98.12.28 男達の別れ [98.12.28 Otokotachi No Wakare]
by フィッシュマンズ [Fishmans]

From DriftingOrpheus 07/14/2022 17:24 | #287420 | TOP COMMENT Vote up your preferred comments and the comments with the most votes will be flagged.

On December 28th, 1998, enigmatic frontman Shinji Sato gazed upon a vigilant crowd gathered lovingly at the Akasaka Blitz in Minato, Tokyo. It was here that his band, Fishmans, was prepared to bid adieu to their bassist, Yuzuru Kashiwabara, who was set upon leaving the group. Little did anyone know, the amount of finality and reverence this performance would carry would forever bathe the band in a balmy luster of posthumous praise. As the first reverberations of guitar are heard, a docility seems to rain over the multitude, almost entranced in a spiritual, reverent manner. Such things happen without warning, yet, when they do, they have the tendency to stifle the passing of time and render the present moment motionless. What happened on that December evening in Tokyo is exalted for the transcendent-nature of the musicality and Sato's passing in the months that would follow. What many don't perceive, is that it wasn't just Sato's passage that galvanized those proceedings. Every single soul on stage and in attendance would take part in the ascension to a higher state of musical consciousness, now permanent, invisible residents of both the Akasaka Blitz and another heavenly dimension.

Sato and company begin with the pleasantries and with 'Oh! Slime', which bestows respective introductions to each of the band's players. This preamble progressively evolves from a spacey, serene whirring into a bouncy declaration of jubilee. It's clear that the forthcoming ceremony isn't going to be colored by solemnity, despite it being Kashiwabara's swan song. The chants of "Are you feel good?" further blur the collective reality and affix the qualities of a fragmented dream. The band slips back into serenity with the arrival of their legendary cut, 'ナイトクルージング (Night Cruising)'. This 'Night Cruise' is more tranquil than its studio album doppelganger, exercising more force and dramatic heft. Sato's presence seems to emanate like vapor through the bright, twinkly guitar chords. The track unfurls at a measured tempo, conjuring images of summer-swept, evening car rides with the windows at half mast. Distorted guitar clangs charge into Sato's banshee wail which fuels the burgeoning sense of grandiosity as the track fades from view. Next in queue, is a revisitation of the band's sophomore effort, 1992's King Master George. The cosmic, percussive 'なんてったの (What Was It)', materializes in a form seemingly untethered and which could fly away at a moment's notice. It's Honzi's work at the keys that colors and elevates the track, as her exploits attach a perceptible sense of melancholy to the song. The bittersweet sensations persist as Fishmans slip into 'Thank You', a explicit championing of life and an unbridled expression of gratitude for its peaks and valleys. The track's somber essence is one of hindsight, as Sato's screeches of life pre-date the ending of his own just months thereafter. It, at times, seems like a conscious goodbye, adding to the mystical gravitas of the band's live farewell.

The band ceases to drag their feet as they decide to live within the present with 'Shiawase-mono (A Happy Person)', a bassy, simmering concoction of placid guitar tones which are ushered away gracefully by Honzi's egressing, endearing keys. The pace lounges more evidently with 'Tayorinai Tenshi (Unreliable Angel)', which shimmers like a calm before a storm, despite its aesthetic allure. Carrying distinct reggae and ska sheens, Fishmans re-enliven their dub roots with pastoral, matured sensibilities. The velocity does resurface, however, the piquancy remains with 'Hikōki (ひこうき; Airplane)', a noticeably more rosy affair fit with phosphorescent guitar and jovial vocals. The infectious guitar solo marks a triumphant break within the track, providing a raucous, screeching wall which firmly divides the two melodic sections. After a brief exchange, the mood swells, the crowd loosens and the stage at the Blitz is now shrouded. The band recrudesces with a signature composition, 'In the Flight', off of 1997's 'Uchū Nippon Setagaya (Space Japan Setagaya)'. The track is rife with gradual escalation, with a dream pop alpha flowing into a brief but elastic, omega. Often cooing as gently as a dove, Sato's vocals on the track are befittingly avian, fragile and susceptible to a soft breeze. Honzi's violin passage weeps softly and elegantly acting as the perfect placeholder and compliment to Sato's own delicate offerings. An arresting symbiotic relationship carries 'In the Flight' into the ether. With a pivot from one legacy-defining track to another, 'Walking in the Rhythm' manifests. This 'Rhythm' is not as melodramatic as it dutifully chugs along before cascading overtop of itself with an assortment of varying guitar sections. The eponymous chants have never sounded so weighty as the track spirals into a cosmic cauldron of intergalactic synth and dueling guitar before crescendoing with labored exaltations from all parties. It's an incredible, stream-of-consciousness adaptation of the band's original masterpiece.

