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Articles:
The Giri in the
M.E.N
Featured in the Manchester Evening
News 25/10/02
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| It's
filthy work (but Tsuji Giri gotta do it) |
|
"WE'RE
pro-filth," announces Danny, the guitarist in the skewed
echo-rock band from Oldham, Tsuji Giri. And life pro-filth,
like life within the samuari tradition from which they take
their name, takes faith. So much faith that the four members
have sacrificed their surmames to the cause, so Martin Giri
(vocals), Danny Giri (guitar), Ivan Giri (bass) and Phil
Giri (drums) live in an insular, filthy world.
"Flithy isn't just
prurience," says Martin in his trademark comedy sneer.
It's more a sort of...areas glossed over and made clean
by glossy popular culture, media and suchlike. Anything
that's got a bit of an edge to it that isn't really supposed
to be there, and glossed over and put to one side in what
pop does and what nu-metal does, and what people who go
out drinking in Fallowfield and look like Hollyoaks do.
We're more honest about what people are like."
So you're restoring the
balance of the universe?
"I think that's a
bit too modest actually!"
Perhaps, but considering
the dark forces stirred up on their new Poison Light EP,
it certainly feels spooky that we meet in our city centre
bar the day Manchester endured three earthquakes. A six-tracker
shared with allies The Sonar Yen ("one of the best
bands that any of us have heard or seen,") it's the
latest release from Soviet Union.
Both bands make an unremitting, post-rock sort of noise,
but Tsuji are the poppier, seething half. Signature tune
Gotta Love The War takes the seamy side of The Smiths, but
surrenders control of its motor functions. |
By their
own admission, the Giri spent their early days in an Oldham
vacuum, until two years ago, when the current Manc Rock
Revolution first started to emerge.They found contemporaries
in the likes of Valerie, Jackie O and the Strap-Ons, who
shared the lust for filth. "The last two years have
been an upward spiral," says Danny, "because we've
found the extra mile with what we listen to and enjoy and
make something that's a bit dark and different."And
how far would this go? Would you go on a support tour with
Toploader? Martin: "Yeah, we'd love it! Because if
there's one wavering person who just went along because
they're friend's kind of into them. If we manage to make
one of them experience something a bit visceral"
Would you sell your songs
to a car advert? Martin: "No, you don't want the track
that you lost tour virginity to on a car advert." Even
a nice one like Aqualung?
Danny: "I heard that
on the advert and thought it was bloody awful and then I
heard the whole song and thought it was even worse because
there was more of it."
Would you invite OK magazine into your lovely home?
Ivan: "I'd let them into someone else's home! Come
in here! Here's the living room!!" But that's the spook.
Tsuji Giri comes from the samauri practice of testing out
a new sword on a peasant to make sure it doesn't fall apart.
And though they won't hate you for liking Toploader, they
just want you to see a better way.
"That's how we view our `band-audience-dynamic',"
sneers Martin for a final time.
"It's ideologically unsound, but the spirit of the
thing is kind of what we're about. Randomly assaulting people
for the fun of it!" |
Text
by Dan Martin. Picture (not featured in original article)(c) 2002
Tina McClelland.
Tsuji
Giri and Sonar Yen in City Life
Featured in City Life 9-24
October 2002
 |
 |
| Tsuji-Giri:-
the ancient Japanese Samurai or Ronin rite of ambushing
an innocent passerby in order to test the quality of a newly
purchased knife, blade or sword
Over eighteen months, Tsuji
Giri have mesmerised and charmed audiences at several Chairsmissing
events with their gorgeous, distinctive alt. rock and unpretentious
approach.
Within the opening rip
shot chords of songs like the fantastic ‘Synthasizin’,
these four shy lads ambush the audience, tearing out their
eardrums and stamping the bass into their hearts. Why they
haven’t been snapped up yet by an eccentric millionaire
baffles them, hence the involvement of benevolent but humble
godfathers, Jon Ashley and Mike Gray.
“Jon and Mike had
worked with Oceansize and decided that they’d got
them to a suitable level,” Says singer Martin Greenwood.
“Basically they thought that we are both very under
acknowledged bands in Manchester and they wanted to give
our sorry sackcloth arses a hitch up.”
Having a unique rhythm
section in the form of technically brilliant bassist Ivan
Hall and Phil ‘Consi’ Considine on drums, Martin’s
rhythm guitar and primal scream vocals play off against
the raging walls of sound created by guitarist Danny Saul.
