Asobi Seksu at ULU

Asobi Seksu at ULU

21 July, 2008
by: Sween

NYC's Asobi Seksu have variously been described as masters of weaving drone with melody; the fuzzy successors of My Bloody Valentine; and sounding like, "Chinese lanterns lighting up paper swans." Lofty praise indeed. After seeing them, I'd shy away from mentioning the buzzwords Asobi must be sick of; 'shoegaze', 'dream-pop', anything about Japan, and a certain iconic 90s band whose 14th February was somewhat violent.

ULU hacks of a London students union. Sticky floors, linoleum walls, no distinctive fittings - It is a testament to the needs of the fully functioning student; alcohol, loud noise, and maximum grip underfoot. Simple – effective.

The support, Ulrich Schnauss, traversed the stage in an unpretentious way. Diverse instruments are to be found in his arsenal, and he manipulates all of them adeptly – mechanically, even. This steady but diluted river of sound eventually makes you feel that you are watching a session musician and his toys do what they are programmed to do, and nothing more. From the bar, in which I took refuge, I had the impression that this was muzak from a contemporary furniture store. Nonetheless he warmed up the crowd well, establishing the vibe; if not in totally favourable light.

Asobi's new album represents a twist in direction – still very much on the loud/gentle side, arching now towards the joyous and the postmodern; consciously putting marked distance between themselves and MBV, their all-too-often cited reference point (the supposed necessity for pointing out the band that a current act are indebted to is vulgar). Their new songs are more rhythmic, as Asobi have allowed their songwriting ability to flourish into a bouquet.

Ben (drums) is a pleasure to watch. He thrashes the cymbals with desperation, and punctuates the senseless airy field of music with a clockwork pounding, stitching together the melodies into wonderful fragments that settle like snowflakes.

Yuki (vocals and keyboard), with a fairy-lit mic, peals out the pure and gorgeous vocals that unite their sound with brutal innocence. Her cheer at the end of every song is impossible to withstand. They truly are their sound – bliss found in escapism within music, they throw down everyday ennui and heap on top of it coloured plastic and luscious moaning. It's a difficult treat to resist; but ultimately it can be sickening. I for one had a change of heart about halfway through.

"Asobi seksu" is Japanese for playful sex – anyone who has been fortunate enough to enjoy that bittersweet candy knows that it can't be sustained. What's wrong with po-faced, business-like sex? Maybe I'm a misery guts. Or maybe I like sonic escapism to be so intrepid as to never look back towards pop. Maybe I like my pop to be an immaculate artistic recipe. Ultimately, I found Asobi Seksu to be a frustrating experience – but for the enthusiasm of the drummer, I would have returned to the bar with renewed bitterness after about 40 minutes of hearing "blissful dream pop", which sounds more like a euphemism for half-hearted experimentalism.

That said, Asobi exploded in the encore with 'Thursday', a divine gem of everything they could achieve – aligning James' guitar grind, Yuki's plaintive purity, and Ben's assailant beating. It is unassuming, and yet so powerful that I found myself smiling.

Undoubtedly, this indicates that there is more of worth to come from Asobi Seksu than Japanese shoegaze pop mimicking MBV.

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Sween