Review Summary: Scenes of dying. Scenes of living. Welcome to the city, baby.
Tokyo. The world’s largest metropolis. A dizzying arrangement of highrises, cluttered neighborhoods, and narrow alleyways. Comprised of a sea of seemingly countless unconnected people, its balance hinges on careful cultural conformance; Japan is not a society that values the individual over the collective, and when you’re just one person in a city that large, you’re essentially a mere cog in an unfathomably enormous machine, one that overlooks everything and holds a firm but unconscious stake in your small troubles. The world’s a jungle wherever you call home, but something about the big city - in this case, Earth’s biggest - makes its threats all the more invasive...and its luster all the more appealing. Throughout Sappukei’s 39 minutes, a brutal man and his band provide a near-perfect soundtrack to the gritty experience of being molded by the big city, and it proves to be simultaneously abrasive and catchy, intimidating but inviting, and an outright kickass collection of indie rock.
Consider “Brutal Number Girl,” where lead vocalist Shutoku Mukai kicks off the record by leaving his native Fukuoka to head northbound. He’s absolutely pumped here, forceful pounding drums imposing their presence just as much as his cries of “Ever since 1995, I’ve believed in myself…we’re all doing fine!” The song is Sappukei’s hypothesis, effectively declaring that the pursuit of dreams in a land with so many chances will inevitably lead to better opportunities than the self-imposed cage of “home.” But immediately afterward the album’s early run begs to differ with this statement’s optimism; “Zegen vs Undercover” switches mood with shifty suspicious picking and jolty punctuated riffs. Its lyrics contain references to dead cops, pimps, foreigners, and crime scenes. It smoothly relays the air of distrust it sets out for, and this distrust permeates several of Mukai’s observations throughout the rest of the album. On “Sasu-You,” for instance, Mukai refers to strangers practicing tsujigiri (sword-testing) killings, and in “U-Rei” his tone mocks the perceived “manliness” of being native to Tokyo’s dangers and red lights. On the internal front, in the mysterious piano-led jazzy romp of “Urban Guitar Sayonara,” he mumbles about in a shaken swagger, comparing his ambitions for going to the city with his current state of drunkenness and shoddy idealism. The spacier harmonic-ladled title track also chimes back and forth with contemplation of the self and one’s surroundings, and contains possibly the most self-explanatory (and best) set of lyrics on the record.
And while those latter two tracks and “Yaruse Nakiko no Beat” do their part to illustrate a dreamier, more whimsical mood, straight-up post-hardcore bangers like “Sasu-You,” “Abstract Truth,” and “Trampoline Girl” bring a healthy dose of aggression to the table. In reality, most of Sappukei occupies a comfortable middle ground between lashing out and reining in. I’ve not yet heard the rest of Number Girl’s discography, but as far as this record is concerned, I think it’s safe to say that the band’s chemistry is perfectly in tune and never compromised. Dave Fridmann’s punchy production meshes extremely well the band’s restless energy, and each component of the songwriting itself - the groovy prominent rhythm sections, Hisako Tabuchi’s commanding guitar leads, and Mukai’s interplay between jittery yelps and melodic passages - feels precisely in place with one another. Also interesting to note is how few tracks have proper conventional endings. Their song structures are all intact, but they often (especially on the album’s first half) trail out with little regard for closing things off with a bang. When separated from context, this could be a detriment, but there’s a surprisingly well-calculated flow to how each song transitions into its successor, threading together each piece of Sappukei into an abundantly rewarding whole. The album’s recurring themes of urban decay and chasing dreams may be a little less than concrete, but the music that accompanies them is bold, cathartic, and almost constantly in your face, and you’d better believe the band has the energy and tact to pull it off with ease.
By record’s end, the city solidifies Mukai’s perception of himself as a brutal man, someone who can identify Tokyo as the battlefield it is while also accepting it’s the destination he’s always wanted to reach. He’s not the only one this rings true for either; language barrier notwithstanding (though I should mention each song has an English translation which will be linked below), Sappukei is an embrace of the chaotic city and the equally chaotic world that anyone who’s packed their bags and moved somewhere larger than life should be able to identify with. In its eleven tracks, you’ll find scenes of dying and scenes of living in equal measure, a decisively human fluctuation between doubt and confidence, and an experienced band portraying all the underlying conflict of adapting to a harsher environment with guts to spare. For Number Girl, the journey is the destination, and their particular destination is Tokyo. Bring the danger that comes with the territory on. They’re a brutal band. They can handle it.
