by David Wilikofsky
Despite the fact that I’ve been listening to Shinutokiwa Betsu for almost a decade, I didn’t know much about the history of Wha-ha-ha. In writing this article I found that, as with many Alternative Canon entries, there’s not a lot of information available about it. What I do know: Wha-ha-ha was a Japanese ensemble active in the early eighties, releasing all three of their records within a two year period from 1981-1982. The seven member lineup consisted of Shigetoku Kamiya, Shuichi Chino, Mishio Ogawa, Akira Sakata, Shuichi ‘Ponta’ Murakami, Takafumi Fuse and Kiyohiko Semba, with Semba reportedly being the leader of the group. And that’s pretty much it.
Luckily we are here to talk about their music, and there’s no lack of discussion topics there. Shinutokiwa Betsu, their first full length statement as a group, is a bizarre yet compulsively listenable genre mashup that sounds utterly contemporary despite being recorded nearly forty years ago. The group throws a little bit of everything at the wall: technicolor pop, atonal jazz breakdowns, wordless scat vocals, mutant industrial beats, spaceage lounge music a la Doopies and much more. On paper it shouldn’t work, a mishmash of ideas that doesn’t cohere into a whole. In actuality it’s a wildly inventive album that defies easy categorization yet hangs together as a full statement. You’ve never heard anything like it, likely because nobody else could pull it off.
Listening to this album is a musical journey with each song chock full of ideas. As soon as you feel like they’ve locked into a grove, the music mutates into something entirely different. “On The Floor” exemplifies this constant motion. Sporting multiple melodies over its six minute run time, each one builds up steam before dissolving into free jazz chaos. “Rice & Soy” seems like a straightforward electropop song until sounds start flickering between speakers, almost as if the band is weaving and bobbing side to side. It’s evident that the band is having an absolute blast throughout. Towards the end of “My Happiness (Is Not Yours)”, you can hear Ogawa break into laughter and cackle with glee. It’s a small moment that exemplifies the music’s energy and infectious joy, which is perhaps the number one reason to check out this album. It is music that is as fun to listen to as it clearly was to create.
Wha-ha-ha recorded two more albums before calling it quits, a second studio album (Getahaitekonakucha) and a twenty two minute live recording (Live Dub). They were clearly ahead of their time; “Whaha Whaha”, for instance, sounds like a dead ringer Macula Dog track complete with herky jerky rhythms and robotic vocals. After Wha-ha-ha disbanded, many of the members moved on to other projects and had long musical careers. Akira Sakata is a noted free jazz saxophonist, playing with a variety of ensembles throughout his decades long career. Vocalist Mishio Ogawa recorded a few art pop albums under her own name and as part of the group Chakra. Senba, in addition to solo recordings, had another equally zany group, Haniwa-chan. It’s a whole little mutant pop universe worth getting lost in. Consider Shinutokiwa Betsu an entryway into it.