For almost two decades, The Boredoms have been the staple band of the prosperous Japanese noise-rock commonwealth. With a style that comes nowhere remotely close to pigeonhole-ability, The Boredoms are bona fide audio terrorists who at times unleash a sound so brutal on their nation that makes it Godzilla look like a pussy. While coming off as arty, psychedelic, loud, and experimental to say the least, under the watchful of eye of the demented genius of Eye Yamatsuka (no pun intended), the Boredoms have always been pushing boundaries in which they take a different step with each album that they put out. On Seadrum/House of Sun not only does the CD come in a sweet blue case, but it clocks in at forty-three minutes with two songs titled “Seadrum” and “House of Sun.” Duh.
“Seadrum” starts off with some torpid and silvery chanting with a surplus of tribal drums and chimes that crash against a wall of white noise. The atmosphere of sound will take you back to the when you were a little kid and had the living piss scared out of you when you saw the sacrificial, heart-ripping (literally), ritual of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom for the first time. The avant-garde piano flourishing will get the rocks off for fans of jazz envelope pushers such as Sun Ra and Alice Coltrane. Bantam slews of hissing gently crash against a wall of sound that can at times be serene like ocean waves at night. Don’t expect to marinate on it for too long but expect to be pleased with a healthy glaze of the marimba. Throughout the second half of “Seadrum” the landscape is littered about with an intense flurry of cymbals and gongs. It’s amazing that the Boredoms didn’t pass out from loss of breath when they were recoding this composition. It’s like a PCP party at a Geisha house.
“House of Sun” however, moves into a direction that has more of a wide variety of Eastern ingredients than a curry powder. The sitar arrangements would get Brian Jones’s stamp of approval, were he still alive today, and would make Anton Newcombe boil with envy. The droning Krautrock column manages to amalgamate with the ocean floor sonority that Brian Eno was so keen on using in his early solo recordings. But after all that, the placidity goes stale which makes “House of Sun” only useful to be played during your next appointment with a Shiatsu therapist.
The energy and passion in which the Boredoms showcase on Seadrum/House of Sun is rather impressive but, overall, is an album for the most loyal of fans. New listeners should start out on their stellar 1994 release Pop Tatari and work you’re way up on their discography.
Ruins – Hyderomastgroningem
Melt Banana – Scratch or Stitch
Korekyojin – Isotope