Pizzicato Five / Happy End of the World by Sufi Toynbee Matador Records Sitting on a friend's persian rug one rainy new moon, I popped the newest from Pizzicato Five into her sound reproduction facilitator (shelf model), smirked and said, "Eureka! I knew this music would come one day." Maybe it's the millenium affecting my reasoning, or a supersecret government virus, or a green ray from outer space, but I think that somehow these mod-geeks from the East have crafted something (dare I say it?) "new." Happy End of the World pushes irony to its logical conclusion: a fresh sincerity, frenetic, cute, and knowing. One might call it wry sincerity. It takes the sixties-consciousness that college radio jocks love (Stereolab, My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult) through a high school drill team car wash of soapy hip-hop and steaming wet house beats. Chamois that baby off with some genuine muzak (the Tokyo J.C. Penney's variety), and you have a look at the seminal sonic ideas of the cultural post-apocalypse. The duo has been pushing this envelope throughout its illustrious career, but this album, I assure you, is a breakthrough, a new dawning. As track four, "It's a Beautiful Day," puts it (in Japanese, not English): Before waking up in the morning, I had a short dream. Interrupted by mysterious memories. An angel at my ears is whispering to me. It's like the good old mysterious words of love. At first glance, the lines seem inflected with the same mockery of the Pizzicato past, but as the band pushes its happy vibe with more esprit de corps, one realizes that they have assumed an ironic attitude toward even their own aloofness. In short, the time has come to love again, and with all possible verve. Konishi and Yasuharu are liberated by the discovery that distance is at least as foolish as intimacy. The "mysterious memories" referred to are of a time when people cared about regular old stuff, like family and sunrises and Rover. It was a time when people assumed the best about politicians and gas station attendants. It was a time when people liked themselves, a time when irony was a literary device and not a mantra. And while Pizzicato Five -- known to sport kilts and gold lamé -- are about as far from the Christian right as Ian MacKaye is from John Denver (may God rest his soul), they have nevertheless reclaimed some old-fashioned feelings. The album is emblematic of what is sure to be happening across musical styles in the near future (and is already happening to some extent): an exploration and exploitation of the "weaknesses" of those styles which creates something newly authentic. Country cheese, mod glee, lounge sleaze, ambient numbness, all turned on their heads and appropriated by "rock stars." Bands like Ween, for example, have made such inroads with 12 Golden Country Greats, but unfortunately Ween can't resist making fun, albeit with occasional subtlety. The Squirrel Nut Zippers try the same with lounge but have little success keepin' it wry. But Pizzicato Five stands out for refusing simply to imitate the past or make fun of it. Instead they use the past to express contemporary motifs: that anxious space where the posture, thank God, is reality. Happy End of the World is the kind of album that few will buy and even fewer will appreciate, but if you are a listener who loves to love music, then by Jove, Pizzicato Five has a thorny, sweet-smelling rose for you!

back to Decweb main