Up until a few hours ago, I'd never really seen a downside to caffeine addiction. Since the beginning of the 7th grade, cup after cup of piping-hot coffee has allowed me to pull all-nighters while retaining a moderate degree of awareness, maintain a degree of sociability at late-night events, and overcome general lethargy in nearly all cases.
So, I figured, what better way to prep myself up for the new release from the Japancakes than a coffee binge? After all, I was certainly expecting the record to be dull-- perhaps a few hundred milligrams of sweet, sweet caffeine would make it go by faster.
A good three to four heaping cups of brown gold later, I set about listening to The Sleepy Strange, ready to take in whatever the band had lined up for me. I wasn't expecting much, though-- their recent EP, Down the Elements proved once and for all that when your goal boils down to being as boring as possible, success equals failure. But I was willing to give the group a chance. After all, the idea of a "subtle jam music" is at least slightly intriguing. Combining this with the fact that I'd just consumed a large quantity of coffee, I was even-- dare I say-- optimistic?
Within the opening ten seconds of The Sleepy Strange, however, all the awful memories of Down the Elements, which had been conveniently crammed into my subconscious, came pouring back. And there still were 49 minutes ahead.
For the lucky individuals who have never heard Japancakes, let me offer a brief synopsis: Basically, the band grew out of an impromptu, unrehearsed jam session in which "mistakes" became "melody." Apparently, though, none of the band members are particularly prone to mistakes; my greatest gripe with Japancakes is that there's no discernible melody at all. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. I listen to plenty of music which could be called "non-melodic." But the ultimate failure of Japancakes is that their music just begs for a melody. I mean, repetitive instrumentals can be excellent if crammed with enough variety to keep you guessing, or even with just enough subtlety to keep you entranced. But Japancakes have none of those qualities.
They do, however, have what sounds like a lap steel, and they're not afraid to use it. The awkward, faux-twang does add a more organic feel to an album suffering from cheap, synthesized quasi-melodies, but even that winds up being bogged down in the drony crap stew that is The Sleepy Strange.
While it is by no means a good album, The Sleepy Strange is a small step up from its brain atrophy-inducing predecessor. On the album's closer, "Vinyl Fever," the band almost attains a tight, Tortoise-esque instrumental groove. But after over 40 minutes of boredom and frustration, odds are the album will most likely be occupying a precious spot in your septic tank before you get there.
Another cautionary warning: never, ever listen to Japancakes when you're hopped up on coffee or other stimulants. As this album went on, the caffeinated blood running through my veins began to boil in anticipation of something, anything interesting to happen. After just a few songs, I was felt a bit like a fox caught in a trap, ready to gnaw my own ears off if I could.
Luckily, I avoided the severe neck trauma of attempted ear-biting, and just turned off the album. After about an hour of relaxation, with intermittent listens to Max Tundra's Some Best Friend You Turned Out to Be to remind me just how exhilarating music can be, I gave the album a few more listens. And while I no longer found myself fighting off self-destructive urges, The Sleepy Strange was still every bit as frustrating and monotonous. Once again, Japancakes have lived up to their name: as accessible as Japan, and flat as a pancake.
