The Japanese, they’ve got this showmanship thing down. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if you can find a band from the Land of the Rising Sun (outside of shoegaze/drone/genres which are deliberately understated from a performance point of view) that stands around and glumly strums, plucks and taps away on their instruments looking sullen and otherwise utterly defeated, I’ll turn over this byline to you that very day.
It’s as though every musically-inclined Japanese parent placed an X Japan DVD (or VHS tape, depending on their vintage) in their kids’ cribs and they absorbed the glitter and hairspray-infused sweat-soaked essence through their soft little skulls. In short, the bands from the country that gave us Boredoms don’t do boredom.
I go to a lot of shows in Taiwan. I’m a so-called music journalist, go figure. If I have a gripe, and I have many, but if I had to cherry pick the most common one from that place in my head just behind where I’m sure I could ice-pick out my perpetual tinnitus hum, it would be that there are too many bands that look onstage exactly the way they look offstage. Offstage they’re often shy, introverted. They’re musicians. They’re supposed to be a bit off; a tad on the socially awkward side. Being a mite mentally unhinged is often the force that both nourishes and destroys.
Photo courtesy of MYBM.
Then they get up on stage, the place of grand transformation. The sacred patch of plywood, metal framing and beer and bloodstained carpet where mere mortals become...well, still mortals, but cooler. The crowd stands momentarily rapt, ready to take their cues from the men and/or women who are court jester, grand inquisitor, shaman and sex symbol, geek and god, all in one.
Except it doesn’t happen. There is no moment of metamorphosis. Only a shrug of the shoulders and a perfunctory sway of the audience from side to side. A few nods of the head to the uninspired beat as the band fails to transcend their everyday selves to become that which all great bands have the ability to morph into — a Pied Piper of souls. During the songs, they might be someone else. A leader of women and men. A fearless field general. A mix of Wendy O. Williams and Walter White. But when the music stops, the veil not meant to be lifted goes all the way up. The welcome illusion is shattered.
Now, this doesn’t all rest on the shoulders of the bands. Part of the problem of late seems to be the audiences. I went to three gigs the other week in Taipei, on three consecutive nights, wherein the bands went off, really giving it their all, and the so-called fans responded in all their cross-armed malaise. It wasn’t that they weren’t into it, it just seemed that nobody was ready or willing to be the one to put spark to tinder. And yes, I’m aware it’s not really part of the culture to stand out brazenly in the crowd — to lose your mind in public. Unless, of course, you’re a member of Taiwan’s legislature.
The result? A lot of quiet interludes. A lot of awkward speech making by front men and women in rooms filled floor to ceiling with all-consuming silence. A few halfhearted whoops and yells. Some half-conscious, self-conscious headbanging.
Among the independent music scenes of Asia, Taipei is quickly going from a city that never sleeps to the city that falls asleep mid-riff. A tipping point looms. A point where international bands visit Taiwan and return home not to sing its praises, but to speak of its maddeningly blase crowds. And we need those world-class acts to push the scene forward — to set the bar for the kids who go to the show, get their minds blown and go home to immediately start bands of their own. If audiences show up but aren’t “there,” Taipei could start to fall off a lot of international tour itineraries.
So, how did we get from Japan to a long diatribe on the recently beheld shortcomings of the Taipei scene? Because there’s a band from Fukuoka that has made its love for this country so patently obvious in recent years that it would be a lowdown dirty shame to give them anything less than a raucous welcome back. NOAHTIC are making their fourth trip to our shores since first touring Taiwan in 2013. The band plays a mix of J-rock, heavy metal and emo that strikes a chord with Japanophiles, of which there are many on Isla Formosa. Ever since their first sojourn, NOAHTIC has been besieged with outpourings of support from their raucous Taiwanese fans.
“Every day we’re receiving some messages from fans, ‘When will you back to Taiwan?’” says drummer Tatsuya Yagami. “That’s why we want to keep returning often.”
In terms of audience reaction, there are some similarities between Japan and Taiwan, with the overwhelming silence following a song’s conclusion being one of the most glaring examples. A crowd that was circle pitting one moment comes to a screeching halt as soon as the last note fades, as though some maleficent black spell has been lifted. On a tour to France, Yagami and co saw the other side of the proverbial coin.
“Audiences were more excited than Japanese audiences. Children, elderly, everybody was dancing,” he says.
Dancing at a concert. Imagine that. So, here’s hoping NOAHTIC’s fourth run up and down Taiwan’s west coast will be another memorable one for the band. As Yagami says, they are grateful for the support Taiwan has given them thus far, and are eager to show their appreciation by doing what they do best — leaving it all up there on that stage.
“We’re loving Taiwan and the Taiwanese people. Always they have given us their smiles, power and happiness. We want to repay the favor.”
■ NOAHTIC’s Taiwan tour in support of the release of their second album, Reclaim the New Dimension, continues tonight at Revolver, 1-2 Roosevelt Road, Sec 1, Taipei (台北市中正區羅斯福路一段1-2號). Tickets are NT$300 at the door with one drink. Doors open at 8:30pm and the show starts at 9pm. Support comes from BB Bomb, Plan-D and Beware the Sky Falling (天空樂園).
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