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Review: Canopies And Drapes’ And Putting Love Away

And Putting Love Away, the new EP from Tokyo’s Canopies And Drapes, takes its name from a line in Emily Dickinson’s poem “The Bustle In A House.” That work, a brief eight-line poem, deals with grieving following a death, ending with the lines “And putting Love away/We shall not want to use again/Until Eternity -.” Canopies And Drapes has the same thoughts on her mind, the three new tracks on this cassette focusing on lost love, and specifically where that feeling goes in the wake of the rupture. And Putting Love Away serves as a grim counterpart to last year’s Violet Lilly Rose Daisy, an EP which mostly focused on wants, of being consumed by the thought of another. Here’s what remains on the other side.

The subject matter isn’t the only aspect of Canopies And Drapes’ work that goes under a change on And Putting Love Away. Last year’s debut loaded up on dreamy synths and put an emphasis on CaD’s lyrics (especially lyric-book highlights “Live In The Snowglobe” and “Perfect Step”). Now, whether because she’s limited by the sonic capabilities of a cassette tape or just sonically restless, CaD’s is more concerned with minimalism and how her words sound. And Putting Love Away is a somewhat surprising change of pace for the young Tokyo artist, but one just as inviting and shady as her previous output.

Opener “The Door Into Summer” introduces us to CaD’s new approach, the twinkling overload of “Sleeping Under The Bed” replaced by bare-bones keyboard, some guitar and a nursery-rhyme-worthy beat. This stripped-down approach to songwriting places the emphasis on the vocals, and CaD’s voice rises to the challenge. The actual lyrics have become simpler than anything on Violet Lilly Rose Daisy – on “The Door,” she sings “how could I forget?/how could I help?/I still love you,” but the way those words are delivered fills them with emotional detail far more intriguing than anything a thesaurus could inspire. She draws out the first two lines, and then delivers the “I still love you” part so bluntly it sounds like she’s peaking out from a corner. Like her previous work, “The Door” boasts a strange unease, but this time it’s brought about by how minimal the song sounds. Something about its simplicity seems deceiving, so you play it again and again.

“Dead End” goes into similar eerie territory, chilly minimalism that leads way to cheesy – but still skin-crawling – horror-movie synths which bridge into the main part of the song, where CaD’s vocals practically run together to form a warm cloud of singing, the word themselves playing second fiddle to how everything blurs together. The other song, “Solaris,” chooses to be a little louder and its appeal lies in the sonic tension of the track, the claustrophobic instrumentation grinding against the sweetly sung lyrics (with a heck of a payoff too). The words are some of the least interesting CaD has penned to date, but again she’s learned how to deliver them in such a way so that a classic cliché like “there are millions of fish in the sea” becomes a sentence rich in loneliness and despair.

And Putting Love Away also comes with two remixes which don’t really add much following the excitement of the CaD songs. Moscow Club’s remix of “Solaris” is pretty typical remix fare (more electronics, basically) while Orland’s take of “Dead End” is less a remix and more of a sales pitch for Orland. If you like talk boxes and talking about how wacky the 80s were, here you go. If you like music that respects emotion, well………..

And really, that’s what is most impressive about And Putting Love Away and CaD’s musical output thus far – she’s constantly finding new ways of expressing complicated feelings, stuff way beyond “I love you” and “you don’t love me.” Last year she proved she could do that with short-story-like attention to detail, and on this release she shows she can ring the same feeling from just her sounds. Buy from here.

Live Review: The Brixton Academy, Canopies And Drapes, The Telephones, Orland And Hotel Mexico At Shibuya Womb January 28 2012

Booze has always been prevalent when I’ve seen The Brixton Academy live, the band popping open bottles of Champagne to share with the crowd or downing shots post-set. Yet their January 28 show at Shibuya’s Womb – which, for the uninformed, is the place those deaf kids make out in the film Babel – was soaked in more alcohol than usual. Seeing every member of the group pop open a bottle of bubbly, corks comically smacking into Womb’s extravagant disco ball, or the band’s guitarist drunkenly spank away at his bongos seemed appropriate given that this was the final stop on their Bright As Diamonds tour, one last gig in front of a hometown crowd.

Yet this sea of liquor flowed because this turned out to be the final Brixton Academy show featuring the band’s current incarnation – the group announced midway through that this show would be there last, to a girl-heavy wave of shock. Although a three-person version of the group will play a show in March, post that the members will remain in music, but in what form they don’t know. With this news, though, a typically drunk Saturday show turned into one last hurrah for one of the best live groups in Japan today.

This impromptu finale boasted a pretty great undercard, too. Kyoto chillwavers Hotel Mexico opened everything up with a whirling set that came with an appropriate light show. Live…and blessed by Womb’s tip-top sound system…the group sounds bigger live, a song like “Dear Les Friends” even stronger than in recorded form. Nagoya’s Orland followed, a mess of 80’s synths tripping over one another to create deliberately nostalgic dance music (the fact half of the original Tron played out behind them drove the point home – we are Orland, and we love the 80s). The group is fine, but sharing a bill with similar-sounding Brixton Academy exposes their biggest weakness – whereas Brixton place earnest words over their New Wave hodgepodge and come off as almost embarrassingly sincere, Orland just sound like the music you sometimes hear in a Tim And Eric sketch.

