Twenty-first-century society subscribes to a culture of
shortcuts. So much information is thrown at individuals at any
given time that people often feel they have no choice but to
describe things they’re unsure of through generalizations and
categorical dismissals. Music is no different, as musicians and
bands are often described as having, say, the swirling guitars of
My Bloody Valentine, or, more often, the soft-loud dynamics of the
Pixies.
New York’s Asobi Seksu (which will perform on Friday at
the Echo) is harder to classify, if only because there isn’t
really a commonly accepted precedent for hybridized Japanese and
English lyrics.
Asobi Seksu
Friday, 9 p.m. The Echo
“It’s OK if people don’t know what I’m
saying, because I can’t even understand some of my favorite
musicians,” said vocalist/keyboardist Yuki Chikudate, who
sings in both English and Japanese. “It’s always funny
to hear people ask what we’re saying, because we all listen
to this band called Dengue Fever and their singer is a Cambodian
pop singer. None of us have any idea what they’re saying, but
we sing along to their CD in the car all the time.”
Asobi Seksu is currently on tour in support of its newest album,
“Citrus,” which was released in May on Friendly Fire
Records. For a band that hails from the pressure-cooker atmosphere
of the New York music scene, the chance to get out and play for
unfamiliar crowds nationwide is a welcome one.
“Getting a room full of people (at a show) in New York is
a big deal; whether they sound enthusiastic or scream and dance,
that’s a whole different thing,” Chikudate said.
“When you travel to venues in places where people don’t
see you as much, you’ll see an enthusiasm you don’t get
in your hometown.”
Chikudate mentioned a show in Seattle where people were so
excited to have Asobi Seksu playing and were so enthusiastic and
into the performance that the band had no choice but to come out
and play an encore, something it isn’t used to doing.
“We’re at a level where we’re just shocked
when there’s a call for an encore,” Chikudate said.
“We think, “˜What did we do?’ and we just go back
out like, “˜Really? Well, OK!'”
Like any independent band in the modern music scene, the
Internet was instrumental in getting Asobi Seksu exposure in areas
outside of New York and even the U.S. Chikudate credits it with
getting the band exposure in Europe and Japan in a much quicker
manner than would have been possible a decade ago. However,
Chikudate also realizes the downsides of the Internet’s easy
access to music and artists.
“The fact that everything is so accessible at all times
makes it a little boring; you don’t have to work as hard to
find music that you like,” Chikudate said in reference to the
easy availability of music on download sites like iTunes. “I
hate my iPod, because everything starts to look the same and
I’ll just scroll through and not even know what to make of
it. Things lose their personality or meaning sometimes when
they’re so overexposed on the Internet.”
One thing Chikudate feels that is increasingly missing from
modern music is a sense of a physical product and ownership. After
all, as Chikudate noted, downloading songs and albums online often
doesn’t even include album art or songbooks and liner notes.
Rather than sitting on iTunes, Napster or some other download
service, Chikudate prefers to do things the old-fashioned way.
“Finding something by chance (in a record store) is a
great feeling since you can’t just sample it all and you end
up buying it on faith,” Chikudate said. “Going to
record stores, shopping around for a band and trying to find their
next album causes you to develop more of a connection to their
music.”