Blankey Jet City
Red Guitar And The Truth

I don't know if you've ever had the chance to listen to "Buck Jam Tonic," a document of a Japanese session from 2002 where John Zorn led a strange "power trio" (yes, let's call it that) with Bill Laswell and Tatsuya Nakamura. Nakamura...? Who was he? Several years have passed since I listened to that record: I knew little to nothing about Japan, even less about Japanese MUSIC, and the only Nakamura I knew was the one who played with Reggina and took curved free kicks. Period. But one thing I understood almost instantly: this Nakamura is an animal, more than a drummer. Wow, he hits hard: stuff that makes John Bonham and Carmine Appice look like little girls in comparison. Go find that record if you don't have it on hand, and listen to the drum intro on "Old Dragon" or "Lobo": this animal surprises you, makes you jump out of your seat, smashes your eardrums; and he has that raw, ignorant, wonderfully uncouth sound that's increasingly rare to hear on a record (not on Zorn’s records, obviously); he pounds the bass drum, smashes the skins (no half measures), makes the cymbals clang like kitchenware; but he also has a unique, informal style, does Jazz in a way that not all drummers would, and varies, varies, varies... he could go on with those rolls for hours. Where a Keith Moon would pass out on stage, this guy keeps playing (and keeps up with Zorn's delirium for 28 straight minutes: did I get the point across?).

Later, as I began my deep dive into the wonders of Japan, I came across Mr. Nakamura again when I discovered a band that, in terms of '90s local Rock, said something. More than something. Aaahhh... that's where that sly Zorn found him: with Blankey Jet City. I saw some of their photos, I wasn't entirely convinced: they seemed like those little doll idols that are all the rage in Japan, Korea, and nearby (damn barber). I wanted to forget them, but then their music got to me. And bad. One record better than the other, so to speak.

They are a trio with Nakamura, guitarist Kenichi Asai (he's also done some solo stuff, anyone interested can contact me), and bassist Toshiyuki Terui, who recently played with a band called Rosso. They got together in '90, and a year later their first LP (this one) came out. They recorded it in London for Toshiba, and put everything into it. Everything that Japanese Rock could offer in those days, so much so that "Red Guitar & The Truth" is constantly at the top of local charts; those like "best Japanese album ever," "most influential work of the '90s," etc. etc... I'm not saying it's a "Nevermind" (oh well, the year is actually the same), but it is a symbolic record, even scandalous, if you will: lyrics of juvenile delinquency, decay, marginalization. To the rhythm of a ferociously electric, thorny, aggressive Blues from the very first note: a Texan-style Blues ("Texas" is the title of the single from the album, still the band's anthem), among S.R.Vaughan-like guitars and sumptuous shuffle rhythms, vocal reverbs, and very Surf-like riffs, very "sixties" in general. And here you understand it's no coincidence, if before Blankey Nakamura played with the Stalin, a leading group of early '80s Japanese anarcho-punk: very heavy snare, essential and incredibly fast fills, a very brutal approach. Ten tracks to take like a punch in the stomach, up to the six minutes of "Mother," a "metallic" tale of a teenager's frustration abandoned by his family (what does Asai's guitar do...? Listen, listen).

Come on, I owe this five stars. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED to punk rockers who crave Blues and Rockabilly and to bluesmen who are more into rock, you can't miss it.