Despite their affability,
there’s a dark heart to the ‘Giri, “More
than ever, people are very isolated and gaspingly aware
of their own insignificance,” Martin says.
“Music should take
personal experiences and make them sound huge and important,
beautiful, wild and crazy. It takes those emotions and dignifies
them and that leads back to the filth. In all cultures,
dirt implies matter that’s out of place and I think
that’s exactly what we are.”
"All our experiences
are judged by their ‘Giri-ness’ and life’s
getting interesting when your activities have achieved a
high level of ‘Giri-osity’,” says Danny.
Martin continues, “Somebody
told me the other day that they’d been playing our
CD and suddenly their son decided to set fire to his bedroom
for a laugh. That’s probably as Giri as it gets." |
Put
The Sonar Yen on the front cover of the NME, award them
a Mercury Music Prize and then grant them a ‘Lifetime
Achievement’ at the MTV Music Awards and not a single
member would bat an eyelid. The Sonar Yen are a band in
the purest sense, four ordinary lads driven by a compulsion
to make outstanding music. They’d rather become musical
hermits than sacrifice themselves to the lure of hype and
publicity.
“Well, we put posters
up, but we just don’t feel the need to get in people’s
pockets,” says singer Mike O’Neill.
“Our website?”
laughs drummer Tim Horrocks. “There’s nothing
on it. It’s abandoned with pictures of people’s
holiday photos on it.”
The Sonar Yen have been
in existence for almost two years, graduating from their
spiritual gigging home of Oldham Castle to equally welcoming
venues in Manchester. Sonically intense without being over-complicated,
their songs speak volumes above and beyond their disdain
for a fashionable image or onstage gimmicks.
Mike: “We like to
let the music speak for itself, live and recorded. We don’t
say anything live, it’s best not to ruin it. You don’t
want some idiot talking about the weather and anyway, we
don’t have the charisma to do it.”
Sometimes, they’re
guilty of dropping some of their most outstanding songs
in case it starts to become routine, as Mike says, “When
you’re up there and your playing a song and you cant
even feel it ‘cos you played it that many times, you’d
rather do new stuff and get a bigger rush off that.”
With songs such as ‘Christian
Lies’ and ‘Breaking Point’, the spiritual
weight of the world seems to hang heavily over their young
heads. “Our music is about getting you away from the
mundane-ness of life,” Mike concedes. “We want
to create a bit of imagery, you don’t want stuff about
your mates or your girlfriend, that’s boring.”
Mike looks pensive, “There’s
art and then there’s entertainment,” he mutters,
quietly but confidently capturing the essence of his band. |
Text
by Lianne Steinberg.
Giri Picture
(c) 2002 Tina McClelland | Yen Picture (c) 2002 Karen McBride
The
Giri on manchestermusic.co.uk
Tsuji Giri EP -
File under: “Where should they be now?”
Guitar, rock n roll,
alternative or whatever you want to call it is arguably at an
all-time low. Fresh new bands that one could once believe in seem
all but gone. Music that is supposed to represent individuality
appears to be so pseudo-emotional and safe with rare exception.
This sounds a) rather harsh, b) nostalgic and c) defeatist. It’s
not. Has long has it been since real musical radicals were kicking
up something worthwhile? We have been totally jaded by the B-team.
The term “punk” has largely been leached of its original
meaning. We have twee acoustic no marks earnestly whinging about
nothing in particular. We have nu-metal baboons grunting about
just as little. We have a conservative, out-of-touch music press
desperate to safely scrape the next big thing from a rusty old
barrel. It is wholeheartedly deflating to see Tsuji Giri, a band
that offers more than a breather and a real alternative, soldier
on into obscurity.
Tsuji Giri are a real 21st century
rock n roll band. They’re not the new Beatles, Who or Led
Zeppelin. Thank God. When the present to many, seems dark, daunting
and uncharted and only the rich past seems to offer comfort and
complacency, the Giri are not afraid.
To those that require a bit of
encouragement to go and discover, here’s your soundbite.
Some say they’re like a particularly spiky and angsty Sonic
Youth blended with a sizeable chunk of My Bloody Valentine/Mogwai
ethereality. A syncopated rhythm section that nods as towards
much to jazz and drum n bass as it does to rock, glides unself-consciously
alongside the dual intensities of delicately shimmering or discordantly
searing guitar. More than the icing on this double-choc cheesecake
is an emotive vocal that weaves its own distinctively tender path
through each track, avoiding plunges into the ravine of whingy
melodrama. To summarise, this is schizophrenic, refreshing personal
music and it rocketh the cobwebs away on its own terms.
