most otaku-ish of imagery here, but imagine an adorable, cartoon schoolgirl punching you in the face with a robotic arm. That’s this album.

Being noisy and melodic isn’t anything new of course, but in the world of J-Rock DREGS dropped this full-length it sounds like a revelation. J-Rock (my definition of this being any pop-rock band who can soundtrack a commercial but don’t often appear on the music shows) rarely sounds this confrontational, usually playing it safe to get that wide-audience money (see the next entry!). DREGS make songs folks from a lot of different walks of life would love…that also happen to be loud and at times, ugly. The best moment on Zero Comma…and summing up what makes DREGS so special…comes on second song “Made (Jounetsu Mix).” What seems like a subdued bit of melodic pop bounces along contently – then comes the chorus. I feel a lot of bands in DREGS position would run the ball up the middle and just have a pleasant, soaring chorus. DREGS speed the drums up to the point where they seemingly break through the song, not matching with the vocals at all. THEN they drop the great, soaring bit.

And so Zero Comma goes. “RAT” merges shoegaze atmosphere with the relentless speed of a prison break, while “Zureru” jerks around in an extremely pretty way. They even slay it on the fucking slow allad “ONEDAY.” Triumphantly looming above the rest, though, is “Hikizuru Beat.” Natsuko Miyamoto’s singing…the chief reason DREGS remains so melodic while trying to give you a bloody nose…delivers a passion-dripping vocal performance that makes the relentless chug of the guitars and drums even better. Like the album as a whole, it’s a special single – managing to be so familiar and so alien at the same time. I hope Shen and I aren’t the only ones trumpeting these guys in English in 2011.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BSG8bLRtOjo”]

Asian Kung-Fu Generation Magic Disk

I really wanted to write an in-depth review of this one, dear reader. I did everything I usually do when I’m determined to really figure an album out…I played it on loop from my computer, read up on the band’s history and put the whole shebang on my iPod so I could listen to it on the train. Fam, I braced to write this thing. “This is one of the most important J-Rock bands ever and they’ve released a new album, one featuring cover art that supposedly does crazy stuff when placed in front of certain makes of web cameras. THIS WILL BE DEEP.”

The days turned into weeks turned into months until this moment, where I come to you and admit I couldn’t find much of interest to say about Magic Disk. It’s not remotely bad but also far from exciting. It’s…just there. This felt like going into the Louvre and discovering the only thing you could look at was the water fountain.

This CD just comes off as such an OK J-Rock experience I’m left pawing at empty thought bubbles, desperate to come across something to say. Asian Kung-Fu Generation mastered this sound long ago and they remain one of the best sorta mainstream J-Rock bands around…though Magic Disk being one of the better examples of that faux-genre speaks more about the landscape than the album…but yeah. I think they might be shooting for some sort of generational message, evidenced by sometimes singing about a “lost generations” and titling songs “Shinseiki no Love Song” (translation: “Love Song Of The New Century”) or “”Sayonara Lost Generation.” Great…but the music just doesn’t move me to write anything besides these rambles.

To be fair, Magic Disk has some great moments. The title track features the album’s best lyrical structure, a buzzy rush leading into a chorus that’s basically just a howl. Some of the slower songs impress, and “Last Dance wa Kanashimi o Nosete” boasts some downright fun percussion that makes what could have been a very same-sounding song on this album jump out. Best of all remains the lead single “Shinseiki no Love Song,” which turns a simple trick (reversed guitars) into something hypnotic when paired with slightly hushed vocals before…well, the song totally flips out on itself and turns incredible.

Those moments shine, but as a whole Magic Disk just seems…good? I don’t regret spending so much time with this album and I’ll admit that thematically this might be way deeper than I’m giving it credit for, Asian Kung-Fun Generation’s The Suburbs even. Still it all seems so unnoteworthy, especially when juxtaposed with the album featured above this entry – DREGS pounds on your door demanding that you hear it. Asian Kung-Fu knocks nicely a couple times and leaves when you don’t answer.

Review: 80kidz Weekend Warrior

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80kidz have issues with timing. If the one secret to obtaining blog hype is making sure your artistic outfit exists at just the right moment, the Tokyo duo managed to just miss out on being way bigger than they ended up. Justice exploded in 2007, grabbing mad popularity and critical praise which led to an explosion in “blog house” music leading to a monopoly on the Hype Machine and countless riffing by Hipster Runoff. 80kidzs’ first EP didn’t drop until late 2008, and they (“they” being a trio back then) released a full-length in 2009 well after the micro-genre they definitely fell into started fading into the background. Though that debut This Is My Shit was far from a great album…way too long and full of same-sounding “loud” dance tracks…it did feature some impressive examples of “blog house” and some forward-thinking, softer tracks anchored by guest vocals provided by similar also-rans Hey Champ and The Shoes. I think if Shit came out in 2008 80kidz would have seen some exposure beyond really dedicated electro-dance blogs.