The Telephones, out of place on this bill both in terms of sound and popularity, gesticulated all over the stage next, an endless barrage of aggressive rock guitar, shouting and posing. The group is undeniably energetic, as evidenced by the sort of crowd I would have loved to be in the middle of when I was 19. Yet, as a cynical 20-something, I heard a group with buckets of energy and like three song blueprints done over and over again. Canopies And Drapes came next, joined by several members of The Brixton Academy. When I saw her in Nagoya in November, her set surprised me because she (and Brixton) were able to turn three-fourths of her dreamy music into something funky. That Nagoya show was great – her set at Womb, not quite as memorable. Opening with her two weakest live numbers (the shoegazey “Stars In Bloom” and “Live In The Snow Globe,” the one instance where injecting funk into a song detracts from it, as “Snow Globe” is a lyrical wonder), things got better with the jaunty “Perfect Step,” and she has a great set closer with “Sleeping Under The Bed” which, moment of honesty, I have yet to get sick of.

Yet this Saturday night belonged to The Brixton Academy. At this point, I’ve seen them three times in the past three months, and their show barely changes each time – they open with the bongo-assisted “Neons Bright” from last year’s Bright As Diamonds before diving into the best cuts from that LP and their debut Vivid, with the long-burning “Nightclub” popping up near the end of the set. Yet despite knowing what to expect, Brixton Academy’s skill and energy turns what should have been choreography by now into a still-captivating show. “In My Arms” remains delirious, ”Youth” still demands fists pumped into the sky and “So Shy” remains a slice of triumphant sadness.

This wasn’t just another (great) Brixton Academy show, though, but a surprise finale. Once the sounds of shock faded, the remaining songs seemed more urgent, imbued with something special that words can’t really capture (uhhhh you had to be there?). They dusted off older songs I hadn’t heard at the previous two shows – they broke out songs I’ve never heard period – and gave the crowd what they wanted. Corks flew, an encore happened and then they left the stage for the last time.

So what’s The Brixton Academy’s legacy? Two albums ranging from “pretty good” to “great,” an EP and some singles, not to mention an incredible live show. Vivid, their debut, stands with any 80s-aping album of the last half of the decade, while we named “So Shy” the best song of 2010 and stick by it fully. They did pretty decently for a band their size in Japan, but The Brixton Academy always struck me as a group that could have gotten a lot of looks from the West too, given the 80’s sound and earnestness. Yet they never really did, unfortunately, but leave behind a great collection of music and, for me personally, great memories of wildin’ out at a tiny Nagoya club. They deserved those drink for sure Saturday night.

Hey, someone uploaded a video of the band playing “So Shy” at this even!

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

Make Believe Melodies’ Top 30 Japanese Albums Of 2011: 20-11

20. Kido Yoji Call A Romance

On his debut release, Kido Yoji makes dance music for people who like spending significant amounts of time staring out on bright0lit cityscapes. Call A Romance certainly moves – check the easy-breezy disco shake of the title track, or the irresistible pop of “Hot And Cold” – but beneath the night-out-worthy sounds beats a particularly sensitive heart. Yoji jumps between ennui – the heavy-eyed opener “AM 3:33” – and longing – the talk-box powered “More Than Real,” which makes a strong bid for best robot slow jam since Daft Punk’s Discovery. Catchy and heartbreaking all at once, can’t wait to see what comes next.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gr8427hmplw”]

19. Friends Let’s Get Together Again

There are so many angles one could take when discussing this album it almost demands an essay. Like, Friends’ sound, which takes beach-pop and covers it in layers of feedback, a sort of lo-fi approach one often loves or hates well before they even here the record. Or how the band approaches nostalgia, a prickly subject in a year that gave us Retromania? You could also spend paragraphs debating whether Friends even need all that feedback…is it a vital aspect, or just a stylistic distraction from the pretty pop underneath? Heck, take this at an extremely surface level and just focus on the band name, a moniker the group has announced they will change in 2011 (and now we know that name…Teen Runnings) and zero in on how the Japanese Friends couldn’t out-hype American-based Friends and what that says about Japanese indie music.

To discuss why Let’s Get Together Again lands here, though, I have to ignore all those talking points and just get a little personal. When Second Royal Records first posted the album online here, I wasn’t blown away. I like Friends’ approach to pop, but initially this release didn’t floor me like I thought it could. Yet I stuck with it and Let’s Get Together Again grew on me, the snow-cone delicious melodies lurking beneath the noise hooking me in (check the sweat-soaked wonder of “Since I Made A Mistake” or the chilling intro to “Our Love Is True”). At this point I though “OK, #30 on the list.” Yet time revealed another layer to this album that struck me even harder than the pure-pop pleasure Friends can pump out. Not to get all New Yorker on you, but it’s important to remember this is past-obsessed music being made my a 20-something in 2011, an extremely turbulent time for people like Friends’ head honcho Syouta Kaneko. Or, cough, me. The noise cutting through all the prettiness is essential to me because that sounds like the present, slicing through these Brian Wilson inspired fantasies. I once wrote the lyrics to any Friends’ song weren’t important – I’ve flip-flopped on that now, because the lyrics Kaneko has made available shed new light on the album. Check the words of “When I’m Asleep,” which focus on choosing the girls one conjures up in dreams as opposed to the ones in the real world, made current-events worthy with a line about one’s mom asking when they are getting married. Let’s Get Together Again is an album about wanting to be away from the present, possibly transported to times one was better made for, but with the world of today reminding you that just can’t happen. Ultimately, I can relate to that feeling, which is why this album jumps up in the rankings and I’m looking forward to what comes next, regardless of what the group is named.

