What a Sigh is there

 

 

It was my birthday a while ago and my lovely mother-in-law sent me a batch of rock-music-themed T-shirts as a present.  One was emblazoned with the striking cover-illustration of the 1998 album Cruelty and the Beast by County Suffolk gothic / symphonic heavy metal band Cradle of Filth.  Cruelty and the Beast was a concept album inspired by the legendary 16th / 17th century Hungarian countess Elizabeth Bathory, who supposedly bathed in the blood of slaughtered virgins in an attempt to keep herself young-looking.  (Fittingly, the album featured narration by the late, great horror-movie actress Ingrid Pitt, who played Bathory in the 1971 Hammer film Countess Dracula.)  Anyway, I’d been waiting for an opportunity to wear this new T-shirt in public.  The opportunity arrived on October 16th, when Japanese black metal band Sigh performed at Singapore’s Phil Studio.

 

 

Actually, my T-shirt matched the macabre vibe established by the second support act, the Singaporean Tok Yathraa.  (I couldn’t get away from work early enough to catch the first support act, which was N3M3515 – read the numbers as letters – described intriguingly as a “one-man ChipDoom Project from Singapore, armed with a Classic Gameboy, combining elements from Sludge Doom and Hardcore.”)  Tok Yathraa is a black-shrouded, hooded, white-faced, rather Bergmanesque figure who, when interviewed on the Filthy Gods of Metal website, described himself as “a one-man band which started on 16th May 2020… heavily influenced by King Diamond, Mercyful Fate, Black Sabbath, Immortal, S.M. Salim, Judas Priest and Wings.”  It might come as a shock for the classic Malay singer S.M. Salim or, indeed, Paul McCartney’s Wings to find themselves included in such illustriously metallic company.  In the same interview, he called his music “bomoh metal, a fusion of black metal plus heavy metal plus focusing on subjects of local / Asia ghosts.”

 

Now fronting a three-piece band with a drummer and bass-player, Tok Yathraa put on a show that was simultaneously spooky and good fun, with his references to the ghosts and folklore of the Malay Peninsula nicely anticipating Halloween at the end of this month.  He went down well with the small but enthusiastic crowd whom, at the beginning of his set, he encouraged to stand close to the stage so that things felt more intimate.

 

 

Headliners Sigh also have roots in the sub-genre of black metal, which values shrieking vocals, hectic and distorted guitars and copious allusions to occult, Satanic and pagan skulduggery, and is essayed by corpse-painted and pseudonym-laden musicians.  Indeed, historically, Sigh’s black metal credentials are impeccable.  They formed in 1989, heavily inspired by the black metal scene becoming popular – and soon notorious – in Scandinavia.  A few years later, they were signed to the Norwegian label Deathlike Silence Records by Euronymous, co-founder of the band Mayhem.  Yes, Euronymous was the bloke who’d be stabbed to death in 1993 by Varg Vikernes, of the band Burzum, during a period when the Norwegian black metal scene went down some very dark roads indeed.

 

 

But in the three decades since – during which time, vocalist, keyboardist and bassist Mirai Kawashima has been the band’s leading light and one, enduring member – Sigh have also distinguished themselves with their willingness to experiment.  Their sound has incorporated elements from classical music, traditional Japanese music and elsewhere, so that it’s earned such epithets as ‘avant-garde’ and ‘progressive’.  Their eclectic-ness was certainly on display tonight.  For example, their second singer and multi-instrumentalist Dr Mikannibal – according to Google AI, she’s actually a professor with ‘a doctorate in physics form the University of Tokyo’ – played a shamisen at one point and a saxophone at another.  That was when she wasn’t pouring fake blood over her face from a goblet and shrieking sepulchrally.  All good, ghoulish fun, by the way.

 

 

Their set – much of which was drawn from the 2007 album Hangman’s Hymn, which they re-recorded this year, and from the 2022 album Shiki – was a riot.  It contained enough of the band’s original black metal lodestone to keep headbangers in the audience happy but offered plenty of other elements to ensure the proceedings felt fresh and unpredictable.  The band’s look was great too.  It was obviously influenced by such Japanese things as manga, kabuki and ukiyo-e – the colourful woodblock prints from the Edo period – as well as by Tim Burton and the traditional corpse-paint and general gruesomeness of black metal.  I noticed how the guitarists had painted-on stitch-marks at the corners of their mouths, suggesting Kuchisake Onna, the fearsome slit-mouthed lady of Japanese urban myth.  Though I don’t know what the black mask (or was it black gunk?) covering the face of the drummer was meant to represent.  Anyway, he looked pretty fearsome too.

 

 

As I said, the crowd was relatively small, but the performers gave it their all.  There was a splendid vibe and I had a great night.  In my heavy metal live-music memories, this experience will be up there with seeing Megadeth (supported by Korn) in Chicago in 1995, or Motorhead (supported by Saxon) in Norwich in 2009.  It didn’t matter that the attendance wasn’t massive. I tried explaining this to Tok Yathraa, whom I encountered at the end of the evening, after Sigh had finished their set.  He looked slightly bemused by my enthusiasm.  Well, I’d had a few beers by then.