Jump forward to late 2010. Chillwave has clearly dethroned “blog house” as the indie-approved buzz music of the moment/Hipster Runoff punchline. Justice have been silent. Uffie…well let’s not even start with Uffie. And 80kidz sophomore album Weekend Warrior comes out into a world where the type of fuzzed-out noise they once hoped to be caught up in has become just another textbook paragraph. Before even listening to this album, I wondered how these two could continue making music that, quite frankly, wore out its welcome a very long time ago. I wasn’t just assuming – 80kidz released two EPs and several songs earlier in the year like “Spoiledboy” which featured another quickly-being-forgotten buzz band CSS’ lead singer lending vocals. Not to mention the scary lack of “featuring” spots on the tracklisting, as those songs on Shit stood out as the strongest by a mile. I feared Weekend Warrior would be the equivalent of Weber-Grill-like stomach sporting 40-year-old men trying to relive their college glory days, clinging to ideas best left in the past. Though for 80kidz, that past was only a year ago.

All my caution seemed doomed to become true after Weekend Warrior’s first two tracks wrapped up. Opener “Nautilas” rushes out the gate with all the loud swagger of 2007, running headfirst into the present. Which is to say – it’s a very ho-hum bit of “blog house” that you’ll either embrace for being right up your alley or rejecting for being sorta obnoxious. I fall into the latter – “Nautilas” shows very little depth, sprinting between “loud” and “louder” all the while hoping pure volume makes up for a lack of ideas. The next song, a reworking of the already-released song “Voice,” should probably go down as 80kidzs’ “Robot Rock” what with its guitar-like crunch and robotized voices. And just like the Daft Punk track, this “Voice” sounds totally Recycle-Bin ready. Their sophomore album opens with two songs that almost sum up everything bad about the “blog house” times – they hardly seemed labored over, nondescript “buzzy” dance tracks waiting to be cued up by a DJ at a trendy club night. 80kidz seem to be throwing a party two years too late, and not noticing how nobody came.

Then comes “Red Star,” and it’s like 80kidz finally see nobody at their shindig, deciding to clean up and rearrange the room while they are at it. At this point, Weekend Warrior goes from sure dud to one of 2010’s strongest electronic albums.

Not to say “Red Star” signifies some big jump forward for 80kidz or electronic music in general. In fact, the song still contains traces of the duo’s loud sound and mostly just does away with some of the clutter. Yet what “Red Star” really highlights is a new-found sense of construction and feeling. “Nautilas” and “Voice” sound like songs desperate to stand out, made for the purpose of getting a blog mention…”Red Star” sounds like just a slightly downtrodden dance jam hinting at something more personal, and thank god for that. Most of the praise goes to the keyboard work, which sounds like two siren-like lines coming together at just the right time to give this song a subtle kick, while also knowing to turn the knob towards “really quiet” can’t hurt sometimes. Follow-up number “Prisma” trudges down similarly mellow lanes, moving a pace behind “Red Star” but still equipped with a foot-pushing beat. These two tracks manage to pull off the same sonic feel as all those “featuring” tracks on Shit did but without 80kidz having to rely on someone else to make them good. These two tracks show us a duo finding confidence.

The middle portion of this LP jumps between livelier portions like the ADHD-riddled (in a good way) “Flow With It” and the trill “Agenda” which comes complete with Speak ‘n’ Spell vocals, to more introspective jams in the vein of “Red Star” such as “Czerny 13” and the creepy muffled-sample-ful “I Wish.” Shit lagged frequently, but Weekend Warrior’s middle powers through and rarely sags. Even “Weak Point,” critic bait with a title like that, impresses with some of the wonkiest production 80kidz have displayed yet in their young career. It all leads to the next big breakthrough “Private Beats,” where the Kidz shake off the shackles of “blog house” to embrace a no-gimmicks dance sound. It’s a very glossy production, never giving into ugly sound and even letting the simple vocals samples (“shift,” “control”) go unsludged.

