God, I miss Boston. I lived there for four years, just like hundreds of thousands of student-aged people, and suffice to say I became attached to the city. There's something about the way the sports fans were still fanatical about teams that never won championships, the way you can walk pretty much anywhere, the uneven streets that don't conform to a grid pattern in the slightest, the bridge measured in Smoots, and the relatively short buildings that just made me feel at home.

And then there was the music scene. I've heard the whole range of comments on the music scene in Boston, from "it's awful" to "it's wicked good," and I fall somewhere toward the latter opinion. Boston gets tons of good shows, all reliably falling in a few choice venues, the Phoenix gets the word out admirably (for free, no less), and there are about a hundred hardcore scenesters you can bet will be at any show you turn up at (I knew most of them by sight, none of them by name). And of course, Boston turns out crop after crop of great leftfield bands, going back to The Standells in the 60s, The Modern Lovers and The Cars in the 70s, Mission of Burma, The Pixies and Treat Her Right in the 80s, and Morphine and The Dambuilders (Hawaiian transplants though they were) in the 90s.

Maybe it's just all the academics in the air, but the Boston/Cambridge area produces a hugely disproportionate number of artsy pop bands for its population. I always tried to show up early to shows so I could catch locals like The Fly Seville, Baby Ray, Apollo Sunshine, and these guys, Hip Tanaka. I first caught them on a local bill with a couple bands I've forgotten about, and their spiky blender pop hooked me right as I was walking in the door.

Their debut album, The Sky Is Smaller Than the Sea, had them coming off like a punkier They Might Be Giants, and it's kept its place on my shelves after a couple of moves. Splinter is the band's third full-length, and it actually shows their attention spans getting shorter, smashing most of its songs into durations of well under three minutes.

Oddly, they kick the album off with the weakest track, the nebulous warm-up of "Ready or Not", but slide into their groove nicely on the second song, the spastic explosion of melody called "Heart Attacks & Autographs". The songs get gradually better as the disc spins on, too, and by the time you get past the halfway point and into the rubber rhythms of "6,000,000,000 (And Counting)", they're pounding out the tight, layered pop with seemingly little effort. "Dr. Highway" splashes loose harmonies over chunky riffs and melodic bass, occasionally slipping into a beat that wants to be disco, but never takes the full plunge. They manage to cram a lot into the song's three minutes and change, including a slamming electronic bridge full of buzzing sawtooth waves and bleeping noises.

"Heyday" is the true highlight, though, with its stacks of vocals and careening guitar parts. The a capella break in the middle is full of claustrophobic tension, but the chorus smashes down the walls and insinuates itself into the very fiber of your being before the layers peel back for the exposed denouement. It's 3½ minutes of freakish pop perfection that's just as challenging as it is catchy. And that's really the strength of Hip Tanaka-- their music approaches you on what seem like your terms, and then abruptly pelts you with a hail of curve balls. With Splinter, Hip Tanaka provide just enough of a pop furnace blast to keep you wanting more. Things look as good as ever in Boston.

-Joe Tangari, June 6th, 2003