Another trans-dimensional odyssey takes place with the subsequent, 'Smilin' Days, Summer Holiday'. This voyage is powered by guitars that swirl and circulate like maelstroms, but without carrying a semblance of menace or ill-will. They gleam brightly from portion to portion as a cluster of voices flow out, tucked in snugly beneath the ever-advancing strings. After a particularly upbeat, punchy rendition of 'Melody' off of 1994's 'Orange', the stage darkens once more and the disposition becomes one of voiceless consideration. Fishmans begin to perform 'Yurameki in the Air (Flickering in the Air)', a composition that brandishes the same genetic makeup of slow-developing staples such as 'Night Cruising' and 'In the Flight', but stretched out to infinity. It's here that they return to music so gauzy and ethereal that, if you adjust your gaze or shift too brashly, it may flee from view, like innocent fauna of the forest. This intimate mind-meld between artist and audience for 16 unbroken minutes is pure bliss. Penultimate effort, "Ikareta Baby (いかれた Baby; Crazy Baby)", uncoils in a very disparate fashion than its studio counterpart. Here, the piece prefers to wander amidst the expanded acoustics of the Blitz and ride a persistent tempo into the final act of Fishmans' final hour.

So, Fishmans and Shinji Sato offered their parting gift to the world and it began with a cosmic whirl which bleeds into the unforgettable keyboard centerpiece. 'Long Season' was now in full swing, and experiencing it in its fully-realized form makes it easy to forget that the project was once a microscopic idea. This idea continued to propagate from the original six-minute version to the now towering, 41-minute monolith of musical perfection. Albeit tragic, it seems utterly apt that this composition would be the last thing the first iteration of the band would perform. Sato's guitar solo creates the proverbial shriek of a imploding star, a ball of gas which burns so bright that it collapses in on itself by way of its own brilliance. This final 'season' is one which seemingly endures the changing of the leaves, the shifting of tectonic plates and causes the earth, for a brief moment, to cease its rotation and stand still.

The Akasaka Blitz was closed in 2020, now a musical tomb, further painting a picture of a night more reminiscent of a mirage than a historical event. Its memory remains eternally imprinted upon the site and in the hearts and minds of those who witnessed this performance. Until recently, few outside Japan knew of the majesty Fishmans could conjure, but their creative tree fell in the woods in December 1998. Few heard it's alluring reverberation then, but now, finally, all can take part in its auditory luster. You see, as the tree collided with the Earth below, its descent and demise fertilized a beautiful garden which blooms more vividly each day and remains an idyllic place to sit, listen and ponder the radiance of life itself.

"I hope you don't fade away today"
- ゆらめき in the Air

Standout Tracks:

1. Long Season
2. ゆらめき in the Air
3. ナイトクルージング (Nightcruising) (Edited)

From Anti TOP 100 COMMENTER 01/25/2019 03:29 | #230468 | TOP COMMENT Vote up your preferred comments and the comments with the most votes will be flagged.

The last time I was this floored by an album on my first listen was when TPAB came out. MBDTF and TPAB were the only other albums to make me give a perfect score on first listen. I didn't think I would ever feel this feeling again, but Fishmans did it. This masterpiece is joining the crowd.

What a masterful performance. You can hear the sincerity in the band, especially on the stellar live rendition of Long Season in its entirety. True musicianship. I'm studying for my acute cardiovascular exam as I type this comment and I almost shed tears in the library from the beauty of this live album.

If I'm ever asked "If you can go to any concert ever, in the history of time, what concert would you go to?" My answer would be this one.

From TheHolyKiwi TOP 100 COMMENTER 07/03/2017 09:54 | #193597 | TOP COMMENT Vote up your preferred comments and the comments with the most votes will be flagged.

Honestly better than Long Season, like it literally contains Long Season as it's a live record but with so much more. So much more beauty, so much more quality. Probably the greatest live recording ever for me.

From Vatsal TOP 100 COMMENTER 09/28/2019 17:11 | #243144 | TOP COMMENT Vote up your preferred comments and the comments with the most votes will be flagged.

The Long Season, already, is a unique and brilliant piece, and then they went and did that live version, and I am just speechless. Its otherworldly. just 41 minutes of pure excellence.

Being the last song on the last album, recorded weeks before the death of the lead singer, when you add all that context to it, I cannot even fathom its existence. And it justifies all this hyperbole.

I recently discovered this band, and have listened to this album a handful of times, and its brilliant in its entirety, but I wanted to mention this version of The Long Season specifically, because OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!

From DaVGManiac 06/08/2018 18:03 | #216351 | TOP COMMENT Vote up your preferred comments and the comments with the most votes will be flagged.

This is the greatest live album ever recorded, and I used to think that Nirvana's MTV Unplugged in New York was unbeatable. Most of the songs on here are superior to their studio counterparts, especially Long Season. The album never feels boring, despite its length. What I like the most about this one is the fact that you don't have to understand Japanese in order to enjoy it. This is truly a remarkable achievement, full of overwhelming atmosphere and beauty. It's about time this talented band is getting more recognition, because they totally deserve all the praise.