“Interviews are a piece
of piss. I’ve got my questions written down. All I have
to do is read them out”, sayeth one novice interviewer to
himself.
Wrong.
I have fatally forgotten that
bands can have a sense of humour. One fodder question in and everything’s
ok. I prematurely nosedive into the serious stuff asking how Tsuji
Giri formed. Giri bassist, Ivan Hall rebuts without intention
of seriously answering a single question.
“We were in a police cell.
It turned out that we were all musicians. So we formed this pretence
of a gig, but secretly it was an escape plan…A tunnel which
we dug under the stage…”
Martin joins in with the games,
“…failed spectacularly because the place that we emerged…was
a police dog training centre.”
“Ah Jeez!” I sigh
to myself, resembling one of those yokels in Fargo. Panic swells
up. I forget where I am and what I’m meant to be doing.
I desperately try to get myself back on track.
“Er…Do you like crisps,
then?”
Thankfully one deep breath and
a large slug of Grolsch and the interview is fixed.
Himelfield – What has made
this band work?
Martin – Just the personel,
purely. It’s just finally got the right people w/ the right
kind of attitude and the right desire to go the extra mile of
filth.
H – What sort of attitude
and desire?
M – There’s just
a kind of lowness. We’re willing to pick certain scabs that
other people’d leave alone b/c it’d make too much
mess and it’d be too painful…musically speaking and
physically sometimes.
H – What do you think makes
great music?
M – Willingness to pick
the scabs (laughter) that other music leaves alone.
H – I’m going to
delve deeper. What do you mean by these “scabs”. Do
you mean doing things that are difficult to do and therefore scare
people away? Like exploring uncharted waters?
D – It’s about not
being lax; basically committing yourself to do something that
you’re not gonna dick about with.
H – What music has been
the biggest influence on you?
M – We were both kind of
wanking each other off with Sonic Youth and the Afghan Whigs and
people like that. Just people that were doing something different
with guitars, in a loud and beautiful way.
H – What do you mean by
different? Do you mean novel?
D – Not novel. Original
and authentic to our own ears without any novel value whatsoever.
M – They were coming up
with sounds that you didn’t find anywhere else.
H – So is that uniqueness
and originality then?
M – Yes…I can’t
really remember what was going on at the time. It was post-grunge
fallout and there was a lot of interesting (stuff) being churned
up. But whatever we wanted to be, it was never, “let’s
be Sonic Youth” or, “let’s be…”.
We were always looking at the horizon and saying, “Yeah,
that’s been done, but what can be done now? Where can we
take this ball that we have found while randomly being sat on
a wall? Can we bounce it off this very high building and catch
it?” (sniggers) Sometimes it’s dark and it’s
very hard to catch. (laughter)
What?! Wait a minute. Stop!!!
I’m just going interrupt
the interview here to clarify something. Martin speaks in quirky
metaphors. This isn’t because he’s arrogant or pretentious.
It is perhaps like how he explains his lyrics. As you will discover
below, he expresses agitation and dissatisfaction through more
indirect and colourful, sometimes humorous means. Probably. This
is just one of Tsuji Giri’s many refreshing twists. It’s
also possible that Martin is extracting the urine from an inexperienced
interviewer.
D – I think that the primary
thing that Tsuji Giri does is rocks and works to / attacks a lot
of things that don’t rock. Albeit that they play (for) laughs
or (it’s) packaged to entice people towards stuff that not
in any way rocking.
H – So what rocks you?
D – Anything that’s
done with real conviction, but it’s such a personal thing.
H – How important is presentation
for a band?
M –Well, I think we’d
be very disappointed with ourselves if we saw a video of our gig
and we weren’t writhing about much. But it’s not like
we start a performance and go, “let’s writhe about.”
We want to get into what we’re doing as much as possible.
H – I say this because
there seems to be a contrast between what Martin does and what
Danny, Ivan and Phil do.
D – Well, it’s certainly
not a preconceived idea. It’s how you feel on the night.
M – It is very depressing
watching a band who are just static. But then again, that depends
on the music that’s coming out of it. Our stuff rocks and
therefore, we rock.
H – The rhythm section
of Tsuji Giri is quite atypical for such a punky sort of band.
For example it says on the website that Ivan has a “contempt
for the obvious note”. Why did you decide to incorporate
that?
Phil – It’s not really
a case of incorporating …
I – It comes from not being
in bands and playing on me own. I’ve not had guitarist people
telling (me) what not to play.
