Believe it or not, Japan can make other music aside from peppy pop! It has a vibrant underground music scene, which over the years has developed into an influential force to be reckoned with. In Jukebox, we take a look at the versatility of the Japanese music industry — beyond the realm of anime and other geekery. Last time, we took a look at BiS and the havoc they wreck on the idol industry. This week’s band, Matryoshka, could not be any less similar.

A country of contrasts. That is the cliché about Japan you very often hear whenever a journalist mentions it. The nation that is responsible for some of the most high-end technical innovation is also the conservative nation nearly obsessed with its own cultural and religious heritage. The country that constantly raises eyebrows with the questionable extremes of some of its subcultures is also the country that values respect, hard work and selfless dedication above all else. Nevertheless, these opposites are not as mutually exclusive as they initially seem. In fact, they are directly responsible for one another. The enormous pressure present in Japanese society gives rise to more radical means of escapism or a longing for older and simpler times. Excessing or excelling one on side will prompt a similar reaction on the other.

This constant paradox is also reflected in the Japanese music industry. One one hand, Japan is known for sparkly saccharine and  catchy J-Pop, the wackier the better. However, it is also renowned for its spirited ambient music scene. Since the change of the millennium, the Japanese underground started composing dreamy, frequently minimalistic soundscapes en masse, usually blending classical instrumentation with unconventional rock arrangements, electronic bleeps and bloops and hazy female vocals. These songs were meant to be atmospheric and emotional before being memorable or catchy. Similar to the swirling crescendos of post-rock bands like Sigur Rós or Japan’s very own Mono, this was music to be savoured, not consumed.

Taking a few pages out of the book of the shoegaze genre, which traditionally buries dreamy vocals in a sea of distorted guitars and feedback, Matryoshka’s music switches the guitars around for sizzling crackle reminiscent of old vinyl records and melancholic string arrangements, blending murmured English lyrics and string arrangements into one organic whole. Comprised of producer/composer Sen and vocalist Calu, Matryoshka scored a sponsorship deal with Yamaha within one year of being formed, thanks to a particularly dedicated fan from The Netherlands, who passed around their songs on self-pressed 7 inch LPs. It does not get much more obnoxiously hipster than that, doesn’t it? The band quickly developed a distinct aesthetic to fit their otherworldly music, donning gas masks on their saturated monochrome promo pictures and releasing album artwork and animated music videos that look like a crossover between corrupted baroque paintings and the anime-esque scribbles of a confused goth.

Matryoshka managed to sign with Virgin Babylon, the artsy label that is home to many of Japan’s most poignant and experimental bands, and launched their first album, Zatracenie (Polish for “doom”) in 2007. Its sales exceeded expectations, according to the band all thanks to word of mouth promotion. The band’s frigid, destructively melancholic debut opens up with the lush “Sink into the Sin”, a dreamy piano ballad with a clear structure, and by far their most accessible track to date. Other standout tracks include “Evening Gleam Between Clouds”, which covers up Matryoshka’s then already trademark glitchy framework with a wailing, weeping guitar and “Ezekiel”, a track that would feel right at home on a Nine Inch Nails record.

This release was followed up in 2009 by a remix album named Coctura, which featured many of Matryoshka’s labelmates reinterpreting their music. The band themselves also contributed a remix to -Echo-, the third tribute album released by Square-Enix in honour of their cult hit video game NieR. Aside from this small contribution, Matryoshka remained quiet for almost half a decade. Calu joined up with Takahiro Kido, Yuki Murata and Takahiro Matsue of the band anoice to form the violin and piano driven alternative rock band Rilf. While Rilf’s members all hailed from suspiciously similar sounding bands, the band still managed to create a warmer and more accessible sound of their own. After the release of their debut album, Rilf was stuffed back into the fridge when its members returned to their original bands. Sen and Calu wrote twelve new songs and appropriately released their sophomore album, Laideronette, in the darkness of winter, 9 days before the supposed end of the world.

Unlike the Russian dolls they are named after, Matryoshka is not a band with many layers. Their music is very much a case of “you get what you hear”. When you have heard one Matryoshka song, you have heard them all. This criticism could easily be applied to many of the genres the band draws their inspiration from as a whole, but depending on your attitude to music in general, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Sen and Calu have their atmospheric sound down to the tiniest details, and stick to what they are good at. Zatracenie and Laideronette are albums you should not go into looking for popular tunes that get stuck in your head. While the former still features an occasional bout of exciting experimentation, Laideronette is one sweeping suite of the same idea being honed to absolute perfection. Matryoshka is not meant to be listened to on a track-to-track basis. It is swirling background music with the power to turn a lazy afternoon into an almost transcendental experience.

Take note: Dreamers and stargazers.
Take cover: People who can only calm down with Ritalin.
Essential tracks: “Sink Into The Sin”, “Evening Gleam Behind The Clouds”, “Monotonous Purgatory”

A selection of tracks from both of Matryoshka’s albums has been made available for free download from Last.fm.