TOMIKO VAN - Farewell

The burning fire that held together one of the greatest Japanese pop-rock bands went out last year, on September 29th. Their name was Do As Infinity. From the ashes of that waking dream, one delightful angel remained adrift: the singer, Tomiko Van.

As the new year arrived came the announcement of her solo debut, and the excitement is immense. The title is "Farewell".

It must have happened often enough: listening to the first record by a member of a band whose every move you've followed step by step, whose smallest sounds you've savoured. This writer falls into that category. This work brings tears at every turn, so steeped is it in passion, so full of love in its making. These songs carry something moving that flows unchecked, a passion for music charged with feeling, a deep affection for the teachings of the band that launched her into the pantheon of Japanese music.

The fear that the record might be a tired rehash of Do As Infinity songs was there, unfortunately. Instead, it seems this album was worked out down to the smallest detail, already underway before the band's breakup, polished to the last touch, chiseled with typically Japanese precision.

It opens with the title-track, and it's already a mix of pain and happiness: a splendid, dreamlike intro made up of xylophone, violin and guitar sets the stage for Tomiko's first words. The voice is still the same one. Crystalline, angelic, precise and moving. Barely-there percussion, a distant, tinkling piano, and Tomiko's all-heart, all-love delivery is the final gift to a story made for the nostalgic.

Next comes the exquisite pop-rock of "Morning Glory", shyly resting on guitar interplay and a string section that's never intrusive but, if anything, perfectly set within the song's context. Here too, we're facing the genre's high points, always with a slightly wistful, shadowy approach.

Just to prove us wrong, the carefree "Urara" blooms, a pop song still centered on Tomiko's vocalizing, never cloying nor banal. The flute rounds out a wistful melody, the piano offers notes that sound like gems, the drums set a tempo that's by turns gentle and irrepressible. The rhythm is never static, and closing your eyes you can picture a group of children holding hands, spinning around in a brightly colored meadow.

"Essence" delivers bursts of dazzling melodic beauty, so enclosed in a bud that never blooms, while "Horoscope" stretches out into a boundless valley of sweetness, with delicate, light tones. The following "Complacence" is perhaps the record's most energetic track, built on an electronic rhythmic structure and a series of firm, sustained guitar chords. Some vocal passages are like the flight of an angel and the trail of light it leaves behind. A ceaseless surge of frenzied guitars pricks at our senses with astonishing force, small synthetic flourishes slash through the flow like a samurai's sword cutting a body in two. And once again we're struck by the ability to sweep through atmospheres typically belonging to the Land of the Rising Sun ("Nue No Naku Yoru"), j-pop songs as rare as they come ("Holy Planet"), love stories of rare intensity ("Before Sunset").

The piano-song "Hold Me..." is steeped in hope and affection, a vaguely jazzy feel seeming to emerge as the seconds tick by, and the final result is slightly disorienting compared to the rest of the record.

The closing track is a cover of the Disney classic "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes", from the soundtrack of "Cinderella", already sung by voices of the caliber of Meredith Robertson, Julie Andrews and Linda Ronstadt. Tomiko comes out neither defeated nor diminished, managing, as ever, to deliver real emotion.

Ultimately, an album that confirms an exquisite artist and stands as one of the loveliest pop records to come out of Japan. Recommended for the faint of heart, for anyone who loves songs that are simple yet utterly precious.

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11/06/2006