It wasn't like this last time. Where there had been birds and restless natives, there are now supernovas and hyperdrives, and the out of touch has become the inverted. With this wonderful surround sound, what I had considered a wonderful piece of escapist communal catharsis is now transformed into space age abstraction. But the sunny vibe is still there, and I'm sure that's Eye behind the controls, so whatever dizziness or isolation I may experience is probably without warrant. And yet I can't shake the feeling that this is something new and important. What will I write about it? How do describe the evolution of intelligence without remaking 2001: A Space Odyssey? And most importantly, how did these guys come so far in such a short period of time? This is the story of Boredoms and their music for starchildren.

Boredoms started out as your run-of-the-mill hardcore, noise, thrash, funk, dadaist, experimental, sophomoric, no wave, no future, acid haze, surrealist, metallic, Jurassic, cut up, alternative-to-everything, solution-to-nothing, pop-in-a-blender, avant-supreme, workingman's hyped-up rock band in the early 80's in Japan. Although their earliest stuff is rather blunt, it does offer quite a few options for anyone tired of, well, everything. The music is not so much tuneful as painful. It is, at once, full of zest and bravado, and sometimes just stupid. Onanie Bomb Meets Sex Pistols (which contained their first two Japanese releases) hit American shores in 1989; some were shocked at the level of idiocy and destructive tendencies in the music, while others just looked at song titles like "Anal Eater" and "Lick 'm Cock Boatpeople" and turned the other cheeks. Of course, most people didn't notice, and it's something of a shame because the world hadn't seen such a good No Wave act since Suicide's Martin Rev spit on his first fan.

The band responded to their nay-sayers by acting as if nothing ever happened, and in turn attracted such Yankee luminaries as John Zorn and Thurston Moore. For some reason, the band seemed to appeal more to the experimental audience than any others, and when it came time to book the second stage at the second Lollapalooza, Boredoms got their first real American props. It was good timing, as Warner Brothers was releasing the band's third album, 1993's Pop Tatari, which Spin called the most non-commercial album ever released by a major label. I suppose the band trusted Spin about as much as I do, because their next album, 1994's Chocolate Synthesizer, was even more of a slap in the face to anyone who ever struggled to get signed to a major than Tatari was. It seemed that there was no end to their persistent, uncommonly devastative music.

Then, there was an end. In 1993, the band had recorded a seemingly one-off EP entitled Super Roots. Its music, and that of the limited edition follow-up, 1994's Super Roots 2, were basically extensions of their by-then familiar avant-punk. But just after Synthesizer, they released part three in the series, which consisted of but one tune, 33 minutes in length. The track was really just a hardcore punk song, but it stretched out over the length of a sitcom, and without any breaks, save a two-minute moment of silence at the end. It was an interesting idea, and one they built upon with Super Roots 5, extending the tune to 65 minutes. Of course, the sheer monolithic nature of playing punk for half an hour didn't win many new fans.

The most obvious change in Boredoms' philosophy came from around 1996, when they released Super Roots 6. Unlike anything they had ever done, it featured low key, mostly instrumental tunes influenced more by Can and Neu than hardcore punk. Additionally, unlike all but the first in this series, it was released in America, which meant that anyone with a Blockbuster on their corner and $12 could get in on the ground floor of Boredoms, mark II.

Before most folks had time to digest the new direction (and to be fair, Boredoms are still more than a little obscure), the band changed sounds again. Super Roots 7 was released in Japan in 1998, and expanded the band's arsenal to include the blissfully psychedelic and all that is trippy. It wasn't trance, but it could bring you to the same place, and it was certainly more inviting than anything they'd ever released before. Soon after, they released the acclaimed Super Ae, and have since been stuck in a rather wonderful looping system of sun worship and general repentance for all the damage they'd done the previous 15 years.

Vision Creation Newsun came out in Japan in late '99, and was released in America the following year. For anyone unaware, it was something of a refinement of the hard trance Boredoms explored on Super Roots 7 and Ae, taken to its seemingly logical conclusion. Yamatsuka Eye, possessing an affinity for underground DJ culture, had some of the Boredoms' stuff remixed by various big names (including U.N.K.L.E. and DJ Krush), but apparently wanted to try his hand at the game himself. Rebore Vol. 0 is Eye's remix of Vision Creation Newsun, and helps make the case that Boredoms are one of the great bands of the rock era.

The track titles are as follows: "7," "77," "777," "7777," "77777," "777777," and "7777777." For clarity (or because I can't process more than four numbers at a time), I won't reference songs by name. This should be okay, as the spirit of the record, similar to recent efforts, lies in the whole as opposed to the individual. It follows the track order from Vision Creation Newsun, so anyone familiar with that album should be fine-- not that chronology has ever been a major player in Boredoms' music.

The album begins with something of a fanfare, but there are certainly no trumpets to announce the arrival of this ship. Something like looped war cries (it sounds like drummer Yoshimi, but you never know) resonate over whirlpool reverb and the future shock of congas spliced with dial tone hum. Phased guitars and maraca treatises come in and out of the mix, but over its almost nine-minute duration, the overwhelming feeling is of takeoff-- like a rocket without a rudder, and the final frontier nothing but a prologue.

Once airborne, we're offered any number of puffy, articulate hors d'oeuvres, courtesy of Seiichi Yamamoto's guitar and subtle synth. Eye's remix tends to favor what seemed superficial on Newsun. Most of the pounding percussion has been removed and remodeled to suit the aims of the new breed: reverb, flange, delay, the cut and pasted-- in short, the electronic and altered rather than anything natural. This may be my only complaint with the album; chiefly that while I always enjoy a good trip over the moon, a little earthbound warmth might have been nice.

Elsewhere, we have intrusive drum machines making waste of whatever seams had been left untouched. In another corner is acoustic guitar and light cymbal, left to dry in the sun as if Pro Tools had never happened. I thought I heard an uttering baby in there somewhere, but I'm sure Eye wouldn't subject an infant to this kind trip, lest it come back older than Einstein. Despite the fact that the tracks here are broken up (unlike Newsun's continuous program), the arc of the journey is intact, and anyone who gives an album like this half a chance will probably come out slightly changed.

Rebore Vol. 0 (subtitled Vision Recreation) ends similarly to how it began, with blaring rocket engines and vacuum echo. Of course, the journey back down is invariably more comfortable, if only because you know you're back home again. (Most people probably weren't meant for extended periods in outer space.) Practically speaking, I would recommend this album (despite its hefty import price tag) with the caveat that if you aren't a Boredoms freak, or at least interested in their recent stuff, you might want to start with one of the proper releases. However, there's a part of me that wants to throw this upon unsuspecting masses, to people who aren't normally accustomed to long bouts with insanity. It's beautiful in its way, but for me, it's more of an exploratory thing. Boredoms have come a long way over the years, and that they often push forward at the expense of public acceptance or even familiarity might be reason enough to coast alongside for as long as you're able.

-Dominique Leone, October 8th, 2001