The Incapacitants + Aube

A dark, cool night and heavy rainfall created the perfect backdrop for the opening night of Alchemy Records’ week-long showcase in Shibuya, Tokyo. Featuring performances by some of the biggest Japanese musicians in the noise/experimental genre, the event also served as a tribute of sorts to the Nihilist Spasm Band. Considered the first noise band, the collective formed in London, Ontario, Canada in 1965 and began releasing music on Alchemy in the early ’90s. During each day of the showcase, a documentary highlighting the group’s rise to prominence entitled What About Me was screened at the Uplink Factory, followed by a live concert. At the end of the week, a show was held featuring the Nihilist Spasm Band and Alchemy owner Jojo Hiroshige. To get things started though, Alchemy enlisted the talents of Aube and the Incapacitants. With members of the Nihilist Spasm Band seated in the small, cozy theatre, Akifumi Nakajima, better known as Aube, sat down behind his laptop and several other gadgets. Heavily influenced by space rock, each of Aube’s pieces began with swirling, hypnotic sounds. As they progressed, loud bits of distorted noise were introduced at various intervals to create wonderful sonic landscapes. Aube’s 40-minute set saw him taking the 60 or so individuals in attendance on a beautiful trip with many highs and lows. One minute, Aube would be tweaking his tools to emit loud, high-pitched, ear-splitting sounds and then a second later he would stop, engulfing the room in complete silence for a few moments before starting again. The assembled crowd of hipsters in their late 20s and early 30s sat quietly, watching intently and nodding approvingly. The last of his 10-minute-plus compilations began by lulling attendees off with soft, spacey music before slamming them back with several minutes of angry distortion. Things briefly became spacey again and then there was nothing as he looked up from behind the computer, bowed his head and retreated to the side of the theatre while the crowd quietly clapped. Although very interesting, the only problem with his show was that at times it was a little boring to watch. His music was challenging and original, but most people can only stare at someone sitting with their face glued to a computer screen for so long before their attention starts to shift elsewhere. The real treat of the night was the Incapacitants. After giving the crowd a short 20-minute breather, in which some nice quiet jazz was played, the trio unleashed an improvised set of noise that was at times downright frightening. From the feedback-filled opening to the sudden exhaustion-filled conclusion, the three middle-aged men gave everything they had, playing with more energy and passion than most musicians half their age. While Aube’s show had many ups and downs, the Incapacitants’ was one continuous high. At times it felt like being stuck in a bad dream. The eerily beautiful noise being made a mere ten feet away reminded me of the sound of confusion one might hear in one’s mind while searching for a way out of the madness. The show began with all three members tuning their respective pieces of equipment while creating feedback in the process. All seemed like mild-mannered individuals (they hold day jobs in banks and government offices), but when the spastic spurts of noise began to quickly be introduced to the distorted feedback they became a band possessed. Guitarist Kazuo Imai, who had a spreading knife under his strings and was playing with a violin bow, looked like he was going into convulsions as he attacked his helpless instrument with calculated abandon. To the right of him, Fumio Kosakai attempted to match his intensity by wildly thrashing around while holding some kind of small round device. About halfway through their 40-minute set, the feedback-soaked insanity began to take on more of a psychedelic feel. Screeching bits of noise were still prevalent in the music, but they developed more of a spacey, trippy undertone. The crowd stared on with fascination as Imai dropped his bow and picked up a long piece of metal chain. Wrapping part of it around the strings, he rolled the rest of it into a bowl and ran it back and forth over the strings, creating many unique sounds. Meanwhile, Toshiji Mikawa, who had been hiding inconspicuously behind a table filled with pedals and various dials, began to violently shake and move the table as he adjusted the knobs. Playing with their eyes tightly closed, it appeared as if the group were wincing in pain while creating the powerful music and ridding themselves of their own personal demons. Watching all three became a task in itself. With so much unfolding before the audience’s eyes, it was difficult at times to be able to take in exactly what everyone was doing, let alone comprehend the music. Deciding that he needed more space to move around, Kosakai made his way into the crowd. Drawing smiles from the audience, he jumped around and contorted his body into as many positions as he could while shaking and screaming into the round object that he clutched in his fist. As Kosakai eventually collapsed from fatigue, the room fell completely silent, watching him lay in a heap on the floor before one last bout of noise erupted from Mikawa, awaking the attendees from their dreams. Still reeling from what they just witnessed, many left with a dazed look on their face. Luckily they were quickly snapped back into reality by the cold winter rain thrashing down from the heavens outside. They were no doubt kept warm knowing that they had just seen something truly incredible. Originally, I was disappointed by the lack of visuals at the show. Seeing as it took place in a movie theater, it only seemed logical that the two acts would want to utilize the full capabilities of the venue by projecting short films and images behind themselves while they played. Upon careful consideration, though, perhaps not having visuals was a good thing. Although they may have helped make Aube’s set slightly more interesting, I think it might have been too much for people to bear during the Incapacitants’ performance. With attendees’ ears, eyes, and minds already reeling from the overwhelming noises being manufactured on stage, anything else may have resulted in mass mental breakdowns from total sensory overload.