I hope you’re not sick of me talking about my podcast, Cinema Oblivia, because I’m about to talk about my podcast, Cinema Oblivia.

Sorry (not sorry).

The podcast has actually been going pretty well. It’s not setting the world on fire or anything like that, but I didn’t expect it to, especially out of the gate. I’ve been really happy with every episode so far. It’s been a while since my last post here, and I’ve put up quite a few episodes since then.

On March 18, Madeline Koestner and I talked about William Friedkin’s amazing forgotten film Sorcerer, a wild flick about a group of goons transporting nitroglycerin through a South American hellscape. It’s a fantastic movie (with a soundtrack by Tangerine Dream!) and you should totally watch it (and listen to that episode). After that Emma Buntrock-Miller joined me to discuss Brian De Palma’s wacked-out horror-musical Phantom of The Paradise. This movie stars Paul Williams and was a major influence on Daft Punk, so if that sounds cool to you, maybe check it out.

Last week I put up the strangest episode to date. Dr. Sparkle of Chrontendo fame called me up to talk about Seeds, a batshit crazy movie by the late not-so-great Andy Milligan. Even if you haven’t heard of that movie (and let’s be real, you probably haven’t) I think the episode is well worth a listen; we dive into some pretty cool topics like lost films and gay underground cinema.

I’ve already recorded the bulk of the episodes that are going up in April and I’m excited to share them with you. This week Shane Bettenhausen and I talk about the disco nightmare that is The Apple, and the following week an old friend of mine joins me to discuss the 1983 video game sex comedy (yes, really), Joysticks. After that, Erik Pepple, a film scholar and another old friend of mine, comes on for the first Cinema Oblivia double-feature, Rad and BMX Bandits! And finally, I’m very excited to say that I’m closing out the month talking about one of my all-time favorite movies, Bring Me The Head of Alfredo Garcia. Joining me on that episode is none other than Giant Bomb’s own Alex Navarro! Wow!

Let’s celebrate with the most obscure album I’ve ever shard on this site. Seriously. I think it’s the all-time winner.

Beautiful Shateau & Synthesizer
The Charm of Synthesizer: Japanese Melody (Complete Album download)

I’ve been sitting on this one for a while now. I keep saying to myself that I’m going to dig deep and try to uncover more about it, but each time I try, I turn up with nothing. Here’s what I know.

This is a very early project by Matsutake Hideki, aka Logic System. I’ve written about him before, (hell, I even met him once). He was the synthesizer programmer on the early Yellow Magic Orhestra albums, and he’s had quite the career aside from that both as a solo artist and a studio musician. Here, he’s working under the odd (and incorrectly spelled) name of Beautiful Shateau & Synthesizer.

From what I can gather, Matsutake released three albums under this name; Synthesizer 美しき日本の抒情; シンセサイザーが奏でる日本の名歌 – 都会の夜; and this one The Charm of Synthesizer: Japanese Melody. Again, from what I can tell, the first two were issued on LP, while this may have been a cassette only release. There may have been more “Shateau” albums too, I just don’t know.

I’m sorry for the all the caveats and uncertainty, but I literally can find zero information on these albums online in English. And what little I managed to find in Japanese haven’t been much of a help. Again, I can’t even find release dates on these albums. That’s insanely rare for Japanese albums. Most Japanese records print the release date on the cover, down to the day of the week. I don’t know why these are so lacking. I’m sure some of you are saying “well, just go to Discogs,” but they don’t have the release dates either. And trust me, I would know since I entered most of the data and took all of the pictures for all of the releases on the Discogs page!

However, one of the “Shateau” tracks did appear on the Logic System box set that came out a couple years back. On there, the track was given a release date of 1976. That’s the same year that Matsutake released his very first album under his own name, alongside fellow Japanese synthesizer pioneer Tsuneaki Tone, Pop Memories on Moog III. Again though, I really should caveat that with another maybe. There is a “III” in that album’s name, after all. They could have recorded something even before that. Still, I feel that it’s safe to say that the “Shateau” releases probably came out no earlier than 1975, and no later than 1977. These albums are very simple.  By 1978 he was experimenting with more complex arrangements, and in the following year he was working with YMO on their debut record.

All the songs on all the Shateau albums are covers of enka songs. Enka is a genre of music that’s often described as “traditional Japanese pop music” and I guess that’s accurate. It’s very pre-rock type stuff. Almost exclusively ballads. It’s the kind of shit that Japanese grandparents just fucking go apeshit for. Obviously, I’m not familiar with the original versions of any of these tracks. So I can’t tell you how many liberties Matsutake is taking with the source material. Given how barren and simple these tracks are though, I feel it’s safe to say that these are probably relatively faithful to the original versions, just like a lot of other early synthesizer covers of pop tunes.

Despite my complete lack of cultural awareness for anything on this album, I do really enjoy listening to it. Most enka songs are usually sad or melancholy, and it translates really well to the minimal arrangements that Matsutake put forth on all of these releases. They’re all so bizarre, like music out of time, obviously very old but recorded in a (then) very new way. Listening to them transports me to another reality, a retro-futuristic world where everyone is dressed like 1950s gangsters, but somehow all have cyberpunk gear hooked up to their trench coats. It’s detached and unfamiliar to anything else I’ve ever heard. It’s so my jam.

None of the Shateau albums I have sound particularly great from an audio perspective, sadly. The records are all pretty banged up, and this tape has seen better days too. Of the lot, I think this tape rip is the best though. It’s a little muddled, and there’s a weird audio glitch in one track that I just couldn’t remove, but overall it’s very clean and clear. I prefer a slightly muddy recording to a heavily scratched one, that’s for sure. If the quality bothers you, I recommend listening on your speakers instead of headphones, it sounds better that way for sure.

