Live In Tokyo: Seagull Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her

Last week in Tokyo I went to see Seagull Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her; what a show, what an experience!

Shibuya is teeming with shiny youths, and humming with some slight excitement, when hit by the missile of Seagull Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her in early May. Boys and girls stand crammed in the aisles of WWW, a reconstructed movie theatre, with little peppery smiles- having heard this film before. I have loved SSKHKH’s manic pop for a long time too, and I know to expect the wondrous in Tokyo; but I’m not prepared.

The band look and sound like the scene of a bedroom after a night of shambolic dreams. Two girls, two boys and this creature Aiha Higurashi – with a blood red guitar, shaker boy hair a black bra and a red Pebbles style dress. Dreams of what? This is spelt out during the course of their set, but one thing is clear from the outset –they are not happy about having had them, Most markedly Aiha is wanting blood. She sings about soda and oranges and water so indignantly that it sounds like a protest song.
The boy guitarists just smile. Despite the fact that as the gig progresses, they start to look more and more like backing singers to the vicious outpouring of sensuality happening centre stage, they look pretty delighted with the situation. Aiha and Nao too look quite content with the cuteness of the whole operation, as they tenderly dig the joyous sounds they are making.

Nonetheless there is an element of seriousness to their delivery. When Aiha commands “let me drive”, it’s no joke: as indicated through her intermittent cries of “fuck!” Likewise scenarios of daggered rejection, bad school lunches, the absence of a telephone and even murder — formed with woeful layers of repetition—are related with an inescapable authenticity; forcing us to admit their emotional reality.

“I saw a man, he was bleeding, ‘cos I shot the man, he was bleeding”. SSKHKH’s vision of the true is patently grotesque – yet it is presented with such steady mirth, minimalism and confidence, that it looks like a lifestyle that works out. The impossible is perfect, they declare in good faith; and tonight’s audience gleefully accepts, because it just sounds so good. As sung in the encore ‘Seventeen’ “your seventeen and I was nineteen, too good to be true it’s too good to be true”. A sentiment echoed all over the face of the bassists, who looks as if he is playing his favourite songs, with his favourite band; in fact they all do. It makes harmonious sense then, when after each encore, an additional member of the band comes out wearing a SSKHKH t-shirt. Afterwards the audience crawl out of the old cinema shell shocked—having never wanted to buy a t-shirt so much.

We would have been happy to redirect you to their online profile(s); seemingly they do not have an online presence ergo making it very difficult for images and videos.

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