In operation in the Japanese underground for close to a decade, La Scene only now debut on vinyl courtesy of the always well attuned An’Archives. A duo, the group are made up of vocalist/bassist Saya and guitarist Eiji, and somewhat perfectly their name roughly translates as ‘naked body’, an entirely appropriately means of capturing their sparsely arranged take on that great Japanese tradition of transcendent psychedelic music. Futaishitsu Souzou is just the three songs long, and isn’t entirely psychedelic in the ways we might ordinarily associate with the now canonised ‘Japrock sampler’ bands (La Scene can be both noisy and distorted, but they don’t simply rage or commit solely to volume), but it does nonetheless channel a shared sensibility of highly emotive performance. Dedicated to the passing of a close friend, there is indeed an inescapable intensity and overt melancholy to their presentation that’s immensely compelling and - whisper it - authentic. There’s a little kinship with the work of Shizuka and maybe even Boris, though their touchstones are possibly a little further flung than their surroundings, making varying references to the Paisely Underground, slowcore and dreampop. Still, hang on in there to the final half of the second side and you’ll experience the group explode, a genuinely cathartic unleashing that shows they know just when and how to let go. If this isn’t a carrying of the torch, it might at least be the burning of a new flame. Magick and loss.
FFO: Shizuka, Boris, Cancer House, Grouper
