THE JAPANESE HOUSE
The sand is cold between your toes. Footprints elapse behind you, diving into a fog that threatens to engulf this lonely spit where land meets sea. A gull wheels endlessly overhead.
(you should really listen to this while you read)
All at once she’s there, standing in the surf, pale ankles wreathed with bracelets of foam. Months apart dissolve in the sand as her smile tears a hole in you.
She’s gone again - no reason, no explanation. A perfect hallucination.
The Japanese House is dreamy and raw, a musical project exploring identity, friendship, desire, love, and its disintegration over time. Amber Bain, 23, is its subject and creator.
The first time I heard The Japanese House has stuck with me. I don’t recall the circumstance, but the emotion is crystal clear - a trademark of her music. Saw You in a Dream, the eponymous opener to the 2017 EP, opens with a breathy synthesizer that sounds both space-age and antiquated. Simple, lo-fi drums draw you in before a distant chime heralds your arrival. Bain’s voice spirits you away, and somewhere an apparition of lost love awaits. Silhouetted by melancholy guitar and 80s-reminiscent bass, wrapped in layered vocals and reverb, the atmosphere is blanket-thick, awash with hope and grief.
When Amber was 7 she spent a vacation in a Dover cottage with her family. During this stay she met another young girl, ostensibly staying nearby. Curious and perhaps a bit mischievous, Amber introduced herself as a boy - Danny. As the two saw each other throughout the following week, feelings developed. But when the time came to go home and Amber revealed her identity, the other girl was crushed. This experience would shape the next decade and a half of Amber’s musical expression. The cottage was called The Japanese House.
The crowd got here early and doesn’t want to make any room for latecomers like myself. Although she’s young, The Japanese House has already been touring for a handful of years, and her fanbase came in force. I grab a spot along the wall and hope 105 millimeters is enough zoom as the lights go down and return a deep, oceanic blue.
Good At Falling is the first LP from TJH, and Bump has had it on loop since its release. The mix flirts with retro funk and R&B - you can tell that The 1975 had a hand in the album’s production - and the show immediately gets us moving with the almost tropical groove of Follow My Girl. Ethereal vocals, plaintive one moment and triumphant the next, glide over saxophone stabs, marimba samples and a bassline that never stops walking. It sounds like the most melancholy 80’s montage with a healthy injection of music theory.
We’re singing along, most of us, and Amber and her band are loving it. She’s a small person, probably about 5 feet tall, but her energy takes up the whole stage as she pours her soul into the mic with both hands, struts and solos, plants a kiss on the very pretty keyboard player. We all scream about it and they both smile sheepishly.
It’s easy to drift away into the more atmospheric sections, close your eyes and see Amber dangling her feet over the edge of a pier, gazing into the water that surrounds and infuses her music, seeing someone long gone. Her ability to convey complex emotion without writing ballads or heartbreak records is incredible. Happiness tangles itself amongst the notes of loss and longing, a fluid journey of unresolved human experience it’s difficult not to lose yourself in.
From the balcony I can see just how many people have thrown their hands in the air, waving like kelp in a gentle sea. Waves come and go - Face Like Thunder has the entire room dancing, We Talk All the Time is a groove so deep the venue shimmies a little - and we ride them all together. Amber takes multiple guitar solos that leave wake with their power. She does a high kick. Lights strobe and we all flail.
There is no encore. The Japanese House has said all she meant to. We tear up a little but understand. Hugs are part celebration, part consolation, everyone raw after the performance. Loved ones are called after the show, teary-eyed cigarettes smoked - I hug my buddy Marvyn wordlessly and put on Saw You In A Dream as soon as we say goodbye.
Put on a loose sweater and listen to Good At Falling. Bumps well with loving someone far away, loose sweaters, and walking along sunlit water on a fall day.
♥ Zach
