Fishmans - 98.12.28 男達の別れ (Album Review)

 

Fishmans - 98.12.28 男達の別れ (Otokotachi No Wakare)

(1999)

My copy: 2007 Fishmans Rock Festival box set press by Universal Music and Polydor.

Released on vinyl only once, as a part of the rare and highly sought-after Fishmans Rock Festival: 98.12.28 男達の別れ chronicles the band’s final live performance, and is a daunting release on multiple levels. Physically, it comes on three heavy vinyl discs; a necessity considering the album’s length (just over two hours). Emotionally, it is a important release given the context of Shinji Sato’s tragic death three months following the show - solidifying the finality of the work. At the time, the show was dedicated to bassist Yuzuru Kashiwabara who intended to leave the band following its completion, though Sato’s performance is so legendarily impressive, it is almost as if he was aware that this would be his final musical effort. 

They begin with “Oh Slime” - a fan favorite from their ‘95 record, here stretching the introduction further to reflect their infatuation with mixing a usual reggae/dub sound with psychedelia, accenting repetitive rhythms with sound effects and layered walls of speaking. When they finally arrive at the core bass melody and Sato’s vocals, it pays off as a grand release of masterfully built pressure. They stride coolly into Kuchu Camp’s dreamy “Night Cruisin’,” recreated lovingly with pin-prick lead guitar and signature samples. The sweet, soaring keys of “What Was It” emotionally defy the nonchalant reggae grooves of the rhythm section before the tempo picks up in the syncopated cracks of “Thank You.” Though some elements were remixed or boosted in post, this is truly an astounding recreation of these songs, owing most of its power to Sato’s goosebump-inducing falsetto. 

“A Happy Person” is as delightfully sassy and defiant as its studio release, relying on sliding 7th chords to create sensual pockets of rhythm before swapping to regal swells of melody. Gliding with subtlety via droning organ and steadily rising bass “Unreliable Angel” carefully withholds a traditional chorus, basking in more syncopated guitar before its final birdsong melodies grace the audience. Traveling back to ‘91 with their first ever single from Chappie Don’t Cry, “Airplane” is their most playful piece of relaxed reggae - while these early songs are slightly on the nose from writing standards, they are blissfully elevated with clever counter-melodies and buildups of new, raw guitar textures.

Now moving forward to their latest (and final) LP, they utilize violin to offer heavenly renditions of “In The Flight” and “Walking In The Rhythm,” opting to lengthen the former and shorten the latter from their studio counterparts. A new, faster paced outro for “Walking In The Rhythm” leads into the infectiously cheerful “Smilin’ Days, Summer Holiday,” and “MELODY,” both favorites for fusing several genres and locking into more danceable tempos.  

Next up is the longform single “Flickering In The Air,” released only a few weeks before this final performance: it adds deeper ambient techniques with gliding harmonies, illustrating a movement towards dreamier subsections of rock and progressive music. They even flirt at the edge of shoegaze through hazy repetition, though the rhythm section remains firmly rooted in funk. Ducking back to ‘93 for a penultimate run of “Crazy Baby,” they at last come to “Long Season.” Already a masterpiece in its studio rendition, Fishmans somehow manage to up the ante on an already incredibly consistent live record by outdoing themselves with a grand finale of unrivaled proportions in this 41-minute version of “Long Season.” Stripping away the only semi-gaudy experiments from the studio version, they play purely to psychedelia and funk - wrapping everything neatly into a visionary progressive structure. They are masters of a sort of “melancholy triumph” - of sounds that feel distinctly nostalgic, bittersweet and yet powerfully enriching and cathartic. Sato’s performance here is that of a man who has given all of his soul to his dream; and the rich tapestry of sound reflects a once-in-a-lifetime cross between taste and conviction. 

98.12.28 男達の別れ is the music of dreamers. It is a rare, life-affirming collection that elevates pop music beyond a simple distraction. Sure, it is perhaps dramatic to speak so highly of some of their uncomplicated dub tunes but at their peak, Fishmans have crafted a wholly unique aura that transcends typical genre descriptions. This is all furthered in the sheer ambition shown in their painstaking recreation of such ethereal sounds in a live environment. It is unknown where Fishmans would have gone from here had Sato lived, but his warm, gentle sentiments live on forever in what deserves examination as one of the greatest live performances within the realm of rock music.