It’s pretty rare for Japanese artists to visit Australia, so it’s always a special treat when one decides our little Island nation for a concert. Yama has, for the past few years, been a staple of the J-Pop and Anime scene, having started out (like many others now coveted in the industry) as a Vocaloid cover artist. Since those days, Yama has gone on to achieve many accolades within the industry, producing a great deal of original albums and singles, as well as creating music for Spy X Family, Daemons of the Shadow Realm, and even Gundam. Going on about accolades tells little about the music, but well, the music Yama has endeavoured to create mostly speaks for itself. Clear vocals backed by groovy J-rock instrumentals, Yama’s songs give a distinct feeling of hopping between the rocks of a clear forest stream, the sun filtered generously through lush leaves. That is to say, they’re quite refreshing to listen to, even after the millionth time.
Packed into Northcote Theatre in Melbourne, the venue set quite a nostalgic tone from the get-go. The Opener, Eli Wan, stirred the crowd with a distinctly spirited performance, engaging with the audience through music and dialogue. Though the music wasn’t my personal cup of tea, it’s hard to deny their work rallied the crowd before the main event. Yama’s show started with a (in the words of my partner) “EPIC KEYBOARD SOLO ENTRANCE”. As she stepped out donning her now famous eye mask and iconic blue hair, the crowd was already bordering on hysterics in cheers… Which were pretty quickly silenced as her voice pierced through the piano for the first song, ‘Sanagi’.
From the first breaths that left her mouth, any doubts and worries of her vocals were pretty easily discarded. Crisp as if standing in a recording studio, every note and nuance in the lyrics unmissed, ‘Sanagi’ was a brilliant choice for an opening song, it’s Yama through and through. I have a lot of love for Sanagi; it’s one of those songs filled with desperation and a heavy, smothered hope, being unable to look away from the light even while buried in mud. I sat there unmoving, unable to break attention even to take a picture. It was enchanting, hearing it being sung in front of me felt like I was listening to it for the first time again. This opening song did its job, my mood was set to ecstatic for the rest of the night. Also to note that joining Yama on stage were musicians playing drums and piano, both sporting face wear in the same style as the singer, both of whom performed flawlessly throughout the show.
Moving to the second song, ‘Shikisai’, it already felt like I’d be betting against impossible odds if I was hoping she’d miss a beat (not that there was ever any doubt that THE Yama would or could). The transition to a more lighthearted, feel good song felt like her reassuring us that the night wouldn’t be filled with only the bittersweet, and that grooving was not just permitted, but a group activity. The crowd was definitely reciprocating that sentiment, they had passed the border of hysterics and were cheering as if a helicopter were passing over the deserted island we were stranded on. With this song, I want to mention that Japanese music is kind of hard to sing well, especially when the tempo starts to speed up.
Often, and especially on stage (and almost guaranteed at karaoke), you’ll catch a singer mumbling or mixing together syllables and words. In the best case, it’s groovy and a bit more difficult to sing, but most of the time, it becomes a tad unintelligible. I mention this because this was almost completely absent in Yama’s songs and in her live vocal performances. What impressed me wasn’t that every syllable was enunciated with clarity, it was the fact that Yama was able to preserve subtle shifts in tone within single syllables and double time syllables, every time. While it’s certainly not a barometer for an artist’s ability to make music, it is a very difficult challenge that distinguishes a talented performer. To make a concert memorable, this ability is a surefire way to achieve that. If you listen to Yama's discography, you’ll already get a pretty good idea of what to expect of her live singing voice- but experiencing it in the flesh is a kind of opulence for the soul that I feel quite fortunate to have witnessed.
Following on from ‘Shikisai’, we stepped off the bus headed for the promised Grooveland, into Grooveland actually, the crowd made it too. ‘U and I’ and ‘Twilight’ were both songs that firmly compelled the bobbing of the head with their mix of modern and 80’s city-pop. With a short introduction in between, we were now in the meat and potatoes of the feast Yama has been cooking up.
The body of the show was where Yama’s range as an artist really shines, you first notice it in the genres. In addition to the first few, she took us into her world, one unconstrained and well travelled. Into Jazz, through ballads, back into J-Rock, we were spoiled and without a moment to feel unengaged. Then you notice it in her vocal range, within a single song, or even from one line to the next. She’s able to go from her usual bright, clear tone to a lower, breathy rasp that scratches an itch in just the right spot. Which brings me to my favourite song, ‘Tobou yo’.
