Zazen Boys

Illumination in the strum of a guitar

Mukai Shutoku (second from left) and the “Boys”

Released on frontman Mukai Shutoku’s Matsuri Studio imprint, the Zazen Boys’ new album is a lonely outpost of indie-rock in Japan’s Top 20. The real surprise is that it has made it even that far.

Since rising to national attention and garnering critical plaudits in the late ‘90s with Number Girl, the uncompromising Shutoku has shown that even amid the computerized, glossy perfection of the pop that dominates the charts, there’s a place for music that challenges the listener.

Zazen Boys III is the kind of album that, if Japan had hipper-than-thou college radio like North America, would be found in heavy rotation rather than jostling for space with the idoru likes of Kumi Koda. Shutoku and company look for inspiration not within the music mainstream but inside the whirlpools and eddies where leftfield artists like Frank Zappa and the Minutemen existed.

The opening line of the opening track, Sugar Man, for example, references free jazz explorer John Coltrane. Bulging with Shutoku’s signature, sharp-edged guitar freakouts and vocal gruntings, this is music that dares you to like it. Then again, many have listened to and liked Zappa and even the sonic artillery barrages of New York’s No Wave boom, so why not?

Taking their name from the form of Zen Buddhist meditation in which enlightenment can come out of the blue at any moment, Zazen Boys were the next musical incarnation of the partnership between Shutoku and drummer Ahito Inazawa that was at the heart of Number Girl. Inazawa dropped out at the end of ‘94, but with Shutoku’s basis for Zazen Boys being “Yaritai koto wo yaru,” (“I’ll do what I want to”) he quickly convinced one of Japan’s better drummers, Atsushi Matsushita, to step in. (Matsushita is also known for his inventive work with Buffalo Daughter and singer Yuki.)

Shutoku also took the end of Number Girl in 2002 as an opportunity to open Matsuri Studio in a corner of Shibuya Ward, giving him a permanent place in which to test out his ideas without having to worry about paying by the hour for studio time. The result was a series of rapid-fire recordings, beginning with Zazen Boys’ self-titled 2004 debut and leading up to last month’s Zazen III.

Zazen Boys III Photos Courtesy of Matsuri Studio

Given that the album took more than 100 hours to record, what’s surprising about Zazen III is how minimal much of it sounds. Shutoku likes his guitars dry and scratchy, and seems to loathe standard studio practices like overdubbing and post-production effects. All the songs that made the cut were recorded in single takes.

What makes Zazen III work is the unfinished, unpolished feel of it. The album sounds not like “product” but like what it is: four individuals enjoying an energetic jam session. Shutoku and fellow guitarist Sou Yoshikane’s guitars ricochet off drummer Matsushita and bassist Hidekazu Hinata’s propulsive rhythms. Strange contrasts arise, as on “Friday Night” which sets angular rock guitars against a four-to-the-floor house beat. Shutoku’s whimsical lyrics take in everything from “Tombo Game” (Dragonfly Game) to a song about stray cats called “This is Noraneko.”

But what sounds like a diamond in the rough to some may come off as discordant and directionless to others. With his tuneless voice and broken-shard melodies, Shutoku seeks not to please but to provoke and amuse. Like contemporary art, Zazen Boys aren’t for everyone. For those whose curiosity is provoked however, Shutoku is as tireless on tour as he is in the studio. Crisscrossing the country, he’s sure to be herky-jerking across a stage sometime soon at a live house near you.

Shibuya Club Quattro, Feb 21. See concert listings (popular) for details.

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