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18. Boris New Album

In a year where a bunch of J-Pop acts crafted strong artistic statements worthy of praise, long-time critical darlings Boris went the other way. The trio, best know for loud droning rock music and an intimidating discography to swim through, teamed up with a subsidiary of J-Pop mainstream label Avex and made their most accessible album to date. New Album isn’t Boris morphing into Porno Graffiti, the band retaining the metal and experimental tendencies that to now has defined their existence. Yet, whether because they were getting bored or wanted to take the piss out of something or they just wanted some of that J-Rock money, New Album features two songs that could easily be rejiggered into singles for Dracula-knuckleheads VAMPS (“Flare” and “Black Original”) and an honest-to-goodness ballad in the form of “Pardon?” Most surprising of all is how well Boris pull off this look – that ballad trumps the majority of schlocky trash on the Oricon charts, while Album highlight “Hope” easily hangs with any of the year’s best J-Rock tracks. Boris have always been a group eager to try out new sounds, but nobody saw something like New Album coming…or how good they sound doing it.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVJ0YVkOAaA”]

17. Sapphire Slows True Breath

The most buzzed-about sound from Japan in 2011 was the shadowy, dreamy dance music hovering out of Tokyo like fog. The CUZ ME PAIN label came to be most associated with this style, but it looks like 2012 will be the year the projects in that stable get serious with albums. Instead, non-PAIN act Sapphire Slows released a brief album on American label Not Not Fun serving as an excellent introduction to Tokyo’s dimly lit scene and a strong statement all its own. Standout number “Spin Lights Over You” could be Slows’ business card, a simplistic club strut surrounded by vapor-light vocals and dizzying synths . Elsewhere, “Cosmo Cities” swelters while “Green Flash Mob” vamps by on particularly bright keyboards while a voice creeps around the edges. It’s unsettling but ultimately irresistible, like getting an invitation to dance from one of the Super Mario Brothers ghosts.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IbqQYlCYy5U”]

16. Her Ghost Friend Her Ghost Friend

DJ Obake always struck me as an odd musician, a guy capable of a straight-up catchy dance number one day but check in like a week later and he would suddenly have some avant track full of wacky touches up on his MySpace. This versatility manifests itself in the Her Ghost Friend project, a collaboration between Obake and Shinobu Ono, who handles vocals and also designed the cutesy album art you see on the side. Her Ghost Friend drifts through mostly poppy terrain, Obake setting his synths on a level so bright it would make a Ghibli animator think twice while Ono coos over the twinkling soundscape. The Her Ghost Friend album is above all a very colorful album, Obake’s flurry of synths complimented by graceful string sections and chirping video game noises. Yet this isn’t pure cotton candy – Her Ghost Friend flashes bits of Obake’s stranger side, like how several songs here see Ono skip singing in favor of just talking or how some of the instrumental tracks, loaded with spacey satellite transmission sounds, could have served as an opening theme to a 1950’s sci-fi show. Her Ghost Friend is a great display of Obake’s abilities, from his ear for catchiness to his more adventurous leanings.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEo-5wrPJFw”]

15. She Talks Silence Some Small Gifts

Here’s the only album where I’ll say “just read my original review” because if I chucked up any words in this spot trying to touch on how this mini-album touches the emotions, I’d just be control-v-ing. So, in brief – She Talks Silence’s follow-up to 2010’s lonely masterstroke Noise & Novels finds the once-solo project grow into a duo, the overall sonic quality upped oh-so-slightly. The sound mostly remains true to our previous list topper, indie-pop diagrams designed by minds cloud by melancholy and Lynched-up with, appropriately, some small details. This is where the emotional stuff would start flowing, but just hit the hyperlink and I’ll sum it up by saying Some Small Gifts gives us more of the same She Talks Silence…which is very welcome considering how great that is. Oh, and “Some Small Gift” is the best tune they’ve penned to date.

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

Cherryboy Function Suggested Function EP #2

I’ve always had an uneasy relationship with nightclubs. Growing up in the middle of a desert (population: 10,000. Happening spot: Jack In The Box), I didn’t even see a proper concert until college let alone sneak off and spend a wild evening trying to sneak into a club. When I finally shipped off to university and found myself in Chicago, a whole new universe of nightlife options appeared before me…yet, once the initial giddiness wore off, I found myself finding annoying points. Sometimes the music being spun wasn’t really for me, and sometimes expressing this fact to friends resulted in nearby strangers loudly saying how fucking pretentious I was (this really happened, and pretty much ruined Chicago clubs for me). Sometimes in Japan, I’d go out for the night and sorta sour on the event…only to realize no more trains were running home and I was stuck until six the next morning. Most likely I’m just not much fun, but I always picture nights on the town as magical, woozy, drunken times, not exercises in killing time.

