Damo

I saw a man named Damo Suzuki sing last night. He's famous--he was in Can--but I had never heard of him. Damo tours the world playing with the musicians in "Damo Suzuki's Network", local bands that improvise behind him while he sings. The band with him was a Chilean group who were supposed to open for Sonic Youth but didn't, or something like that. A Chilean friend invited me to the show, which was taking place at one of the cooler art theatres in Chile. In the lobby Damo was posing for pictures and signing autographs. This is Pascal with Damo. Pascal knew a little bit of Japanese from watching animes so he was able to say "Photo?" "No (I don't speak Japanese)" and "Thank you."

Damo seemed humble, in the way people who perform incredible feats of musicianship/athleticism/art/whatever sometimes are. I admire humility a lot. I'm not sure if it means esteeming others very highly or esteeming yourself very little, but regardless, the willigness to stand and be met and photographed and sign autographs for people who adulate you solely because you know it will make them happy is really, really good. For some reason I didn't pose for a picture with him. I knew it would be a really cool thing to have, and that was kind of the reason I didn't do it.

I read an interview with him where he said something to the effect that he makes music to promote positive energy and combat violence. Few musicians can say that and not sound preposterous. Damo Suzuki can. And for real, I only walloped like four people that night, which is way fewer than normal.

It was a sit-down show, about half full when we came in. Nearly every seat was taken by the time Damo came out with the band, greeted the audience in english, and started the set. It began with noise. Two drummers, a guy with an electronics set-up, bass and a guitarist making a sort of organized cacophony. Damo began to sing, or rather, vocalize. He doesn't really do words, or language. It's more the kind of virtuosic freak-out that the Japanese seem singularly capable of. Think Yamantaka Eye. I didn't take notes and I can't really recall the progression of the set, but eventually the band left the outright noise behind for something that, well, had a key. Damo began to display his many voices. It all kind of reminded me of something that I couldn't quite pinpoint. He has a sort of quavering, style that I associate with a lot of prog-rock, He has a coarse, throaty, almost archetypal "hard rock" belt; and he has something subtler that I can't really describe at all. Words are failing me, or I am failing words. The whole time it's highly trance-like, hypnotic, absorbing--the kind of environment where you can talk about energy, and vibrations and those kinds of things, which is to say I felt it. And after that I didn't even wallop no one.