Japan
Gentlemen Take Polaroids

One of the greatest merits that should be recognized to London's Japan and their charismatic leader David Sylvian is being the great Western narrators of the Far East and producing with surprising originality and aesthetic spirit musical pieces that touch the sublime of art.

And while Duran Duran, in the early '80s, began producing the first cries in the commercial jam disguised as "new wave" (there might be an exception for the first album), Japan was already shining in the firmament of new romantic, as it would soon be defined, the more sentimental strand of the aforementioned musical movement.

In the opinion of the writer, "Gentlemen Take Polaroids" represents not only the most beautiful, complex, and mature album of the group but also one of the highest moments of the entire new wave. In this album, one can fully understand the peculiarity of Japan's sound, the fusion of avant-garde electronics (thanks to the considerable experience acquired from geniuses like Brian Eno and David Bowie) with an approach close to "world music," with the taste and culture of Japan. And if David Sylvian is known for having one of the most peculiar voices of those years, in the lyrics of "Gentlemen Take Polaroids," he already establishes himself as the great songwriter he will become after the group disbands.

The album opens with a title track that takes your breath away: dry drums and sweet, melancholic synth sounds that immediately immerse the listener in an oriental atmosphere, with Sylvian's magnetic and spectral voice dominating (almost covering a musical background) and singing about the immediate and innocent love of a man...but not just any man. Sylvian clearly references gentlemen, post-modern dandies, wanting to place himself among them with an ostentatious eccentric but elegant spirit. And as if using a polaroid, the dandy manages to capture and fix in time, in an instant that lasts an eternity, a sudden and fleeting love, preserving its memory in the heart. If such beautiful lyrics come from a truly inspired Sylvian, the musical structure must not fall short; and that’s why one of the masters of experimentation and world music, alias Ryuichi Sakamoto of "YMO," comes directly from Japan to enrich the album with his magic, making it, with such an important support, irresistibly attractive.

And following a magnificent hit, unjustly undervalued in the UK charts, comes "Swing," marked by fantastic syncopation, synthetic winds, and more tribal-tasting sounds; a track certainly marked by the traditional spectral-dance sound of Japan, comparable to what is found in "Quiet Life." Belonging to the same profile is the slower and more ephemeral "My new career," with Sylvian’s voice always poignant and metallic yet overwhelming, nestling and alternating with interludes of winds and double basses (we remain in the realm of synth).

But in "GTP," there's also space for Barbieri and Dean's instrumental experiments: from the gripping and devastating landscapes of "Burning Bridges" to the two tracks included in the 2003 album restyle, "The Experience Of Swimming" and "The Width Of A Room," true gems of rarefaction and the ephemeral. Moments of silence to be savored in one's own room.

And even if the other great hit of the album, "Methods Of Dance," presenting a fantastic final part where Sylvian’s voice is joined by that of a sensual and voluptuous woman, evoking Japanese choruses, does not present great innovation, "Ain't That Peculiar" is instead a track deeply imbued with world music traits that are a "quasi" novelty in the Japan and not only musical landscape. In fact, the track revolves around very marked drums but with a decidedly natural and primitive sound, a pounding spiral of sounds upon which Sylvian’s voice chases. But the best is still to be revealed.

The best arrives almost at the end of the entire work, which instead of fading, revives with a track I consider one of the most innovative of the entire decade, alias "Taking Island In Africa," conceived like a pearl shining upon the rest by the skilled pen of Sylvian and Sakamoto. An indisputable track both for musical structure and lyrics, with a soul entirely devoted to world music (metamorphosis completed) already from the title itself. And for this reason, it makes no sense to particularly comment on a track which with such a broad conceptual range, every listener could perceive differently. The audience is thus left with the hard judgment.

Certainly no less is what some have considered the best "ballad" of the 80s and perhaps beyond, namely "Nightporter." A track that couldn't be more classic, but in its structural simplicity, leaves space for lyrics that lead the reader to deep reflection on the heart's suffering, for a love story that must be lived in secrecy and the danger of being discovered. The night porter is a guardian and turning point of this relationship, being on the boundary between waiting and pleasure. If all this may seem rather worldly, fanciful, and unorthodox, the lyrics are masked with masterful experience, emphasizing that loving with deep passion is more important than following an ethical code. Once again, the dandy spirit of Sylvian comes through very clearly.

An album that represents an example of how in the 80s, romanticism was anything but a dead and buried thing, and which expresses with a strong poetic spirit the great capability and the great feelings of an eccentric but brilliant songwriter like David Sylvian.