Basically, I wish going to a night club mirrored Suggested Function EP #2. Cherryboy Function crafted five delirious, rum-soaked dance songs here that are club triumphs, both because of Function’s professional attention to detail and because they just sound insanely fun. Like how “Distopia” opens with this pass-me-a-drink vibe that feels like seeing an elevator door open up to reveal a great party already bumping, or how the cowbell smacking of “Plan E” sounds like it wouldn’t be complete without shots of tequila. And this stuff does work in a live setting. I heard dizzying EP highlight “Pulse Of Change” between sets of a concert late in 2011, and tipsly danced without fear of missed transit or assholish reprimand from bearded jerk. Suggested Function is a perfect night out reduced into a sonic medium, these five tracks nailing the initial thrill of stepping out into the night to the drunken leg moving to the off-balance walk home.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NmJnFap9l7g”]

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aoM9-R9iKPw”]

13. Perfume JPN

REVIEW OF JPN PART 2: THE ONE THAT BRINGS IN EVERYTHING

“With Perfume, before I even start work on a song, it is already assigned to a certain commercial, so it’s all about getting a single idea or hook that stands out, whereas capsule’s music is more complex and part of the fun is in finding new sounds every time, or how different people can hear different sounds whilst listening to it.”

Yasutaka Nakata, the mind behind Perfume and Capsule, talking about the differences between the projects in The Japan Times.

Yeah, that’s all nice and good Nakata, bracing for the inevitable backlash against JPN by blaming THE MAN. Here’s the thing though – Nakata NEEDS the commercial pressure of Perfume applied to him to bring out his best, and it’s the reason JPN succeeds. I’ve already laid out why Perfume’s latest sounds good to me, but one interesting development has come along since that review…I’m liking JPN a lot more now. This album still dominates my iPod time, and even the singles that were monopolizing my time in 2010 continue to captivate me. This isn’t the best Perfume album, but I’m starting to think it might be a solid silver medalist.

Yet some people hate this album and what Perfume have become, and look everyone gets an opinion blah blah blah, but some of the reasons for dismissing JPN strike me as silly. Mainly, those not fond of this album frequently mention the same thing Nakata highlighted in that top quote – the advertising ties. I’ve seen Tweets call this album a collection of “advertising jingles” while even Ian Martin’s otherwise good review takes time to talk about the Kirin connections. This post – written long before JPN, but about the “fall” of Perfume – seems almost obsessed with Perfume’s marketing ties, from the Cars 2 appearance to something about how new Perfume tracks don’t have good sci-fi names. Look, I love reading Neojaponisme too, but judging music shouldn’t involve what ads the band has appeared in or what Pixar movie they lent a song to or what the song titles are…it should focus on the music.

And when I focus on just the sound, I hear another colorful pop album from a trio that might be as prevalent in commercials as the Aflac duck but a group still ahead of the J-Pop curve. I also hear Nakata, seemingly over the restrictions placed on him by Perfume’s status, accidentally making some of his best music yet. In that top quote, the part where he mentions Capsule also implies he’s talking about World Of Fantasy, an album that most people who didn’t like JPN loved…but one that I personally didn’t like at all. Sometimes being “complex” can be a burden…and as for “finding new sounds,” Nakata might want to revisit some blogs circa 2008…and the simplicity of pop music (“make something catchy”) trumps what World Of Fantasy tries to do (“be catchy AND cool”). In the intro to “Glitter” alone I hear more ecstasy than I do anywhere on that Capsule album. As much as Nakata wants to distance himself from it, the restrains of Perfume bring out the best in him, and make JPN a stellar release regardless of how many cell phone ads the songs on it appeared.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R-fu2jHvrw”]

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18grnTXq7mc”]

12. Canopies And Drapes Violet, Lilly, Rose, Daisy

The break-up of Tokyo’s Nu Clear Classmate back in July was a sad moment. The under-heralded duo gave the world one superb EP in 2010’s Lick The Star – a release that in retrospect was a top ten album that year – and seemed capable of even greater art. Yet the project ended after a live show in their native city this past summer, and that was that. Sometimes cliches can be true though, and opportunity can arise from bad news. Out of the ashes of that group came Canopies And Drapes, the solo project of Classmate lead singer Chick, and eventually the EP Violet, Lilly, Rose, Daisy. Her excellent debut establishes her as an exciting young face in the Tokyo scene, one taking cues from her previous project but unafraid of new directions.

Nu Clear Classmate treated emotion like black and white, their songs either sounding extremely happy or crushingly depressed. Canopies And Drapes approaches them with subtlety, though, the best songs on Violet almost coming off as short stories. “Sleeping Under The Bed,” backed by a dreamy pulse reminiscent of Grimes, tells a story fluxuating between devotion and longing, ending with a slightly sad line leading to vagueness. The jittery “Perfect Step” is a lovely character sketch, while “Live In The Snow Globe” tells a story of unrequited love peppered with details about eating french fries at McDonald’s and discussing Snoopy. As our narrator discusses her “sickness” and reveals her wish to live with him in a snow globe forever, the music matches the mood and features a climax worthy of Banana Yoshimoto. Violet carries on the emotional tugging Nu Clear Classmate were so good at, but does it in an understated, almost literary way. Bands and artists can close up shop at anytime, but here’s to hoping Canopies And Drapes sticks around a while.