‘Tobou yo’ is on the newer side of Yama’s releases, as the first ending theme for Fullmetal Alchemist creator Hiromu Arakawa's new work ‘Daemons of the Shadow Realm’. From the first time I’d heard it in the anime’s closing credits, I had always held onto the sense that this song was something particularly special. Going into the concert, I was really hopeful that she would perform this one, and my god, did she perform it. From the first piano note that rang out through the theatre, a chill spiked up my spine as I’d just heard the winning numbers of a lottery that were printed on my ticket. What followed, from the stage, through the microphone and out into the air of the venue, was a dose of the purest catharsis I’d experienced. I put down my camera, for the first time since the start, emptied myself of the pursuit of capturing images, and lived in a moment that I hope not to forget.
I promise you now that I’m not glazing any of this for the sake of glazing. Maybe it’s a bias of personal opinion that makes me unable to put into words, anything less than unfiltered adoration, but this song has altered some trajectory in the way my brain thought patterns function.
I love this song for the same reason most of my favourite songs join the pantheon of playlist mainstays- it reminds me, so caught up in the bustle and hustle, about what being human and alive means. Ostensibly, this song is guided by melancholy, something that comes on through my headphones, on the most beautiful day imaginable, sunset and godrays and all and still manages to make me twinge with a bit of sadness. It’s dire, tired, the words shared with another at the end of wits, hoping for a better tomorrow.
The instrumental score of this song isn’t anything extravagant, on the plainer side, but in concert with vocals that swing low then soar into the sky, it’s a loud, peaceful song that I very much enjoy and have been eagerly waiting for a chance to froth about. The sadness it produces in my brain, the worried desperation laden within the lyrics, Yama’s performance, ragged yet strong. They’re all presented in a wretched beauty that plainly highlights the necessity of contrast. “To Err is human”, we make mistakes, we feel the 3 am blues for no good reason, the twinges of sadness still circle above us on the sunniest, happiest of days, but how else are you going to recognise all the good there is in life? This isn’t a ‘curtain is blue’ moment, it’s a piece about music written by a Philosophy major, there was only one way this would go.
Also, I’d like to believe that I got some confirmation that the psychological experiences I get from Yama’s music is by design. Before the last song, Yama produced a sheet of paper, which contained some of her thoughts and feelings translated into English. She spoke about how she’d written the next song after she had climbed a mountain, and how the view had inspired her in its beauty. She talked about her anxieties of performing on stage, and how overcoming that had been a very important milestone to her. Her speech conveyed a feeling that is rather resistant to description with simple words, it didn’t need to be anything more her song, ‘Mountain’ did the rest. Please give it a listen if you haven’t already.
On another note, I wanna point out that concerts in Australia are weirdly hilarious in how we will always try to indoctrinate foreign artists with the one chant universally wailed throughout the land. The one that starts with 3 “Aussie”s, and ends with a crowd of indeterminate size replying enthusiastically with “OI OI OI”. If the crowd is spirited enough, it will usually catch the artist’s attention. I’m so glad to say that, Melbourne, we did not disappoint.
Before the heartfelt speech, one brave soul with vigor in their voice shouted out the sleeper agent activation phrase, and the entire room, matching rhythm and ferocity, replied OI OI OI. Confusion was probably the first thought that crossed Yama’s mind, but it only took a second round to fully transmit the welcome package to her. We probably did the Australian national chant another two or three more times with her as our ringleader. It was nothing short of glorious, I’m really glad that happened.
After ‘Mountain’, Yama bid her farewell and departed the stage. Not 20 seconds passed before the entire room swelled with encore chanting so loudly, it was like we were competing with the speakers in the room. Normally, the window between the ‘last song’ and the encore exists to give the artists a bit of time to rest and recover. Yama and her instrumentalists were back out before 5 minutes. They delivered an encore that properly and completely grooved the crowd out, ending with ‘Haru wo Tsugeru’, Yama’s breakout hit.
After two songs, the concert was over. For two hours, it had provided sanctuary for the wary souls within its walls. Though it was over, it felt like being in that room, listening to Yama’s soul represented by her music, imparted a lasting buff for all to take as a souvenir. It wasn’t anything extravagant, more like a pat on the back and an encouragement to see the view atop the mountain.
Thanks for coming, Yama. I really enjoyed your show.
Written and shot by Luka (aka Heart.seeed)
