Violinist Katsui Yuji plays with such a particular (some might say awful) tone, that I find it hard to focus on anything else when he's playing, including the actual song. In fact, Yuji's sound is so cringe-inducing, so thin and elastic, that I always wonder how he's able to fit in with other musicians-- and yet, I almost always love the bands he performs with. But it struck me as I listened to the latest offering by Rovo, one of many bands Yuji can claim membership to, that it's come to the point where I can predict exactly what he'll do in any given situation, be it deft, repetitive figures or drawn-out, single-note moans.
Rovo usually plays hard trance that borders on funk but never quite gets there, and Yuji's lines supply what little melody is able to make it through the layers of noise. The problem is, this makes things a tad monotonous when the rest of the band isn't on fire. And while Flage does have some very hot moments, it can't quite match the energetic glee of Sai or Imago when taken as a whole.
The opener, "Canvas", begins with Yuji's overdubbed string lines recreating a string quartet; this is a new sound for Rovo, who rarely stray far from arrangements that can't be duplicated live (and make no mistake, this band is much easier to fawn over live). Beneath the strings, a pulse brews, beginning with a barely audible shaker, eventually building to include two drummers and the rest of the band. The song repeats Yuji's simple violin lines throughout-- which alternate between extended brush-stroke lines and bouncy, synth-doubled figures-- and the beats range from faux-techno to full-on samba. In the 70s, Rovo might have been considered a fusion band, similar to mid-period Weather Report; they have the eclecticism down, but for better or worse, nowhere near the color.
Where these guys excel is in dancefloor rave-ups-- one that are too fast to actually dance to-- like "Spica" and "Sukhna". The first tune, though it sounds less like a "song" than an impromptu jam, mixes in manic James Brown beats with light electro touches and the ever-present fusion aftertaste, via constant group interplay and Yuji's improvisation. The latter kicks down the doors with a furious percussion coda wherein bass drums and Chinaboys endure a brutal punishing in the name of hyper-badass pogo flailing.
The near ambient "Mov" begins with Japanese bells and a percolating, cotton-coated minimalist guitar figure. Per Rovo's general form, Yuji's violin enters with long, reverb-heavy tones, and the synth and cymbals build to a subtle high that many new age composers might happily lose themselves in. It's not that I'm not impressed by Rovo's mastery of this texture (though I'd be perfectly happy to see them develop a few more)-- after all, calming music can be lovely in spots-- but when trance-heavy post-rock is the game, sometimes the details seem glossed over.
Rovo are one of the most popular bands in Japan right now-- this album debuted in that country's Top 40-- and there's something to be said for infiltrating a nation's pop-conscience with semi-out music. At the very least, I'm happy for the musicians, most of whom spent a decade or two prior to their formation paying noisy dues. However, one of the things I notice with each passing Rovo disc is a tendency to cruise when going full throttle would be more fun, or to stay put when leaping for joy would pull the listener back in. But I can't fault them for what they aren't, so I'll let the record play and chalk up the even-keeled vibe to the band's experience.
