This list is spoiling me. For as much as I pursued this column to open up my awareness of the best New Wave and maybe find a few new favorite bands, I was getting used to names that I was fairly familiar with. The previous four especially were names like The B-52s and A-Ha who did a lot of work that has been with me my whole life. I was getting too comfortable diving into the familiar that I thought the midway point of this list would be a completely recognizable group of names. Just as everything was falling too much into place, the assignment called for me to cover the Japan album “Tin Drum.”
There is always some hesitation about pressing play on those new bands. I’ve gotten stuck in a rut of believing that half of these bands could just not be my speed. For as much as Pylon or Orange Juice are innovative, there is a struggle to want to revisit them. Something about having a British band called Japan struck me as insincere. Was this going to be a dated act that didn’t appeal to me?
Suddenly, I realized that this was how it must’ve felt to listen to New Wave in the late 70s. The whole intent of the genre was to be against the grain. There needed to be some level of experimentation that challenged our notion of what rock music could do. While a lot of bands covered in Make It New fit nicely into the box, I think it’s important to have groups like Gary Numan and Buggles who force you to come to them. They cannot be totally accessible for fear of losing some greater artistic integrity. You’re either going to see the vision and want to subscribe, or it’s going to be so esoteric that you’re going to walk away and never come back.
To me, that is what it felt like listening to “Tin Drum” for the first time. This was neither the greatest album that I heard, nor was it a complete waste. To provide an example, I imagine it’s like how radical Devo’s first album was. You’ve never heard anything like it before and was confused when it zigged during a zag. Japan isn’t necessarily going for something as oddball, but even now the only band from the list that they remind me of is Siouxsie and the Banshees, which even then is a stretch.
A small hesitation with giving myself over to Japan may have been the name. The band Japan isn’t even from Japan. They’re a bunch of British musicians who came together in South London. They had all attended the same school in the early 1970s where they formed a nameless group. Japan was a moniker that less had a meaning and more that it was a placeholder. By 1974, they were playing gigs and filling out the line-up. In 1977, they came in second at a talent contest from Hansa Records that lead to a recording contract. Their original sound was guitar-based funk, though they evolved into glam rock before landing on a new wave sound.
In 1978, they released their debut album “Adolescent Sex.” Among their early signifiers was an androgynous glam rock image. It failed to take off in Britain, but would quickly find footing in Japan. Throughout their career, they would have modest success in their homeland, but found Japan to be a welcoming alternative. It could’ve been that a lot of their work paid tribute to the country, such as the 1979 track “Life In Tokyo.”
By 1981, they would release their fifth and final album “Tin Drum.” While I cannot speak for how their sound evolved over the previous releases, by this point they were completely embracing a New Wave sound that was considered unmarketable. Had the album been released years later, there’s a good chance that it wouldn’t have been as successful for a whole host of reasons. The most noteworthy is that “Tin Drum” featured a mix of traditional instrumentation with elements of Far Eastern influences. Writer Paul Grimstad referred to the album as “mannered cubist pop” while others praised it for the minimalist technique. Keyboardist Richard Barbieri would say it was “completely original.” Compared to a lot of New Wave bands of the time, it definitely was.
Something that feels disarming from a modern listening perspective is hearing British musicians play Eastern-influenced music. “The Art of Parties” caught me off guard not because it does anything offensive but more because I worried it was going to be an example of cultural appropriation. Was this going to be full of cliché techniques that were dated and hokey, existing in the same grey area as “Kung Fu Fighting”? Given their actual success in Japan, I’m more willing to believe that they were being sincere. Even the later involvement of Ryuichi Sakamoto makes my initial doubt easier to work past. Whatever they were doing was something more sincere. This isn’t The Vapors using “Turning Japanese” less as reverence and more as a tired stereotype.