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11. Nuxx Lettre Mois

Sorry to get a little sappy, but it has been nice watching Osaka’s Nuxx grow up right before my eyes. When I first arrived in Japan, I had this habit of choosing random concerts featuring only Japanese bands to go to, and one night I ended up seeing a trio called Bang Bang Balloon who blew me away with their fusion of club-ready beats and Perfume-esque pop chops. They eventually renamed themselves Nuxx, released a very good debut and this year dropped Lettre Mois, their best work to date. Prior to it, Nuxx mostly dealt in huge, singles-worthy pop hooks, which sounded phenomenal but also sometimes made the surrounding songs on their releases pale in comparison. With Lettre Mois, Nuxx have crafted a consistently great album, one featuring few sags to the point this almost feels like a well put-together DJ mix of Nuxx tracks rather than a proper release. The group haven’t lost their knack for crazy catchy moments – “Born To Walk” has a little of “Journey To The West’s” DNA in it, while “Ring Of Pop” lands on a shortlist of best Nuxx song yet – but now those moments aren’t left towering above the rest. Everything else either keeps the frantic floor-worthy pace going or slows thing down just enough to feel like a breather (the blinking “Stereotype”). Nuxx even turn “Happy Birthday” into a banger on “Your Day,” one of the most surprising musical feats of 2011. That’s almost impressive as them putting together this album, a stride forward for them and one of the year’s finest.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6Qzaxd224c”]

Make Believe Melodies’ Top 50 Japanese Songs Of 2011: 10-01

10. Avec Avec “Kuzuha No Sunday”

I’ve been told the Kansai region of Japan has always had an electronic music scene. Yet 2011 felt like a beginning, or at the very least a boom, for forward-thinking electronic sounds. Gravitating around several labels and events, artists like Madegg, Seiho and And Vice Versa started flooding SoundClound with tunes you’d expect from Los Angeles’ Brainfeeder label, if not other more buzzed-about cities. Yet out they poured, if not a big bang at least a thrilling development for a part of Japan often shivering in big brother Tokyo’s shadow.

Plenty of worthy tunes from any number of Kansai-based producers could have repped the region in this spot, but Avec Avec’s “Kuzuha No Sunday” lands it because nothing from the area sounded brighter or more joyous. The song drips with warmth, from the easy-breezy weekend stroll of a beat to those synths which sound laid back enough to put off all chores to watch just one more football game. Yet the honey binding “Kuzuha No Sunday” is that glitchey vocal sample, Avec transforming singing into sunbeams. The “Kuzuha” in “Kuzuha No Sunday” refers to the town Avec calls home, a not particularly thrilling destination if Wikipedia is to be trusted. Yet if this song is any proof, there isn’t any other place he’d rather be on a lovely weekend afternoon, located in a place way more interesting than it seems.

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/19625556″]

9. Perfume “Spice”

There is a moment late in “Spice” where one of the members of Perfume slips free from the vocal-effects software roped around her neck to sing in her natural, human voice. It’s not the first time this has happened, but it serves as the climax for “Spice” and in that slot feels bigger than it should, a member of a group often accused of being nothing more than dancing computer software emerging into the world all Weird Science style. This doesn’t last long, the group soon returning to the digital filters that probably feel like indoor slippers to them. But for those few seconds it’s a great touch in a track filled with them.

Many accused Yatsukata Nakata of phoning his production duties for Perfume this year, and Nakata himself didn’t help when he told The Japan Times the commercial obligations of the trio put him in a creative headlock. Yet as much as the three women serving as the figureheads need Nakata’s sounds to bring them to life, he needs that pop pressure present to force him to make music not focused on being in any cool kid’s club (spoiler: World Of Fantasy didn’t sniff the albums list). Hopefully Nakata knows what a good job he did with “Spice,” an honest-to-goodness departure for Perfume that moves just a little slower and packs in so many swoon-worthy details (the bloops! The out-of-step beats! The way he turns voices into columns of light!). If “Spice” sounds like something Nakata could do in sleep compared to his (often needlessly!) complicated Capsule work, tailored for the chu-hi purchasing masses, it probably is because it is but thank goodness for that because “Spice” should be for everyone. And like that voice rising above everything else late in the song, “Spice” finds Perfume as human after all.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R-fu2jHvrw”]

8. Moscow Club “Daisy Miller Part 1” and “Daisy Miller Part 2”

In Henry James’ short story “Daisy Miller,” the author devotes his time to detailing the lives of Americans living abroad in Europe, watching them often hilariously try to fit in – or do their best not to – in ways that hit way to close to home for an American living in another county like me in 2011. It’s a smartly written and often funny story, but something tells me Moscow Club weren’t aiming to poke fun at Americans throwing parties in Italy. With this pair of songs named after the story, they zeroed in on the other aspect of “Daisy Miller” that stuck with me – the way romance (and life) often gets lost in the shuffle, how just coming out and saying you like someone proves to be insanely difficult and the often devastating results of waiting too long to make those feelings known.

And yeah, it’s kind of cheating to put two songs in this one spot, but these tracks belong together, Moscow Club practically writing them to work as a short story of their own. “Part 1” exists as a daydream, any percussion left out in favor of smoky guitar playing and near-unintelligible singing. Chick from Canopies And Drapes shows up to serve as the backup singer, her beautiful additions making the song feel even more like a particularly bittersweet memory. “Part 1” reminds me a bit more of James’ work overall, the lightness of the whole thing lending it the feel of nostalgia, one undercut by a nagging sadness, just like the gut-punch of a tragedy that befalls the main characters in “Daisy Miller.”

Yet Moscow Club gave us a “Part 2.” Opening with a guitar line that feels like it enters the picture upon the end of “Part 1.” It sounds more of the moment, joined by a little percussion, as if the cloudiness of the last song is suddenly clearing and the person our heart pines after suddenly stands where all that fog used to be. Then the song barrels ahead, the year’s best indie-pop song. Its just “Part 1” played faster, but Moscow Club knock it out of the park and give us the same advice James did– regret sucks, so don’t mess up now.