D – That’s a very,
very important point. Add to the fact that in his bedroom, his
dad’s a music teacher, so constantly in the background you
can hear this superfluous noise. Scales all the time…He’s
(Ivan) untouched, really.
I – I see him (Phil) as
a drummer that can get his arms around the kit and (he) experiments
and stuff which gives me ample room.
H – Does this odd type
of rhythm section reflect the music that you’re into?
P – It’s not a conscious
decision…Well, it is a bit, but it’s not first and
foremost.
I – Before I was in the
Giri, I wasn’t listening to any guitar music at all. I listened
to jazz and drum n bass.
H – How important do you
think lyrics are?
M – Lyrics are essential
in a way because you don’t want to be singing something
that makes people think, “ugh!” and puts you off the
music that’s happening which you do want to be into…I
don’t go for any particular narrative…I try to get
things that are congruent with the sensations that are coming
out in the music. In a way they’re vital, in the way the
particular note that you’re playing at a certain point is
vital because it has to harmonise with what’s going on.
H – Are there any particular
themes in your lyrics?
(laughter)
M – They’re not all
about wanking!
H – Was there one about
that, then?
I – There’s one not
about wanking!
M – There was a stage where
bad sex and masturbation were themes floating around but only
in a way that was a means of expressing various disquiet and unease.
H – So does your subject
matter veer toward disquiet and unease?
M –Absolutely. Any kind
of darkness and torment and mad rushes of euphoria followed by
sharp plunges into the dark underside of the soul.
H – A representation of
the uncertain modern world, would you say?
M – Yeah. A certain fucked
up-ness which speaks of a certain aliveness which is exactly what
the Giri’s music is about, I think.
H – Do you think that a
meaningless lyric is a wasted lyric?
D – It depends what you
put it to.
M – Yes. Nothing is meaningless
because it’s supposed to involve a certain empathy with
the kind of emotion or feeling or whatever that’s being
conveyed. And whether you’re saying, “Salty Banana”,
if it’s said in such a way or put to such a track that it
chimes off you and gives you a certain feeling, then it’s
done its job…It doesn’t matter whether you take it
out of its context and it means anything then. As soon as it affects
you, it isn’t meaningless.
H – What are your views
on popular contemporary guitar music?
D – The majority of stuff
in the music press of a contemporary nature is 15 minutes of fame
nonsense. It isn’t of great interest or value to me personally.
But I think there’s absolutely tons and tons of wonderfully
rocking music.
H – Give an example of
some of these “15 minutes of fame” bands.
M – Well, I mean the whole
Hives, Vines, Strokes thing.
D – There was this “This
is Emo” article a couple of months ago in the N.M.E. and
I’m thinking, “That was about 1996. What year is this?”
H – Why do you think that
the music press like the N.M.E. choose to champion bands like
that and say things like, “these are the bands that you
are going to like”?
I – Their sales are falling.
M –And there’s pleasure
in discovering something first. They’re desperate to find
the next big thing. They’re just sitting in their offices
in London thinking, “What can we safely create next?”
H – You say that you get
more pleasure from local music than from bands that are popular
at the moment. Why’s that?
M – There’s just
something so vital and exciting about some of the bands. There’s
a thrill from it that you just can’t get anywhere else.
There’s so much inventiveness out there.
D – Do you think that this
mancunian “scene” is exceptional or do you think that
there are many such scenes elsewhere?
M – I’ve not idea
how unique what’s going on in M/cr is. I know that there’s
supposedly things happening in places like Leeds and Dulwich!
H – Do you think that there’s
a lack of inventiveness in popular music at the moment?
M – Absolutely. There’s
crazy-ass fun things going on, but in a very limited way, like
the Hives-Strokes thing. It reminds me of what happened when Oasis
came along because their stuff was so retrospective and in a way,
admitting defeat because (it was) like (saying), “We can’t
go further than we’ve already been, so what we’re
going to do is just play it a bit louder, hope it sticks and just
celebrate that.” But in a way, the Strokey-Hivey thing is
doing a similar thing to that, but I like the kind of music they’re
into more than I do the kind of music Oasis are into.
H – Does the M/cr scene
have a good idea of where it stands within the bigger musical
picture? Do you think there’s an incestuousness and/or a
complacency?
M – There is an incestuousness.