Weekend Warrior’s back-stretch starts to tire a little…at just under an hour, this album still goes on a little long, but at least doesn’t feel like a Texas road trip like Shit could…as 80kidz bank solely on the sad-eyed electronics they wheeled out to great applause earlier. Nothings particularly bad – and the bright-diamond of a song “When You See” hints at an 80kidz capable of producing legitimate J-Pop – just a little tiring without some fun party tracks there to serve as intermission. The album ends triumphantly, though, with the title track, a cut-and-paste rager in the style of protégé Baroque’s “Feel So Good.” Which is – heavy but fun as tapping a keg.

The assumptions you bring to this album most likely will dictate how you feel about it. If you love that Justice-lite sound, you’ll probably be let down. I went into listening to Weekend Warrior expecting disappointment – a shameful critic am I – and instead left being mighty impressed though listening to this album a lot…along with soldiering through Shit once again… has convinced me this isn’t a case of lowered expectations but the doings of a legitimately good album. 80kidz still haven’t gotten the timing down as this album will only generate any buzz in Japan. But they now can lay claim to having made a solid album, something a timeline can’t hide forever.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phaoPEJghuA”]

Found Sound: Masaki Ueda’s Hold You Tonight

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In this infrequent feature, I’ll write about older Japanese albums I’ve come across whether through finding them lodged underneath my bed, on sale for 100 Yen at a local swap meet or discarded in the forest . Today we look at Masaki Ueda’s Hold You Tonight

A glance at Masaki Ueda’s official discography reveals him to be a highly prolific recording artist. He’s been releasing music since the 1970s, unloading a crates-worth of music in every decade since. He’s still going strong…Ueda’s latest album came out just this past May. His web site’s biography also points out he has produced plenty of records, including ones in Korea, and that he even appeared on a famous Indonesian pop star’s song in 2001. It’s a hell of a resume, to say the least and I’m sure Ueda enjoyed every second of it.

Yet venture away from officially-approved corner of the web and information on him quickly dries up. Google gives some videos, a few CD stores, an anime web site and a Linkedin page for some other Masaki Ueda. Then…nothing. J-Pop stars tend to follow two paths: they either get so big and beloved they earn the right to live forever, evidenced by vintage Pink Lady still popping up regularly on TV and SMAP basically being turned into a jeweled sarcophagus before our eyes today. Otherwise, they usually burn out early, chewed up and spit out by the business, doomed to appear on a variety TV show twenty years down the line to join a bunch of comedians heading down the exact same road to laugh at their peak. Ueda managed to dodge both superstardom and one-hit-wonder-hood – he’s an artist who seems like he was pretty well-known at one point, and was able to be consistently good enough to sort of just blend into the middle while still holding onto to some sort of fanbase (I mean, dude has a website).

That’s a little surprising given the cover to his 1984 LP Hold You Tonight, the one Ueda record lurking within my massive pile of found music. It’s an image that someone my age, trained by nearly every bro-mantic comedy and Adult Swim cartoon, instantly laughs at because “the 80s…so ironic!” You can see it at the top – Ueda stands, somewhat awkwardly slumped like a wax dummy slowly melting, front-and-center clutching a saxophone, an instrument not terribly present on the actual songs. It’s begging to be a picture used by FreeDarko without any explanation whatsoever. The back sleeve isn’t much better, a close-up of his sunglasses-wearing face staring off at…something. I’m not even going to dwell on the fact the records split into two halves, the “So Sweet Side” and “Bitter Sweet Side.”

Hold You Tonight’s actual sound mimics the cover, which is to say it’s very much the type of thing you’d expect to hear from any country in 1984. Opener “Power In Your Loving” struts out of the gates with big synthesized drum hits and swirly electronics borrowed from Hall And Oates, before piling on trumpet blasts, a guitar solo, piano and (seriously) keytar. “Power In Your Loving” comes off as especially aged, holding up about as well as a “Where’s The Beef?” commercial, but the rest of this LP certainly wouldn’t be confused with coming out of any generation. Ueda dips his toes in Club Med beach pop, yachtrock, sad-sack balladry and the genre he seems most fond of, R&B.

