Bi Kyo Ran
Parallax

"Japanese King Crimson"? Yes, most probably so. But it's wise to tread carefully with certain labels, especially when Yonin Bayashi (another legend of Japanese Prog) are often categorized as "the Genesis" or even "the PFM" of the Land of the Rising Sun - definitions I would censor without hesitation. Beyond the undeniable stylistic similarities with the Crimson King (affinities that have been discussed and written about extensively), Bi Kyo Ran are above all a band with an incredibly solid identity of their own, especially considering they began recording when the magical moment of "Anglo" Prog had long since passed (their first self-titled long play dates back to 1982). Much has been said about the derivative nature of their music, claiming it's somewhat interesting but not very original in content, while I would emphasize that their interpretation of the art of Fripp and company was far from a slavish imitation; for some critics, all their albums are photocopies, only slightly varied, of "Red", but I say it's difficult to simplify everything to such statements. First, because King Crimson are not the only recognizable source of inspiration, although definitely the most evident one (we are dealing with a group that records tracks titled "Vision Of The City" or "21st Century Africa": don't these titles remind you of anything...?). Second, because Kunio Suma's group demonstrates a capability to blend the various incarnations of the King over three decades, not limiting themselves to a mimetic reproduction of the sound of "Red" or any other album: in other words, their music seems to house "In The Court" (especially for the use of the Mellotron), the "Lark's Tongues"/"Starless"/"Red" trilogy (in the distorted contortions of guitar and violin and in the aggressiveness of the bass) and the recent early '80s trilogy, which was not yet concluded when "Parallax" was released (the unpredictability of the rhythmic underpinning, often subjected to splitting and overlaps).

With "Parallax" we're in 1983, one year after their debut release; it's difficult to replicate a masterpiece, unless it's with another masterpiece. Surprisingly, they manage it, with an even more complex work than the previous one, even more focused on the suite as the preferred expressive module: two long tracks on the first side, a long sequence of movements on the second (which is reserved the emblematic title of "Suite Ran"). Spontaneity prevails over technique, the search for original solutions prevails over traditionalism and "manner". The original trio lineup of Ran expands with external contributions from keyboardist (or rather, "Mellotronist") Toshio Egawa, the violin of Toshihiro Nagahishi and - in the concluding suite - an entire orchestral brass section somewhat modeled on "Atom Heart Mother", thus reviving - albeit in very unique forms - the traditional Rock-Classical dichotomy.

The opening of "Silent Running" is sumptuous, where the Frippian matrix of Suma’s guitar style is immediately evident, and when the leader's vocals enter, one wonders if Adrian Belew has learned Japanese... Near-isolated guitar lashes, while bass and drums support the voice in an overtly dark, somber, bleak context; of the three pieces on the tracklist, this is undoubtedly the most accessible, the most "linear" in terms of overall structure (as much as the term can be considered valid), the most tied to certain styles of "classic" Rock. At least until the rhythm section becomes tense, and at that moment the explosion of the guitar (and, seamlessly) the violin steer the track’s development onto tortuous and challenging paths (the unison between the two instruments at the end of the solo section is to be appreciated).

"Prediction" is an absolute masterpiece of instrumental sensitivity and compositional acumen. Here the Mellotron dominates in the first part, evoking the symphony of "Epitaph" or "In The Wake Of Poseidon", while the guitar has already presented the theme drawing a romantic modern evolution of "Starless". And those drum rolls shortly after, what else do they remind if not of those that accompanied "the King's court entrance" (to the wise, few words)...? The genius of Ran lies precisely in not stopping at a banal repetition of these cues, but in knowing how to actualize them with new and sensational choices, not least the overlapping of two choral layers in counterpoint (a magic of studio post-synchronization, one might say, but they knew how to replicate certain feats live, and indeed it was live that they gave their best). This is followed, on an absolutely atonal theme, by what I love to recall as one of the greatest guitar solos I've ever heard in the Prog domain: the stellar sequence of notes that Suma can string together in a context of pure executive ecstasy, compressing and expanding them extensively with powerful legatos, transitioning from the sterile impalpability of the first phase to the distorted, violent sounds of the second.

In an ascending climax that seems never-ending, you flip to the other side and are introduced to the schizophrenic splendor of the much-anticipated suite, an ineffable multi-headed beast corresponding to as many movements; movements that conflict, rather than amalgamate, as in the best Crimson tradition, feeding and confirming the variety of twenty-one breathtaking minutes. Starting from those unsettling Oldfield-esque bells, as droplets drip like brief impressions from the leader's guitar; an illusion of serenity soon shattered by the inexorable bass of Masahide Shiratori and the sharp beat of the drums, the guitar swiftly adapting to the context up to the arrival of sinister trumpets echoing in the distance. This is followed by the presentation of an almost-Funk groove of bass and drums, a brief peak before a consequent trough occupied by the Mellotron. Slowly, the mix takes shape until it overflows into the disorienting explosion of a section of pure, delirious "noise", made even more terrifying by the hybrid overlay of drum and electronic percussion. The closing is the domain of the guitar and an unwavering, sideral tranquility.

An essential listen.