As for complacency, there’s a very large “what the
fuck do we do now” thing…Bands have known about each
other for a long time and when we all found each other, we were
so happy about it and so shocked, surprised and full of glee that
we thought some kind of explosion was around the corner…that
we were suddenly going to Seattle out into the world, which obviously
never happened. But since then, we’ve as bands just got
stronger and stronger. Although they’re not quite in the
same area that we are, the fact that Oceansize have got on the
diamond-laden path is encouraging in a way. Maybe there’ll
be some focus thrown back.
H – In respect of the reticence
of the press and the record industry, what’s the climate
like for band like yours to ascend to bigger pastures?
M – It’s all a matter
of luck. Obviously the amount of effort we put into it is a part
of it.
H – Has anyone of anything
been particularly helpful? Is there enough help there?
M – People like the Sov(iet)
Twins have been great b/c they’re doing a wonderful thing
for us putting this single out with The (Sonar) Yen, and it’s
costing less than our last 2 demos to get national release. The
Manchester music (.co.uk) thing does a lot for the scene. It gives
bands the first reviews they’ve ever had.
H – Has anything else been
helpful/unhelpful e.g. the media?
M – Well, they’re
scared little bunnies who don’t want to touch anything unless
it’s a dead cert.
H – Is that the same with
record labels?
M – I suppose it is for
the majority of them. We had Nude (records) sniffing around us
for a while.
H – What happened there?
M – Oh God! Somebody put
him (an agent of Nude) onto us and he heard our demo and liked
it and came to see us rehearse. The whole set up was odd and strange.
We met him for a pint and exchanged nervous small talk and then
dragged him up to a rehearsal room, which was about 6 foot square
and he’s just stood leaning against the wall while our amps
are lined up against him like cannons! And we’re just there,
having to do a gig for this one bloke, playing our decidedly noisy
stuff while he’s looking for the next Suede or something.
It was a depressing experience.
H – A typical experience
that reflects the current climate with record labels at the moment,
would you say?
M – I think so. Yes. You
can’t be utterly dejected and cynical about it all because
there are labels out there releasing stuff by people that is a
fantastic quality. So you can’t give up and dismiss it as
a no hoper.
D – The people who own
those labels are also doing things to support their labels. I
think in terms financially to take a risk… is a thing that
they can’t afford to make a living on.
H – In an ideal world where
should the future of guitar music lie?
I – Up my arse!
M – Where it shocks me.
What I’ve always wanted it to do is to shock me and make
me thrilled that someone is doing something I’ve never heard
before. I can’t predict that. I don’t want to know
what it is because I don’t want it to be an anticlimax for
me. That is what it has constantly shown it still has the power
to do…Despite the rise of electronic music, which is doing
some fabulous things itself, guitar music still managed to find
a way to be relevant and give you a live kick and a recorded kick
that is utterly unique in what it does and there’s still
so much mileage left in it.
H – Is that why you’ve
chosen Tsuji Giri to be a guitar, bass and drums set up?
M – You could from some
perspective and say, “ how utterly conventional”,
but I know what we’re doing isn’t utterly conventional
and that we’re not sat there with a tray full of circuitry.
So much of that stuff that is self-consciously trying to be the
future of music is so utterly lame as well and really fails in
pushing any kind of medium of the guitar or electronic or strange,
exciting hybrid because it’s self-consciously and doesn’t
let the music do what it wants to do which is to get on and get
you off your arse.
H – Where do you want to
take Tsuji Giri?
I – Up the arse!
D – To a point where it
releases things that haven’t been tampered with by horrible
people who don’t know or don’t really care what it’s
about to us, and that’ll do.
H – What sort of message,
outlook etc. do you want to bring to people?
M – There’s loads
of things. Just don’t settle for lameness in any form.
D – Don’t believe
the hype…
M – Yeah, man! (Laughter)…Just
don’t settle for anything less than filth.
H – Are there any funny
names that you’ve been given accidentally instead of Tsuji
Giri?
D – Titsu Jerry.
M – Tissue Girl
D – Teh-suji Guery is the
common one.
I – The Stoogy Guru.
It is obvious that Tsuji Giri
are a band that value some of the most crucial yet often neglected
aspects that make music sincere, relevant and soul satisfying.
The music more than substantiates that. Their music may be intricate,
but it is far from arcane. It is just as primal as it is profound.
Tsuji Giri’s struggle for recognition speaks intense volumes
about the reticence of the music media and industry, almost comprehensively.
This is particularly disheartening when the underground has so
much to offer. With a little ambition, bands like Tsuji Giri and
co. are more than capable of breaking this crippling cycle. It
may take years of frustration but we’ll hold our breath
until then, even if that means suffocation.
text by
Dave Himelfield pic © 2002 Karen McBride |