Let me know what you think of this one in the comments. I know it’s really out there, but I it’s so fascinating to me.

Tonight’s album is one of the most mysterious that I’ve ever shared.

Synthesizer ga Kanaderu Nihon no Meika (complete album download)

Hell of a cover, right? A lot going on there, typeface wise. It was even a struggle for me to figure out the proper title of it at first. But I think my boyfriend and I figured it out. Best we can figure, the name of this record is シンセサイザーが奏でる日本の名歌. That’s pronounced as “Synthesizer ga Kanaderu Nihon no Meika” and translates to “The Greatest Japanese Songs on Synthesizer.”

For the makers of this album (more on them in a bit) “greatest Japanese songs” meant “popular ballads and folk music, mostly from the 1960s.” A lot of the songs here were originally enka tunes. Enka is a bit hard to describe, there really isn’t an analog to it in Western culture. Basically it’s music for your grandparents, sentimental slow-moving ballads without a hint of that newfangled rock and roll the kids go on about. Imagine if someone combined easy listening, folk music, and American standards into one genre, that would be enka. It’s Barry Manilow meets Celine Deon with a hint of Perry Cuomo

I’m not going to be as bold as to say that its uniformly bad, but it’s not for me. I am not that music’s target market. I will refrain from critical comment. I must also refrain as to the accuracy of these interpretations. Maybe they’re as faithful as all-synthesizers cover can be. Maybe they’re radical re-workings that remake the songs entirely (I doubt that). I just don’t know.

Judging them solely on their synthesized versions though, they’re not bad. There are some good melodies here. I dig “One Rainy Night In Tokyo” quite a bit, it has a good groove. “Una Sera Di Tokyo” isn’t half bad either, with a playful yet melancholy sound. The person behind this album sure knew what they were doing when they put it together. All of the songs, even the ones where I can tell the source material ain’t all that, sound good. Excellent choices regarding audio effects and production all around.

So who the hell did this?

The credited artist on the cover is “Beautiful Shateau & Synthesizer.” I assume they meant “Chateau” but that’s what happens when you rely on katakana pronunciation to spell something. Trust me, I know. This is an English teacher in Japan you’re talking to.

A quick web search on them brings up next to nothing. There’s one incredibly crackly YouTube video of a single track from this album, a Discogs page, and the occasional online auction listing. All are pretty sparse in terms of information.

Even their discogs page is a mess. It didn’t even have this album on it (I added it last week). However, the pages for the two albums it did have credit Hideki Matsutake as a “synthesizer conductor.” That didn’t surprise me one bit. I actually suspected these records were of his creation the moment I first listened to them.

I’ve mentioned Matsutake here a few times in the past. He played some synthesizers and sequencers on some of YMO’s albums, and he also released plenty of music as a solo artist under the name Logic System. I think he’s a genius and one of the greatest electronic musicians of all time.

I met him once.

I’m a fan.

He’d be the Wendy Carlos of Japan if Tomita wasn’t already the Wendy Carlos of Japan. He is an incredibly early pioneer of electronic music and deserves far more recognition than he has. Dude is epic. Check out anything he put out, or was even associated with, from the early-70s to mid-80s and just prepare to have your mind blown. He was leap years ahead of his time with the kind of stuff he was pulling off with even the most basic tools.

I imagine that this record, and the others that he put out as “Beautiful Shateau & Synthesizer” have to be some of of his earliest releases. They’re definitely pre-YMO, with their ultra-minimal, definitely monophonic synthesizer sound. However, I can’t confirm this100% because, and here’s the crazy thing, none of the “Shateau” records have any kind of copyright or release date information on them at all. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. And if you know anything about Japanese albums, that’s pretty odd. Many of them label their release date down to the day. For these records to not even have a basic copyright date is just bizarre. And I know it’s not just my copies missing this information. Everywhere I look, whenever I can turn up anything about these albums, the year is always blank or listed as “unknown.”

They’re records outside of time. Creepy.

This one certainly falls under the “not for everyone” camp, and I know this. I’m not going to complain if you don’t like this (but don’t be a dick and comment about how much you don’t like it, okay?) but I thought that this had to be shared for a few reasons. First of all, it’s probably one of, if not the, earliest release by a true innovator of electronic music. If for nothing else, this deserves to be archived and shared for that alone. Additionally, while I’m an alien to the source material, I still find the versions on this album entertaining and worth a listen. The soothing melodies combined with the harsh synthesizer tunes make it sound like easy listening music from another planet or something. It’s groovy stuff. Beck would sample this shit if he knew about it.

Unfortunately, whoever owned this album before me really fucking loved it and played the shit out of it. Or they hated it and used it as sandpaper. Either way, it’s banged up pretty bad. I did my best to give a good digital polish with scratch and noise removal software, but there’s only so much I can do with an all-synthesizer record like this. The software that removes cracks, crackles and whatnot often picks up the harsh, peaking sounds of an early synthesizer as noise, and tries to remove them too. I’ve done my best to clean this up, but it’s a bit more scratchy than my usual rips and for that I apologize. I do plan on sharing more of the “Shateau” albums in the future, and while the other ones don’t sound great, they all sound better than this one.

Hope you don’t mind the scratches too much, and hope you enjoy some ultra-rare ultra-early ultra-awesome electronic music by an ultra-legend of the industry.