Review Summary: Who put the noise rock in my jazz piano?
Alright, no nonsense - we're going two-for-the-price-of-one: Betcover!!'s 2021 album
Jikan was and remains one of the most inspired and inspiring showcases of alternative rock I've heard since
In Rainbows. Everything about that record summed up the mix of burgeoning creativity and introspective complexity that the genre at its best does so well:
Jikans technical flair, its emotional sensitivity, and its tempering of palpable ambition with laser-focused songwriting hit me as a surprise treat and turned into a tenacious keeper. I'm still dazzled by the spread of guises across which these qualities find voice: the most clamorous rockers had their guitar assaults upstaged by pummelling techno; the "Climbing Up The Walls"-esque slowburner "piano" eschewed a violent cathartic release for its building anxiety for a glum bossa-nova coda that somehow felt twice as satisfying; the record's final moment erected the a skeleton of a build-up and accelerated as though for a sprint finish, only to stop abruptly in its tracks as though in realisation that it already stood so far ahead of the finishing line that there was simply no movement left to make - a bold gesture, but one that smacked of vindication. At a glance, you'd be forgiven for lumping these flourishes in with the stuff of stale Brixtonian pastiche, but mastermind Yanase Jiro's soulful delivery and sardonic lyricism were on hand dishing out spades of personality (the charming kind, thank you Windmill apologists) every step of the way.
Jikan doesn't quite have the consistency to hold up as a start-to-finish masterpiece, but its successive bullseyes could be high-water marks for any artist on the planet.
…which brings us to the timely follow-up
Tamago. Less a successor to
Jikan and more a haphazard pivot around its methodology, this girthy new record calls us to question half the things we once thought Betcover!! were so good at; in their place lie a bold range of prospective replacement strengths, the jury for which remains out. What are these great changes? Well, where the Jiro of
Jikan was easy to visualise as a tortured artist thrashing out novellas with the kind of attention to detail you could slice bread with, here we encounter him lounging with his feet up, blowing up balloons just to find their bursting point. Betcover!! once approached bombast hand-in-hand with skittishness to be deployed as a foil to pensive tranquility, yet here it seems to be a bar they are hell-bent on ratcheting upwards at every turn. This is clear enough from the outset: opener "Bosen" (1 (Mothership)) rolls out the carpet in leisurely fashion only to give way to bursts of distortion and off-kilter stop-starts, panning out once as a harder thread to follow and an easier affair to nod along to than yesteryear's Betcover!!. However, the full scope of things rests on the bookending pillars "Choujin" (2 (Superman)) and "Tamago" (9 (Egg)), both of which cut themselves the slack for protracted builds and composite structures. The former is perhaps more overwhelming than it is impressive, but the latter finds itself armed with one of Jiro's most haunting refrains to date.This rides a gorgeous set of brooding dynamics through multiple well-deserved victory laps, landing a square highlight. Curiously, the album's other peaks tend away from its belaboured epics and sit within its scattergun moments of excess: "Kabe" (3 (Wall))'s Midori-esque pairing of frenetic guitar skronk with smooth jazz piano, and the rollicking grooves that drive "Ika to Tako no Samba" (5 (Samba for Squid and Octopus)) are comfortable affirmation of this. Those looking for something more refined will find much to love in the single "Aijin" (6 (Lover)), which waxes through several waves of sentimental overlap before tying itself together in one of Betcover!!'s trademark affirmational codas. Much to love, much to ponder.
All things considered,
Tamago is an entertaining and occasionally moving record that taps roguishly against alt-rock's boundaries without straying too far from with central appeal. There are points where scope comes close to overshadowing substance, but Jiro et al acquit themselves with enough talent and tastefulness to twist this extravagance to their advantage at practically every turn. Whilst I found it initially disappointing that the band had jettisoned the mechanics utilised so magnificently for
Jikan, their willingness to reposition themselves so swiftly and steadily is proof enough that they remain ones to watch. Good eggs, good basket.
