There are really no other equivalents to these three albums brought to the world by Toshi Bando. Perhaps some private press albums recorded in Japan (e.g., Enough, Deep End, Memorial Art, Actors & Pilotis) and maybe recordings by the somewhat popular Japanese band Woodpecker could be the closest comparison points. Surprisingly, all three albums are included in theWonder Ground Record Guide -a Japanese reference work on Japanese private press records. What makes these albums sung in Japanese truly stand apart is that they were recorded by Japanese-Americans in Los Angeles during the late ‘70s, but with an overall out-of-time sound much closer to the ‘60s.
While the music is front and center, their backstory still remains pretty much a complete mystery. The quest to know more of the historical context and what lies behind the curtains are certainly impelling factors. These vast unknowns may heighten the allure and intrigue, but by and large the reality is always different from the imagined with attendant stories that frequently exceed expectations. It would be an honor to present the perspectives of the participants, but I try to proceed with caution as I wish to respect people's privacy in this current distraction culture where privacy and solitude are given little to no consideration. Sometimes the best (and only) approach may be to “Fly into the Mystery” like the great Modern Lovers song and just write your own perspectives in the larger and continual search for understanding.
Toshi Bando was the prime mover and unifying factor behind these three records under three different group names: Kisetsu-Fu, Flap and Silver Lake. Not only did he compose, play (guitar & blues harp), and sing on these albums, he also produced them as well. Each release featured rotating personnel and the musicians listed on Discogs apparently only ever appeared on these three albums. Meanwhile, I can only fathom which basements or garages in Monterey Park his bands practiced in. Maybe there were other rehearsal places in perhaps Alhambra or Eagle Rock that certainly shifted with the circumstances of the times and individual situations. On a similar note, I can only speculate where they played and what types of venues. Where were the performance stages in Monterey Park, San Gabriel, Little Tokyo or Gardena? Was there any type of Japanese-American music circuit in the late ‘70s? Did they perhaps venture into Madame Wong's in old Chinatown and open for Japanese new wave bands like the Plastics (who did play at Madame Wong's as briefly spotted in this PBS Artbound documentary). Many mysteries abound, but we can be certain that these once buried records can now be heard thanks to enthusiasts transferring their rare vinyl and uploading them to YouTube. The time has come to further explore the sounds of what could be best described as Transpacific folk-rock psych.
All three of Bando’s albums offer highly melodic original songs embodied with Japanese musical inflections and sensibilities. The music converges both Western and Eastern influences to express Bando’s singular vision along with a larger Nisei and Shōwa-era outlook. These most welcomed consistencies flow through all three of these albums that each have their own distinctive aspects. The common thread is these records sound way more ‘60s than the decade they were actually made in, while the music is refreshingly countervailing to the hegemonic arena rock that dominated America during the late ‘70s. To be more specific, Bando enhances his folk framework built upon the bedrock foundation of the Beatles with some well chosen ‘50s & ‘60s rock & pop and blues elements.
1977’s Kisetsu-Fu – Seasonal Wind=季節風 was released only four years after Yellow Pearl (which is considered one of the earliest Asian-American records along with Dakila’s 1972’s self-titled album released on Epic Records and sung in Tagalog). The illuminating record, with a stunning label design, is most indebted to the Beatles and their solo projects, while also reflecting attractive influences ranging from American golden oldies to Japanese campus folk and perhaps traces of Okinawan folk.
Seasonal Wind was recorded & mixed at Dirk Dalton Recording Studio A, in Santa Monica. 土佐の海 (“Sea of Tosa”) is possibly referring to the Tosa Province of Shikoku, which is the smallest of the four main islands of Japan. The song is delivered in John Lennon/George Harrison fashion and augmented with a Dylan-esque harmonica. A downcast enka-like song tinged with the blues and flute follows under the apt title 悲しい顔は似合わない (“Sad Face”) and is moody in a good way. そこを行くのは (“Hey is that You?”) rocks out in that Beatles mode when they were trying to go back to basics with “Back in the USSR.” Ken Miyoshi (who would later appear on the Silver Lake record) drives the saxophone before Toshi Bando soon merges on the musical freeway with harmonica playing that catches up to the saxophone-making this sound like a Fleshtones song. 雨が降る (“Rain”) provides more of that solo George Harrison sound filtered through a Japanese sensibility, while the minor keyed and impassioned plea of 福?草が咲いたら(“Pheasant's Eye”) recalls “Now or Never” from Approximately Infinite Universe by Yoko Ono.
Side two starts with yang energy. 君さえいれば (“As Long as You Are Here”) hits hard with its bluesy edges and evokes the Japanese GS (Group Sounds) bands when they started going heavy. Synthesizer and electric guitar player Yutaka Uda comes to the fore with some copious wah-wah. 春はもうすぐ (“Spring Will Come Soon”) is top-tier first-rate pop that takes off on a dash driven by a chanking rhythm guitar and Beatles-esque harmonica fills. Next, 秋は淋しい(“Lonely is the Autumn”) is a yearning campus folk number at its foundation, embellished with blues runs and topped with a lovely flute solo. There is a real Eiichi Ohtaki/Niagara slant to 砂に書いたイニシャル (“Initials Written in the Sand”)-a lovely ‘50s styled song complete with triplets that would sound perfect coming from Sony pocket transistor radio. The album closes with 誕生日 (“Birthday”) that has Bando channeling his inner-John Lennon and some subdued blues guitar playing before Ken Miyoshi adds the exclamation marks of xylophone and recorder.