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/19226919″]

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/20617773″]

7. Salyu X Salyu “Muse’ic”

Yes, the title is a pun, but one delivered with the emotion of a Best Actor monologue. It helps to understand where Salyu the artist came from – she’s been in the J-Pop eye for a long time now, showing flashes of brilliance you expect from Bjork rather than the force keeping SMAP a major player. She also has a magnificent singing voice. Yet for most of her career she’s been locked down doing middle-of-the-road pop, those moments that drop jaws only reinforcing the idea all the other music she records sounds like a waste. This year, though, she got her chance to pursue artier dreams thanks to a collaboration with producer Cornelius, resulting in the Salyu X Salyu project.

“Muse’ic” sounds less like a song and more like a rebirth, music giving Salyu the freedom she clearly craved over the years. She returns the favor by shouting the praises of music, spending the duration spilling her love for musical art all over Cornelius’ sonic canvas. She splits herself into many Salyus, each one raising angelically to the heavens to proclaim her undying passion for “the melody, rhythm, harmonnnnnnnny.” The part that gives me the coldest chills, though, remains a bit late in the song where the ecstatic congregation of Salyus hushes for a moment and Cornelius skinnies-up his production as the one, musically rebaptized Salyu falls to her knees and whispers “fill me” to her muse, a covenant formed. Music set Salyu free in 2011, and she took the chance to write the song most in love with music over the past year.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=65r830HQFRg”]

6. Merpeoples “Ikenai Rouge Magic”

Imawano Kyosiro and Ryuuichi Sakamoto originally wrote “Ikenai Rouge Magic” in 1982. Almost 20 years later, Tokyo’s Merpeoples covered the song and were able to make it their own. How they did it? By simply out-giddying Kyosiro and Sakamoto, and ultimately everything in Merpeople’s own back catalog. On “Rouge Magic” Merpepoles made a huge artistic leap forward by embracing lightness, all bongos and synths and guitars bouncing around like superballs. They had to turn to the past to find it, but with “Rouge Magic” Merpeoples discovered their true identity.

While we are here, let’s talk about the video which captures one of the most exciting music scenes in Tokyo. The clip starts inside the Violet And Claire store that serves as a base for the Twee Grrrls Club. Then the band whizzes through the streets of Shibuya and arrives at Club Echo, where Merpeoples meet up with Love And Hates (HNC and Moe from Miila And The Geeks), Sumire Twee and the drummer from Miila And The Geeks. There, they toast, presumably to one of the brightest young music scenes in Japan today.

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

5. Jesse Ruins “Dream Analysis”

Tokyo remains one of the most fascinating cities on Earth to millions of people because it’s a buzzing, sprawling mystery. Western movies often paint the metropolis as a neon-lit maze that’s practically impossible to properly finish – see the language-hindered hijinks of Lost In Translation or the brain-spinning rush of Enter The Void. Hell, Tokyo Drift even just seemed to focus mostly on cars. Living in Osaka but traveling to Tokyo infrequently, I still picture it as a giant train map where people go from a small Point A to a bunch of slightly bigger points scattered all over the grid, eventually returning to Point A and a shrouded private life. The music of CUZ ME PAIN has served as a sort of sonic SparkNotes for this impression – a series producers caught up in the concrete river turning their Point A – a Point A which is a cramped apartment in a low-rent area, I imagine – to make music both danceable and drowned in emotion.

This year ended up being a breakout one for the label, and no project within the group saw their stock soar like Jesse Ruins. If I had to guess why, I’d say it’s because of “Dream Analysis,” the best CUZ ME PAIN related release of 2011 and an overall gorgeous track that seems at least partially inspired by life in Tokyo. “Dream Analysis” carries many familiar names in its sonic DNA – M83, New Order –and the Jesse Ruins’ project stems from a long stretch as a DJ, so the brain behind this knows to make this kick around a bit. Yet then enters CUZ ME PAIN’s special touch, the haunted vocal sample. What makes “Dream Analysis” a touch above everything else, though, is how this ghostly voice sounds hopeful despite sounding like lost soul, the synth bursts flaring up like she knows not to give up. Jesse Ruins adds a touch of creepiness with a second, troll-like voice lurking underneath, but this is ultimately head-lifted-high number. As a particularly optimistic bit of keyboard carries us out in the last 30 seconds, it almost feels like Jesse Ruins has expressed why him and a million other people keep going from Point A to other points finally back home.

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

4. Canopies And Drapes “Sleeping Under The Bed”

“Sleeping Under The Bed” began life in early 2011 as “Sleeping Under The Maypole,” by Nu Clear Classmate and at the time nobody knew the song would end up being Classmate’s last and end up on the debut EP of Classmate singer Chick’s Canopies And Drapes project. When it first dropped, it sounded like a bit of departure for Classmate, the guitar-charged pop of last year’s superb Lick The Star dialed down in favor of chilly minimalism and a sprinkling of funk. Yet even in February, the song showcased the same emotional impact found in Nu Clear Classmate’s previous work, the sonic starkness not a stand in for feelings.