 

One thing did put a dampener on the evening, though.  Also after the gig’s end, I got talking to one of Phil Studio’s staff-members and learned from him that the venue will be closing down on November 2nd.  This is thanks to an economically lethal cocktail of ‘high operational costs, compliance burdens, regulatory red tape, and double standards’.  It comes in the wake of the closure two months ago of the Projector Cinema, a rare place in Singapore where you could get to see movies considered too niche to be shown in the city’s cineplexes.  Oh dear, Singapore.  If you keep on shedding your independent, alternative and idiosyncratic creative spaces like this, you’re going to end up as bland, corporate and culturally airless as Dubai…  Or indeed, Edinburgh (see here, here and here).

 

The incredible shrinking wardrobe

 

 

The past few weeks have been extremely busy because I’ve been moving house – not the easiest of things to do if, like me, you live in Singapore.  So, here’s something light and frivolous.

 

It’s said that you become more conservative as you grow older.  That’s because, people reason, of the material and financial possessions you acquire over the years – property, cars, shares – which make you increasingly suspicious of lefty governments inclined to levy high taxes on you and generally interfere with your accrued wealth.

 

Maybe that explains why I’ve singularly failed to shift rightwards in my politics as I’ve become wrinkly and decrepit.  These days I’m a cranky old left-wing git, whereas formerly I was a cranky young left-wing git.  It’s due to the fact that I haven’t amassed property, cars, shares, etc.  Actually, from the look of my finances, it’s likely I’ll be spending my dotage stacking supermarket shelves.

 

One thing that brought this lack of acquisitions home to me recently was my discovery that, after moving into a new apartment, I could comfortably fit my entire collection of clothing into half a wardrobe.  Well, half a wardrobe plus a shelf for storing a couple of folded trousers and one drawer in which I stash all my socks, underwear and accessories (basically a beanie hat, a sporran, and ‘anti-leech socks’ worn while trekking in the Asian mountains).  My incredible shrinking wardrobe now contains a few work-shirts, a work-jacket, a sweater that’s never used because I live in sultry Singapore, a kilt and a bunch of mostly old and mostly black T-shirts.  And that’s it.

 

Anyway, hanging those T-shirts in their new wardrobe in their new home inspired me to take a walk down Memory Lane…

 

Firstly, here’s one with your actual Godzilla on it.  That’s the city-stomping, take-no-shit-from-anyone Japanese Gojira, not the wimpy Hollywood version who appears in buddy movies with King Kong.  By the standards of my wardrobe, this item is an example of ultra-modernity, since my partner bought it for me last year.

 

 

Meanwhile, this was a Christmas present given to me by my partner’s mum.  She heard I was a fan of County Suffolk’s greatest symphonic-black-gothic metal band Cradle of Filth and kindly procured this T-shirt for me featuring Nigel Wingrove’s cover artwork from their 1996 album Dusk and Her Embrace.  It’s probably just as well, though, that her mum didn’t purchase for me the most famous T-shirt that Cradle of Filth have brought out.

 

 

She was also nice enough to buy me a T-shirt emblazoned with the iconic cover design for the 1984 compilation Bad Music for Bad People by that mighty psychobilly band The Cramps.  In this case, the artist responsible was Steve Blickenstaff and he perfectly captured the band’s trashy punk-horror aesthetic.

 

 

Meanwhile, here’s a T-shirt bearing the name of evergreen (or ever-black) goth band The Cure.  If I remember rightly, a friend bought this for me as a memento of the Marseille gig the band did during their 2008 European tour.  I was thinking of attending the gig myself but, because of the expense and effort involved in getting to Marseille, wimped out.  It’s now 2024 and I still haven’t seen Robert Smith and co. perform live, so I really wish I’d got off my bum and gone for it in 2008.  Especially as it sounded like an awesome gig – they managed to play a dozen songs during the encores alone.

 

 

Around the same period, sometime in 2008 or 2009, I picked up this T-shirt in the famous market in central Norwich.  Showing a ghoulishly-green deceased person and the tagline, ‘When there’s no more room in HELL, the dead will walk the EARTH’, it’s the poster from the seminal 1979 zombie movie Dawn of the Dead, directed by George A. Romero.  (The remake, which Zack Snyder directed in 2004, is great during its first half-hour but after that gets a bit ‘meh’.)

 

 

And this is the inevitable AC/DC T-shirt, which I bought a few months ago in our local branch of that hardcore, uncompromising, heavy-metal hangout, Cotton On.  I live in the tropics and it’s an indispensable part of my beachwear, along with a pair of black jeans and pair of Doc Martens.  Come to think of it, an AC/DC T-shirt, black jeans and Doc Martens also constitute my streetwear, sportswear, casualwear, workwear, partywear and eveningwear.

 

 

No wonder I received this ZZ Top T-shirt – again from my partner’s mum, who really does spoil me.  I’m clearly a Sharp Dressed Man.