Flap (1978) is a much more succinct and spartan affair presented with a much clearer production. In fact, the fidelity soars above the somewhat submerged sounding Seasonal Wind. On an interesting sidetrack, Flap was recorded at Ascot Recording Studios in Hollywood by Jim Rayton, which was where Instant Orange also recorded two of their EPs with the same engineer. (Instant Orange were an exceptional yet unsung folk-rock band from San Bernardino, California, who were influenced by the Byrds and Love!) The studio appears to still be active today in Burbank with Jim Rayton remaining at the helm. The group had truly come into its own to offer a truly distinctive sound on Flap (TBP-02).
The biggest difference is the inclusion of female vocals with the arrival of Kikuko Murakami who brought in an entirely new dimension to their sound. Murakami’s lead vocals are like the sun shining through the marine layer on their poppier songs and also lend a dreamy quality and otherworldly feel on the slower building numbers. From the limited information I could gather, her previous singing experience was with the Alhambra High School choir. She transitions well to the pop-rock idiom and proves competent singing in a variety of styles. The album starts strong and only gets better with its mostly sunny, bright and catchy melodic songs. Murakami’s vocals grace the lovely “Summer Day” that blends well with the ‘50s percolating guitar. From this number, it does sound like Bando was definitely familiar with the legendary Eiichi Ohtaki and Niagara (f)all stars. Yoko Ono and her greatest album Approximately Infinite Universe are evoked once again in the song “Letter” with its stark arrangement and strident tone. “We Can’t Go Back” brings the fuzz in a way that deserves to be heard by musician, author and Japanophile Julian Cope. The instrumental innovations of Eleki, Takeshi Terauchi and the Ventures also figure into their guitar tones and sounds. “Blue Sky” is a lovely strummy instrumental that seems to draw from the hushed third Velvet Underground album emerging from the Shadows.
Arriving like the first brisk winds of autumn, “Red Umbrella” is probably their poppiest number and falls somewhere along the folk-pop parade as the We Five, the Seekers, the Red Birds. “Love Song” showcases Murakami’s vocals before giving way to a “Pale Blue Eyes”-like epic guitar solo that lingers on like the sun setting over the Pacific. Coincidentally the album ends with a spiraling song titled “Sunset.” It’s an epic closer that reflects the indelible impact of “House of the Rising Sun” with intertwined guitars that crunch, bend and sting. Flap is my favorite of Bando’s three albums for the arrival of Murakami, the austere production and spare, but sweeping folk-pop-rock songs. Overall, it’s an attractive display of Bando’s ultra-melodic sensibilities with the ‘50s pop & rock and early ‘60s folk and instrumental elements coming to the fore.
Silver Lake-Affection (TBP-03)
The first aspect that jumps out is one of the most striking and intriguing color covers ever. Could it be emblematic of the band feeling displaced and marginalized in the transient culture of Los Angeles? Appropriately, the album was recorded at 302 Recording Studio, in the Silver Lake area of Los Angeles from February to December 1979 and released in 1980. Interspersed are atmospheric sounds (e.g., crashing thunder to start the album, seagulls & surf, winter winds) lending a mysterious undercurrent that there may be a seasonal concept and/or a thematic statement on the cycles of life coursing throught the record. The songs alternate between male and female vocals that would later be employed on Double Fantasy. The musician line-up is reconfigured (except for the vocalists and the drumming & keyboard work of Ken Miyoshi, who also contributed to the Kisetsu Fu album). The songs are presented with an overall thickened and murkier sound (in comparison to the sparkling clear production of Flap) with the vocals for the most part engulfed and subsumed by the music. Overall, the album casts a more solemn and melancholy tone than the two previous albums. “Mou Hikitomerarenai” is a vehicle for Kikuko Murakami with fuzz runs that rival the biker instrumentals of Davie Allan & the Arrows or the aforementioned Takeshi Terauchi. Songs like “Shashin” (Picture) are delivered with overall blusier hues and smokier tones that seemingly indicate that the group had moved on from coffee cafes and Obon festivals to cabarets and nightclubs. Murakami’s smoldering vocals lean more towards blues rocking Maki Asakawa than poppy Seiko Matsuda, while demonstrating her adeptness with singing in a variety of styles. On one of their rare duets “Dakedo Emily,” Bando and Murakami achieve a stirring vocal blend that commands attention. “Aoi Kaze” is an acoustic driven number with baroque acoustical runs that seem inspired by “Classical Gas.” The pronounced fuzz returns on the dashing “Owari Soshite” along with the appearance of trumpet. Jazzy chord changes, blues bends and heartfelt singing from Bando of “Kigatsukeba Itsumo Ashita” brings the album to a strong finish. Message in a C.C. Lemon Bottle
With their deep ‘60s influences and somewhat mysterious origins, these records live up to their private press designation, current reputation and stratospheric prices. Fittingly, Toshi Bando remains an enigmatic figure who remains busy with his gardening. It is fortunate that the records can be easily accessed on YouTube, as now more people can hear them than ever before. Still, many questions abound that could help fill in gaps. I would love to hear first-person primary accounts and recollections from any of the participants to clear up some major blind spots on the history of the groups and gain an overall better understanding of the context of the times. Keeping the mystery intact does heighten the allure, intrigue and perhaps the prices of these three obscure records, which were limited to begin with in their initial press runs.
Nonetheless, the music speaks for itself and close listening will reveal Bando’s attempts to reconcile and express both the melancholic and the glorious aspects of life as well as the chasms between. On a larger level, Bando was able to sonically connect the Far East with the Far West on these three groundbreaking records. The recordings do represent a significant achievement as Bando and the musicians helped usher in a new era of music for Los Angeles and Japanese-Americans. Whether Bando receives belated historical recognition is still to be determined, however he definitely made waves as these could even be considered the most remarkable Japanese-American records ever recorded between the mountains, freeways and the vast Pacific.