But it wasn’t until the song was re-christened “Sleeping Under The Bed” and released on Canopies And Drapes October EP did that emotional weight really sink in. The chief difference between Nu Clear Classmate and Canopies And Drapes is the vocals…Classmate treated them as just another sound, the actual words not as important as the feeling conjured up by the sound. With Canopies, the lyrics turn out to be vital, wisely pushed up in the mix because “Sleeping” deals with subtlety. Over a dreamy synth swirl that feels like a splash of Novocaine, we get what at first sounds like a love story that might have a happy ending. “When my fingers touch his hands/my heart melts like ice cream,” Chick sings with a delivery that sounds like Rainbow Sherbert sliding down the cone. She goes on to quote Karen Carpenter as if to put the bow on her happiness, but cracks break through. “He breathes in deeply and sets fire to a cigarette/he kisses it before he kisses me” she observes, before ending on the especially maudlin line “Where should I go/I got lost.” Canopies And Drapes made the end of Nu Clear Classmate a little easier to take, and with “Sleeping Under The Bed” we get something tinged by what once was while mostly raising spirits for what will come next.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A5usNqIjHTc”]

3. HNC “I Dream I Dead”

Recently I came down with a fever that was easily the most intense I’ve ever felt in my relatively young life. Turns out flying across the Pacific Ocean while having the flu doesn’t lead to good health. Seven hours after hitting the tarmac I found myself staring at a hotel ceiling as my skin poured out sweat like I had just played a basketball game. I never overdramatized the situation, but there were brief moments where I thought this was way worse than it was, the sort of illness requiring more than some Nyquill to get through.

HNC’s “I Dream I Dead” captures the feeling of the day after a bad fever or a particularly life-like nightmare, when everything appears just out of step, the lingering jitters of the night before bleeding over into everyday life. Musically, it was a big shock hearing HNC, who over the course of her career mostly recorded cutsey pop like this or the cat-heavy stuff that popped up on 2009 album Cult, suddenly creating something deeply paranoid and creepy. Even more surprising was how good she sounded doing it, as if years of focusing on all things bright and chirpy allowed her time to soak in the rusted underside and manifest it into “I Dream I Dead.” Touches of HNC’s twee leanings sneak in, mostly via bell chimes, but even those touches that would sound like sprinkles on her older work are turned strange by the rest of the songs fever-dream feel, the whole thing sounding like it’s turning itself over in the sheets trying to ignore the bad feeling. A lot of Japanese music in 2011…hell, all around the world…tried to sound unsettling, but “I Dream I Dead” can claim residency in the top percentile because this song came out back in January. It has been nearly an entire year and this song still lurks with us, and like the fever that nearly had me scribbling messages to people on hotel stationary it still makes me shiver a little when I think about it.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1j-DqTkaH4″]

2. Sakanaction “Rookie”

Over the course of the past year, I’ve often found myself wondering out loud why I bother to follow mainstream Japanese music at all anymore. Trying to find new ways to say Kanjani8 suck or having to endure a new Porno Graffiti single at times felt like a chore. Oftentimes, J-Pop/J-Rock in 2011 felt like a dead end, new singles content to chew on their own tales in an infinite loop that would still be lapped up by a public OK with the same old sound. The Japanese pop music landscape looked bleaker than ever these past 12 months, dominated by the idiotic dinner theater of AKB48, a group whose music barely even played a role in their success. Sometimes I wanted to pack it in completely, throw this site’s mission statement to the wind and just dwell in the underground. Or move to Korea, where the pop music just sounds better.

Yet even as AKB48 shatter sales records and new groups named “Sexy Zone” are trumpeted in giant billboard form all over Osaka and my soul dies, hope for a better Japanese mainstream persists thanks to songs like “Rookie.” Sakanaction didn’t light the J-charts on fire…”Rookie” placed on the Oricon charts, but with relatively modest numbers…but they still landed spots on Music Station and primo Tower Records real estate with a blend of rock and dance that never sounded predictable and left plenty of space for big, drippy emotions. One of my favorite moments of the year came in May at a giant flea market being held in a spacious park in Osaka, the event sponsored by a radio station. Between the sort of pop-rock that seems to be a natural resource in Japan came those huge, sweeping synths and Ichiro Yamaguchi’s echo-filled vocals. This sounded nothing like the modern Japanese pop world. This sounded like something exciting.

“Rookie” is Sakanaction’s best song because it takes the band’s formula of fusing rock and dance together and blows it up to the size of at least four of those terrible Sexy Zone billboards. The opening makes just as much use out of space as it does electronics to show size, building towards the moment where the percussion powers in and Sakanaction reveal their “Born Slippy” influence. From here the song finds balance between pop catchiness and dance floor energy, highlighted by the best chorus Sakanaction have ever penned. The sonic daring on display here already makes “Rookie” standout from the mainstream pile, but what makes it feel like a classic is something lacking in modern-day J-Pop just as much as new musical ideas. “Rookie” brims with emotion, Yamaguchi’s singing matching the constantly peaking whirlwind around him. “Rookie” is a great song that is a reminder that Japanese music can aspire to something greater.

[youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZdWX0IDhbCU”]

1. Kaela Kimura “8Eight8”

So here we are at number one, and I am willing to admit this isn’t a completely orthodox pick for the top slot. For one, “8Eight8” came out in early October, meaning it has only been kicking around for two months which seems like hardly enough time for a song to establish itself as a contender…let alone THE…for the number-one spot. “8Eight8” isn’t even a single and at the moment I have no idea if they plan to release it as one. It’s the title track to Kaela Kimura’s sixth studio album and though the album has proven relatively successful, nobody outside of a very small corner of the Internet buzzes about the song “8Eight8.” Yet, five days and forty-nine blurbs later, Make Believe Melodies is naming “8Eight” our top Japanese song of 2011 and we have no reservations in doing so.

