Long Season '96-7 96.12.26 Akasaka Blitz (live album) by フィッシュマンズ [Fishmans]

From DriftingOrpheus 01/19/2023 01:06

When Fishmans signed with Virgin Records Japan in 1990, drummer Kin-ichi Motegi thought that the band would sell 50,000 copies of their debut record, 'Chappie, Don't Cry'. In reality, the album didn't even sell 5,000. Fishmans, despite their brilliance, weren't able to boast any kind of monetary success, not that this ran parallel to the quality of the music, which was often stratospheric. These days, their performances and reissues are labors of love and honor while thoughts of economic prosperity from the music seem irrelevant. The remaining men from the band's heyday occupy a very different headspace than the young kids that broke into the Japanese music scene at the dawn of the 1990's. Then, they were wide-eyed, ambitious and fully unaware of the rigors and crushing distresses that the music industry offers with little clemency. Frontman Shinji Sato, particularly, foresaw a future bedecked with a rock star effigy and he worked tirelessly on his craft to feed the fires of his vision. Not to undermine the disappointment of any of the members who gave their all to the now legendary Japanese unit, but the fruits of a belatedly-adored discography feel all the more tragic in a world without Sato in it. Outside of Japan, few could squint and regard the band as "rock stars", however, whenever the group took the stage, the quality of their live showcase anointed them as a force with no equal.

'Long Season '96' contains material from Fishmans at their peak. Recorded in the Winter of 1996, its release in 2016 came as a welcomed surprise for loyal fans who had long waited for a companion piece to the seismic '98.12.28' (1999). It's safe to say that '96' wades effervescently through the same hallowed passage of celestial bodies. The LP commences, the only way it could, with a Fishmans live staple/calling card. 'Oh Slime' starts with the shrill, unmistakable wail from Shinji Sato, a sort of auditory autograph, as the unit uncorks their customary, preliminary track. This version of 'Oh! Slime', is more barebones than the epic, arena-filling version found on '98.12.28'. What this rendition lacks in polish, it makes up for with heavy helpings of charm. Notably less formidable than its evolution, the playful keyboarding of secret weapon member, Honzi, colors the track beneath Sato's half-spoken/half-sung vocals. Before you can blink, the band slips into second track 'Go Go Round This World!', as declared by Yuzuru Kashiwabara's heartbeat, sub-aquatic bass line. This iteration of 'Go Go' vastly differs from its original life as a single from Fishmans in 1994. Where the single was direct, melodic and firmly colored in from within the lines, the live equivalent is comparative free jazz and borderline improvisational. It's an eight-minute, kaleidoscopic safari that reorients itself compulsively between canorous wobbler and prog-rock bouncer. It's one of the record's more intriguing forays, especially when holding it up to the light, parallel to the prototype. Putting new coats of paint on compositions should always be in play on stage and the band successfully touches up their prior handiwork. Third track, なんてったの, is an early career standout, as pointed out by Sato himself. The swirling track retains most of the properties of the studio cut. In other live iterations, there's a warmth present from Honzi's keys. Here, chilly tones return, leaving the warmth to Sato's vocals as Kin-ichi Motegi's drums dance around both elements. It's a track that undeniably circular, leaving the listener in dizzy, joyful bewilderment. The aura of merriment extends to fourth entry, '土曜日の夜', however, shy basslines are shown the door. Kashiwabara's buoyant work on the track provides a smooth surface for others to effectively ad-lib on top of. This bravado is most extroverted during the song's mid-section, when Honzi's cosmic flourishes play tag with the unshackled guitar of Darts Sekiguchi. '土曜日の夜' is a ringing endorsement of the sturdiness of Fishmans' sonic foundations and gives credence to the notion that any additional musical adornment would homogenize seamlessly.

The LP takes its foot off the pedal with fifth track, 'バックビートにのっかって', a tranquil transcription of one of the more serene moments from 'Uchu Nippon Setagaya' (1997). Here, in its live reincarnation, the song is willing to unbutton its collar and let loose, if only marginally. The dotting of the outer edges propagates renewed vigor without parting with its aboriginal appeal. Extended drum installments and brighter keys illuminate a track that's far removed from a Monday morning shift and is comfortably enjoying Friday night cocktail hour. The airy waltz advances with 'エヴリデイ・エヴリナイト', which also isn't afraid to step out of its comfort zone. This chapter is still chiefly captained by the soothing coos of Shinji Sato, but exits stage with a Sekiguchi guitar extension that shakes your hand firmly before leaving, making sure you commit the name to memory. It's just then, when all things passive are expunged as 'Sunny Blue's' agitated riff splits the silence. The dichotomy between Sato's vocal delicacy and some of Fishmans' more combative instrumentation never ceases to marvel with its ability to harbor such consonance. Despite the truth behind the melody section hording the spotlight, Kin-ichi Motegi's dexterous drumming straightens the spine of the rebellious episode. The track, potentially more than the others, best displays a group who have fully found their technical confidence. With 'Smilin' Days, Summer Holiday', the band re-up on their opportunity to cast out any lingering kinetic energy. Another piece that has been embedded with new life on stage, 'Smilin' Days' is, at times, formless and polychromatic. However, the tune never veers into a place of ostentation and retains its sense of self. Still a down-to-earth celebration of life's little delights, this 'holiday' champions childlike innocence. Sato sings, "Like how a puppy and a child are understandably good friends; I'm sure the person with the foreign hairstyle is thinking the same thing."

As the LP approaches its coda, Fishmans graciously send off the observational, tenderhearted canticles of their formative years and invite the space rock, dream pop stylings of "すばらしくてNice Choice" in to close the loop. The track whirrs in, akin to a hovering flying saucer. The slightly shrouded perspective and auditory ambiguity point to a freshly charted course on the back half of 'Long Season '96'. This is not to dye the objectively benign lyrics as deceitful, but it does, however, cause them to land with alternate reverberations. Honzi's violin further implicates the cut as one with nebulous sensibilities, both literally and figuratively. 'Nice Choice' is one of the album's more arresting tangents, one that's markedly nihilistic as evidenced by Sato's declarations of, "Gently meet fate and laugh at it". Fishmans continue to live in the world of the incorporeal with '夜の想い', which translates to 'Thoughts of the Night'. Although the track has more swagger in its step, it still wrestles with headier themes than previous pop belters. This introspection isn't just contained to the setlist, the emotion found in this recitation is noticeably impassioned, as highlighted by the carefully weighted playing of its authors. Still, these are just precisely situated cultivations in service of the gut punch to come. The penultimate, 'ナイトクルージング', is to my ears, the finest arrangement the song has ever adopted, with its captivating allure pausing, smelling the flowers and then departing, clearing a path for the colossus. The finality of 'Long Season' never loses it's potency and while its more famous exhibition brandishes more emotion, this offering is more cavernous. The stellar percussion of Motegi and Asa-Chang at the track's axis is triumphant, eliminating any hint of a mid-point lull. This perpetual momentum steers the listener headfirst into the brunt of the song's unrivaled emotional endgame. Sato long wished for he and his cohorts to become "rock stars". Fortunately for them, the term "deities" would have to suffice.

95.6