So this album seems to be prime laugh-track fodder, right? Though Hold You Tonight definitely sounds strange in 2010, it also features plenty of moments easily connected to artists operating today, plus a handful of legitimately great songs. The majority of side A…the “So Sweet Side”…embraces pina-colada beach pop, and Ueda makes the style work for him. Early one-two punch “Water Mind” and “Sailin’ In My Life” feature a few regrettable moments (check the smooth-jazz guitar solo on the latter) but also capture the easy, breezy charm this semi-genre can pull off when done right. “Two On The Beach” moves at an even more relaxed pace than those two tracks, using guitars and crystal-blue keyboards to create a gorgeous blanket of sound for Ueda to sing over (more on that later) with some liberal drum machine nudging things forward. What’s most striking about these songs is how similar to current trends in music they are – Ueda dabbles in the same seaside party sound a handful of Swedish bands soak in. Though I doubt Studio or Boat Club ever gave Hold You Tonight a spin, what Ueda did here didn’t age too badly.

The “Bitter Sweet Side” isn’t nearly as strong, leaving the soft-rock resort to bask in a little trudging balladry before giving itself over completely to plastic-peppy pop. A few moments stand out – the chorus to “My Baby Kicks Up My Heart” sounds especially lively, though also a little bit like a Sea World commercial. And Ueda’s cover of The Temptation’s “My Girl” works in vaguely reggae-ish vibes alongside a great drum-machine bounce, making it a strong rendition of that famous tune and a late album hurrah.

Masaki Ueda’s strongest musical attribute, at least on Hold You Tonight, is his voice. It’s a deep, somewhat raspy croon that works wonders when matched up against laid back music, which this LP mostly is made up of. His vocals even make the slow songs, tracks that otherwise would have been cut-copy slogs, sound more unique, more his own. It’s his singing that, I believe, probably afforded him a long career capable of withstanding album covers like that. It’s strong, very distinct and (as evidenced solely on this record) versatile, well equipped to deal with yachtrock, R&B and goofy new wave.

One of the few Ueda songs you can hear online further hints at it. “Just Dance The Night,” released a year before Hold You Tonight, would simultaneously fit just fine on that LP but also stand-out completely from the other songs. It’s one part Italo Disco, one part Off The Wall-aping R&B. Yet Ueda pulls it off – the same way he can make beach pop, funk or duets with Indonesian superstars work. Hold You Tonight isn’t an essential Japanese listen, but it’s a great way to see just how Masaki Ueda manages to keep chugging along today while hundreds of others have vanished.

Counterpoint: Pitchfork’s Review Of Shugo Tokumaru’s Port Entropy With Our Original Review!

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Shugo Tokumaru’s Port Entropy recently came out in America and Europe, which means Western media who give him any notice will be reviewing his fifth LP in the coming days/weeks. Pitchfork struck first, with writer Jayson Greene kinda slamming Shugo with a 6.2, as he dropped lines like “prolonged exposure to Tokumaru’s flights of fancy grows tiresome at first and then, eventually, slightly creepy.” It’s a big blow to the Japanese artist’s overseas reputation (and most likely sales) considering the Fork is THE “indie” tastemaker.” A real shame, because I think Port Entropy stands as one of 2010’s best Japanese albums and an incredibly solid release in any country that deserves much better than a 6.2.

Of course, I preface everything with the ol’ “everyone is entitled to their opinions, different strokes different folks” disclaimer. That out of the way…I think some of Greene’s criticisms come off as baffling. I’ll cop to just hearing a few things differently…I for one, can definitely enjoy Shugo’s brand of extremely cheery pop for more than 15 minutes…but other lines just seem off. Greene argues that asides from “Laminate” and “Linne,” the songs on this LP are “unrelentingly chipper.” He fails to mention late Entropy cuts “Suisha” and “Orange” which are just as laid-back and “sigh” worthy, especially the latter. His main arguments – “every Tokumaru song expresses the same basic sentiment: in a word, “YAY!!” and “Port Entropy is charming and pretty and brilliantly assembled, but utterly two-dimensional, and listening to it even one time completely through yields strikingly diminished returns” – seem a little lazy. I mean…really? It’s an undeniably upbeat album, yes, but songs like “Rum Hee” and “River Low” are way more complex than how he describes them…errrr doesn’t mention them. Not to get to Pitchfork Reviews Reviews on you (you know?) but this definitely seems like a case where the reviewer just needed to earn his paycheck and didn’t bring much passion to this whole affair. It shows, considering Greene can write excellent reviews…exhibit A…this just isn’t one of them.

So in order to celebrate an album I think deserves praise, you can read my original review of Port Entropy below written in the spring when this LP dropped in Japan. I stick by my main point that America should really embrace this guy, because he isn’t remotely creepy.