To understand why “8Eight8,” it helps to know a little about the list maker. Despite the very liberal use of the royal “we,” only one person writes this blog and that means only one person made this list. The truth to all of this…a truth implied, but in the digital age one easily glossed over in favor of comment-section fisticuffs…is these are my personal favorite songs of the year, the tunes that filled the spaces between the rush of other stuff in 2011. The past year went a little like this for me: I was going to move back to my home in the United States, but then changed my mind and planned on staying in my city in the Japanese countryside. Yet my plans disintegrated late, and after burning several bridges I found myself suddenly moving into a Motel-6-sized apartment in Osaka. Alone. And so I began a new job in a new city, with a new train route and a new post-work gym, and a new schedule that left me with not much time. This shift in my life drastically changed the way I listened to music. Mainly, I didn’t have enough time to listen to as much as I used to. The record player I had bought a year prior suddenly found itself gathering dust, while listening to my iPod on the commute to work became my dominant means of hearing songs. New music had to make a very strong impression or else it ran the risk of being lost in the shuffle.

“8Eight8” has been in constant rotation for me since it first arrived, soundtracking my walk to and from work, the train ride back, my laughable attempts at trying to gain muscle and all the solitary nights spent in my apartment writing. Sometimes I would walk around the streets of Osaka late at night just listening to “8Eight8” because it fit the mood and reflected my feelings. Few songs made as big an emotional impact with me as this one, dominating my very precious listening time.

Yet this takes the top spot for more reasons than I can be a sad guy who doesn’t have time to download everything Pitchfork reviews. Kaela Kimura, who started her career as a model and talk show host, has spent the majority of her music career as a J-Pop chameleon, capitalizing on trends and doing an above-average job mimicking popular sounds. That changed with last year’s “You Bet!!,” a blast of self-confident rock that introduced the world to something that could be called Kimura’s own sound. The album 8Eight8 takes the next step in establishing her own style, but the song “8Eight8” jumps several pegs further. This is Kimura’s first potential masterpiece, a song bending the preferred structure of J-Pop while boasting a gut-punch of an emotional core.

This song is the darkest thing Kimura has ever written for sure, the metaphor central to this song finding Kimura transformed into a spider, creeping around at night and also playing the role of “dreamcatcher.” She’s “hunting every midnight” and eating “imagined monsters inside you,” a vague “you” that arachnid Kimura seems obsessed with. The music matches the mood created by the words, silky guitar lines accentuated with piano. The song’s best sonic touch is the sound of a guitar seemingly sucking itself inward, like a spider flipping onto its back and weaving a web over itself. Second-best touch – the way that, after the first verse, the music seemingly flies off into the shadows and makes devil eyes at the listener.

The chorus contains the emotional payload, though. It starts with what sounds like confidence, Kimura singing “I’m gonna be scary/a black spider in the end,” a personal pump-up line seemingly more appropriate for a football locker room. Then, in “8Eight8’s” most cutting swipe and one of the few musical moments from 2011 that still give me shivers each time, whatever confident image Kimura built up comes crashing down with the simple murmuring of “I’m going to be lonely.” It’s a blunt and devastating line delivered only twice.

Nothing else sounded like “8Eight8” this year, but Kimura’s best song to date did find itself at the intersection of what so many other Japanese artists were trying to do. “8Eight8” bridges the gap between the #2 and #3 songs on this list – while the charts continued to be dominated by same-sounding schlock, a handful of J-Pop artists like Perfume, Shiina Ringo and Sakanaction experimented with pop formulas to create exciting new sounds offering hope. Kaela Kimura finds herself in this company as well, and “8Eight8” is her best stab at forward-thinking pop yet. Kimura, though, also hit on the self-aware emotional elements dominating Japanese indie music this year, from the lonely productions of HNC to the CUZ ME PAIN crew to the dreamy escapes of Canopies And Drapes and Moscow Club.

“8Eight8” reflected many different musical scenes in contemporary Japan, but ultimately this tops my list because nothing hit closer to my heart this year and if the entire point of lists like these are to share songs we care about, this has to be my top choice. So whether you skipped all the paragraphs above or read through them all, please listen to this song, because few meant as much to me this year.

DOWNLOAD HERE

Canopies And Drapes Remix The Rapture’s “How Deep Is Your Love?”

Tokyo’s Canopies And Drapes, behind one of the year’s prettiest EPs, is now staring down The Rapture. She remixed that DFA group'”How Deep Is Your Love?,” a track many labelled a return-to-form and many astute YouTube users noted has a chorus sounding like “The Thong Song.” Canopies’ take removes the track from the club it was made to be in and whisks The Rapture away to the same dreamy, sorta frosted over world she created on Violet, Lily, Rose, Daisy. Luke Jenner’s vocals get submerged a bit beneath synths, bell chimes and beats, less a dance floor command like in the original mix and more like some stray thought. Favorite detail, though, goes to what CaD does with the other vocal touches, the “woo-hoos” and the “yeahs.” On the Soundcloud description, she writes that this remix is a Christmas songs. With all those bell twinkles, it makes sense!

It’s also an entry into DFA’s “How Deep Is Your Love?” remix contest.

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/29690937″]