Just Can’t Help It
Talking about Shena Ringo and now, Tokyo Jihen, is something I find very difficult, and even the reasons for its difficulty are themselves hard to articulate1. For one thing, although my love, yes, love for the Jihen is a constant companion, my enthusiasm comes and goes.
This waxing and waning is a kind of coping strategy. I don’t live in Japan anymore, don’t have easy access to fan club swag and concerts, and lack of these things gnaws at me. So during those times between albums and concert DVDs, I have to suppress my irrational fanboy desire, lest my mind be consumed.
But when a new album comes out, the fanboy is back. And when a new concert DVD comes out, well. My entire musical existence is realigned. This has happened before. So when Brad writes about the new Tokyo Jihen concert DVD in a favorable manner, I pay attention. And I dig out the credit card, and I remit to CDJapan one (1) soul. I wasn’t using it for anything, anyway.
And now I have the “Just Can’t Help It” concert DVD, and it was worth it.
I don’t even know where to start. Brad’s coverage of the concert footage is comprehensive; I encourage interested parties to check out the rest of his blog as well; the man is an articulate correspondent, and Jihen fans are fortunate indeed for his textual largesse. I will not be doing a song-by-song breakdown; his is very good.
Shena Ringo is a goddess of rock. She is a mad Virgin Mary or a Guan Yin, and her music enriches us all simply by existing in the world. It is tempting to imagine that her manic ardor had somehow cooled since ending her solo career, but that simply isn’t the case. Her art has become less self-indulgent since the epochal Kuri no Hana album, yes, but the goddess is still there, and she has some pipes. Her voice on Just Can’t Help It is the best it’s ever been, and she ranges from shy, coy twittering to bluesy growling and expansive fermata with effortless aplomb. She is at the top of her technical game.
Yet it often happens that technical excellence comes at the expense of raw emotion; even I am guilty of characterizing the Jihen’s work in those terms, when compared to the solo years. This DVD lays such comparisons to rest. Tegami alone dispenses with the idea that there is somehow less raw feeling here. There is simply so much musical talent and so much emotion on stage that it’s nearly impossible to focus on both.
I just don’t know how else to put it, but when she sings the enigmatic Genjitsu wo Warau, the ardent Juusui Negai, and the maudlin, inspiring Superstar, I puzzle, quail, and soar—respectively, and it’s a function of the musician in me appreciating the performance, while the human part glories in raw feeling.
This sounds like scandalous overstatement. Perhaps to some it is. But despite the fact that I may come off as an ironic, disaffected hipster at times, the truth, when it comes to Jihen, is that I have no time for irony or detachment. I love this music artlessly; my heart loves this music, and to see it performed makes my life measurably better.
But I don’t know if other people will feel this way about Shena Ringo and now, her band. I’ve had to resort to sappy sentimentality to attempt to get my point across, and even then it is imperfectly conveyed. Perhaps this is why I have such a difficult time discussing music with people who don’t at least understand why I would love her work so much. It’s as magical and ineffable as an irrational number, and no matter how many times I listen I always find something more.
I just can’t help it.
1 Yes, ha ha, I know I said I was a good writer in the very last entry. Shut up. I am trying.