A big difference is that Japan as a group was more interested in narrative songs. For as much as I find “Tin Drum” to be dated and a bit slow, I have to respect how dedicated they are to a singular vision. To me, this is the type of listening experience that rewards full immersion. Every soundscape is produced to transport the listener to a world that is far from the western ideology. It’s a fusion that makes you feel the enlightenment of the core musicians, empathetically trying to connect with the sound. I don’t know that they get to something totally provocative, but there are points that I begin to see the greater vision.
The most noteworthy is “Ghosts.” Throughout the haunting melody, there is an understanding of singer David Sylvian’s personal turmoil. He sings of feeling lost and hopeless, and I buy it. While I don’t know that this is the most accessible New Wave single, it did help to gain the band attention and develop something meaningful.
I also like how there’s an element of pop within the larger vision. Even if this is often a meditative album, Japan sometimes breaks free and has some clever dancing motifs. I like how well everything compliments each other and results in a work of art that feels otherworldly. It’s a branching of east and west sensibilities that suggests a unification that very few bands I’ve covered have really captured. I even enjoy “Still Life in Mobile Homes” for how it mixes western commentary with a melancholic hook.
Unfortunately, I think by the back half I’m a bit disinterested in what the band is doing. “Sons of Pioneers” is a bit too slow and lacks any forward momentum. Like Siouxsie and the Banshees, it’s an atmospheric track that builds to its theme. However, I don’t know that the elements at play really come together, and I was left especially bored. Given that “Visions of China” does little to carry a forward energy for the final three tracks, I think this is an album that I admire more than enjoy. Maybe after a few listens I will get on its wavelength, but for now it’s the esoteric corner of New Wave that should be recognized, but this is at best a semi-successful example of experimentation.
Which isn’t to say that I think the record lacks substance. I think tracks like “Cantonese Boy” are hitting on very important subjects. I’m not entirely sure why a British band would care all that much about the Chinese Red Army, but I accept it as a piece of activist rock in a storytelling vein.
If nothing else, I am disappointed that this is Japan’s last record because of how it’s more promising than great. While some may love this record, I do think it’s become more of a relic from a modern standpoint. Still, I want to hear bands who have played with this style and made something more organic and new. I want to believe that Japan has lead to a wave of pop-rock that is challenging the masses with techniques that are uncommon in western media. Given the rise of genres like K-Pop as an international commodity, I want to believe the modern Japan would’ve been a bigger hit, even if nothing on “Tin Drum” is necessarily ready to top the charts.
Ironically, the band would find a late-career success following this album. Their back catalog sold significantly and they would produce several Top 10 singles. However, their unique sound meant that they also never really developed a greater cultural footprint. Outside of a reunion from 1989 to 1991, the band would slowly disband. They would, however, release an album with the exact same line-up under the name Rain Tree Crow.
Part of me remains curious to listen to their other work for a variety of reasons. While most bands I cover had more work that they evolved into, it’s tragic that Japan’s best work came as their last. Without knowing what else is in their catalog, I’m left hoping that the rest is this experimental and sometimes strange. Maybe it will be more primitive, but I have to believe they had something else unique and that this wasn’t their sole gasp at greatness. For what it’s worth, “Tin Drum” isn’t a terrible record. I’m also not sure if it had much of an influence on the larger pop culture, but I would like to believe they did. After all, they were working with people like Sakamoto. They had a strong presence in Japan that could’ve opened them to some wild corners of even more ambitious music. Maybe it’s there in solo work and I just have to explore.
With that said, Japan isn’t a band I have a lot of feelings about. Outside of their interesting sound, I don’t know that they have a lot that sticks with me. They are what I want out of New Wave in that they challenge the idea of what rock music can be. However, that comes with the reality that not everything produced within it will be for me. I’m going to hold out hope that this record grows on me because it sounds promising. Maybe that’s their greatest gift. They went out on their most acclaimed work, meaning that we would perpetually want more. That’s a craving that can never be fully taken away. Now that’s fun.
Coming Up Next: The Bangles – “All Over the Place” (1984)
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