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Port Entropy marks a huge moment in the career of Shugo Tokumaru. I don’t mean in America, where the whimsical pop maker’s fourth album will likely see release sometime in 2011, leading to every review of said LP to rightfully bemoan his ignored status in the States…though, Pitchfork, just bless him with a “Best New Music” label and he’ll be a hundred times better off than before. No, the album with the cute drawings above serves as Tokumaru’s big breakout moment only in his native Japan, following the momentum gained by his excellent 2007 release Exit. Just look at all this anecdotal evidence I have! Port Entropy has racked up several big stories in music magazine here and nabbed prominent shelf placement at Tower Records. His upcoming tour is basically sold out…if you got extra tickets for the Osaka or Nagoya show hit up my e-mail ASAP. And, most tellingly, track two of his latest release “Tracking Elevator” plays regularly at my local Lawson’s Convenience Store. Considering they usually just play Arashi and Taylor Swift, this means something big.

All these signs of sudden success would seem to hint at Tokumaru reeling in his frantic pop experimentalism for Port Entropy. Replace his storage-room worth of instruments with sleek J-Pop production, sing a ballad, soundtrack a CC Lemon advert. Poof, Music Station time. So…surprise surprise…Shugo’s latest shocks not because of any sudden shifts towards a more accepted sound, but because it remains 100 percent Shugo. Port Entropy follows closely in the stylistic footsteps of Exit, slightly less manic at times but continuing Tokumaru’s excellent streak of intricately joyful pop.

Craig Eley of Cokemachineglow described Shugo’s ultimate strength so well in his review of Exit I won’t even bother trying to paraphrase it and just slap his quote down: “Listening to Shugo is like watching a foreign film with the subtitles off. You can’t “know” what’s being said…but you can “understand” what’s happening. You can feel. And at the end, you can say ‘that was delirious and beautiful and fun.'” Port Entropy continues Tokumaru’s tradition of making music rich in “feel,” best showcased in the album’s first four proper tracks. Following an intro fit for the Country Bear Jamboree House, “Tracking Elevator” opens with some simple guitar strumming and singing before suddenly transforming into a theme park parade where all the costumed characters twirl down main street. Voices join Shugo, who sounds like he’s singing “drunk in my lemon car” but probably isn’t . Doesn’t matter what words actually come out of his mouth…”Tracking Elevator” exudes pure feel-good vibes.

“Linne” comes after “Tracking Elevator” and shifts the album into more downtrodden territory. For the majority of the song’s run, it’s just some sentimental-tinged piano strokes and Shugo’s voice. “Linne” is the most melancholy song Tokumaru’s done since his L.S.T. days, but as the smatterings of horns and wordless voices hints at, also having an edge of hopefulness to it. This all leads to Port Entropy’s most ecstatic sequence, the one-two lawn sprinkler shot of “Lahaha” and “Rum Hee.” “Lahaha” sprinkles twinkly bells and some kiddy flute over a marching guitar strum as Shugo sings himself towards the delirious chorus, basically just the song’s title let out like he’s having the most fun on a merry-go-round ever. The previously released “Rum Hee” piles Tokumaru’s trademark playroom instrumentation onto one of the best choruses he’s ever penned, and Port Entropy’s most dizzying high. This song sequence not only stands as one of his finest recorded runs yet, but also as some of the most directly happy music…yeah, even “Linne”…of the year.

The rest of Port Entropy boasts plenty of charm as well, even if it’s not quite as intoxicating as the opening salvo. “Straw” comes closest to capturing the album’s initial joy-blast late in its run time, not to mention the direct descendant of “Parachute,” all speedy strumming outlined with gleeful instrumental touches. “Drive-Thru” takes early Beatles pop and twists it for Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, while “Orange” finds Shugo at his most relaxed pace, letting the track slowly unfold in front of samples of chirping birds and accordion drone. Closer “Malerina’s” ukulele driven rhythm finds Tokumaru dabbling in surf music, even managing to squeeze in some The Endless Summer “ooooh-oooohing” at the end. Port Entropy doesn’t really feature any obvious miscues and like his previous outings, wraps up in good time.

For all I know, Shugo Tokumaru’s actually been a household name in Japan since 2007 and drunk salarymen across the country belt out “Button” at post-drinking-party karaoke. I have my doubts though, which means Port Entropy will be the album that sees the pop tinkerer make his biggest leaps in the Japanese mainstream yet. Which is kind of incredible, because it’s neither a massive leap forward for his music or a sell-out moment…it’s another charming and enchanting Shugo record full of literal bells and whistles and an excellent ear for harmonies. I guess if you do something really well long enough, someone will notice you. So…can America get on this next?

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8hfgWg6eiLs”]