Half Japanese
Perfect
Joyful Noise Recordings
Beneath moments of mathy chaos are 13 songs that progress rather superficially. There is a profound lack of lyrical oversight on Perfect and the result is something akin to Deerhoof with brain damage.
Helium-infused electronics on opener βThat Is Thatβ decorate what is the most rudimentary song on the album. Then, on track two, Thurston Moore-imitation vocals wander around pale synths and a sinister descending chord progression. Next, on track three ββYou and Iβ β one lovey-dovey lyric ends with βever, ever, ever, ever partβ in what is either the worst song writing Iβve ever, ever, ever, ever encountered, or a sign of improvised lyricism. I have reason to believe, given the history of Half Japanese, that both are true. And sadly, the language only gets worse from there.
Titular track βPerfectβ has a promising beginning with its floating flute and exotic drums, but is, in a somewhat processional manner, dragged through the mud by annoying and meaningless vocals. Iβd rather hear non-sequitur mumblings or angry glossolalia than empty, perfunctory ejaculations.
On tracks like βHold Onβ the accompaniment really impresses with a dextrous, melding sound, providing a brief glimpse of what the whole album coulda-shoulda sounded like. Sure enough, even on this track, itβs only a matter of minutes before βHold on to your seat and never ever ever ever ever accept defeat, no wayβ barges its way in. This is preschool poetry.
Tracks like βMan Without A Shadow,β βHere We Are,β and βListen To Your Heartβ hug the clichΓ©s even harder, and itβs a damn shame then that the backing instruments sound so fantastic.
Some interesting moments include the track βWeβll Go Far,β which sounds like if Danish punk band Iceage made deranged and unhealthy childrenβs music; and the Flaming Lips-esque ballad βThatβs Called Love,β which is drenched in doe-eyed drool.
The terse βIn Your Spellβ and βA New Beginningβ at least have the decency to spew their spiel and leave on the doorβs backswing. The proselytization on βThatβs Rightβ is suffocating and subscribes to the misguided belief that yelling βBE HAPPY!β is a cure for depression. Lyrics like βdouble rainbow, knock on woodβ and βlive your life to its fullestβ arenβt inspiring; theyβre idiotic, and there is no pretext of irony to fall back on.
Where is the Dadaist insanity from Half Japaneseβs 50-track album 1/2 Gentlemen/Not Beasts? Where is the electricity that made Kurt Cobain die in their t-shirt? Maybe we can pin this on El NiΓ±o. Grumbling Ty Segall-esque guitars, winding synths and high-hat-heavy drums are all good ingredients, but Perfect makes one question the need for lyrics at all when the vacuous front-and-centre vocals are so detrimental to the overall sound, and thatβs no good. It drove me half mad.
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SPILL ALBUM REVIEW: HALF JAPANESE – PERFECT
Nicholas Fazio