by Selina Yang (@y_aniles)
Despite being unspoken representatives for Japanese underground rock, Boris finds themselves bigger hits outside of their home country. Thirty years ago, Atsuo (drums), Takeshi (guitar, bass), and Wata (guitar, keyboard) were Tokyo University punk rockers. Boris, as a phenomenon, is born from 1990s Japan-exclusive tapes traded and exported between those in the know.
There is an irreplicable mystique from this proto-streaming age. Holding a Boris tape was holding an ember in your hands. It’s easy to fall in love with the impending, heavy metal drone of Boris’ earliest releases. As they pivoted to different soundscapes, the limits of your taste were swept along with them. There was the psychedelic noise of hit Akuma No Uta (2003). In the dream pop era of Attention Please (2011), newly bright melodies were still weighted with lead. Boris’ music is niche, but they refuse to stay in one lane.
Currently, Boris is fresh off the heels of releasing Bright New Disease, a collaborative album with New York rockers Uniform. These last few months, the power trio embarked on a 43-stop US tour. Accompanied by old collaborators Melvins, Boris revisited their crown jewel Heavy Rocks (2002), remastered in 2023. The album was first released in 2002 as a Japan-exclusive. Fate forced it to remain that way. An accidental fire broke out at the pressing factory, taking out Heavy Rocks’ stamper, along with the physical copies to be shipped overseas. Decks of traffic-cone orange vinyl were destroyed in a similarly colored blaze.
The story of a lost album fits the band’s narrative: they are valuers of relentless invention, so that even this destruction along the way didn’t stop their stride.
Heavy Rocks is now a snapshot of Boris' history. With the language barrier most of the audience holds, listeners are left to absorb the aura that transcends language. In tandem with the band members’ distinct style, akin to ravens who enjoy Yohji Yamamoto, the band’s cult reputation is only getting stronger. Through Atsuo, I had the opportunity to rack Boris’ brain over the 2023 Heavy Rocks remaster, audience backgrounds, and their identity as artists vs. musicians.
photo credit: Miki Matsushima
Selina: From Boris’ earliest days in the 90s, you’ve had a tradition of releasing live show recordings. Physical copies, such as cassette and VHS, were all produced by Boris and friends. Now, with smartphone videos and video sharing websites, there is a consistent record of Boris 2000s and onwards, with no performance being lost to time. Do you wish your earlier days were, comparatively, thoroughly recorded?
Atsuo: Video footage actually exists for just about every show since our first show. Just recently we transferred about 300 mini DV tapes into digital files. We’re planning to archive them and eventually release them to our fans.
Selina: Heavy Rocks has been through a lot since 2002! In an adrenaline rush, time slows down so that every second is memorable. Do you recall the day of the Heavy Rocks’ record pressing fire, and if so, what was that like? What were your first reactions to the news?
Atsuo: Actually many years had passed before we even heard from the label about the fire or the album being out-of-print.
Selina: No matter the uncertainty after losing the Heavy Rocks stamper, you made it here in the end, remastering it twenty years later. In those twenty years, the story of Heavy Rocks had time to gain intrigue. Overall, could the fire be a good thing in propelling Boris’ cult status?
Atsuo: At that time we had already made two separate masters, one for a domestic Japanese release and another for an overseas release, with one song that was different on the track list. So we feel very satisfied because now, twenty years later, we are finally able to release the track list planned for the overseas release. Because we had kept control of the TD master and recording data on our own, there were no issues regarding the rerelease. We’re incredibly happy that the world can finally hear it.
Selina: What was the process of remastering the lost album like?
Atsuo: The original was only released on CD with considerably high acoustic pressure, and thus not optimal for a vinyl release. So we decided to remaster the whole thing along with a bonus track. With this remaster, there are more important parts you can hear than before, making it an album that you can listen to more deeply.
Selina: With the majority of your audience being non-Japanese, what do they lose out on by not coming from a Japanese background, whether through cultural context or language gap?
Atsuo: In certain aspects we are not really recognized as a genuine Japanese band even among the Japanese, so I think most people probably don’t really understand Boris.
Selina: Like Heavy Rocks, Präparat (2013) also started as a Japan-only pressed record release. What is the value of keeping some things exclusive?
Atsuo: We think the journey to reach the music is also a part of the work. The work itself essentially tells us how it should be, and sometimes it ends up being an exclusive release. For that particular work it is then inevitable. That is the outcome that the work desires.
Selina: Boris has rarely shied away from the press. Why do you think Boris has the reputation of being mysterious?
Atsuo: That’s probably because while we basically don’t refuse any interview offers, we don’t really answer substantial parts of most questions, I suppose? Most interviewers probably approach us as musicians, and they expect a particular answer that a musician might give. We don’t fill those expectations, though; On the contrary, I suppose our way of thinking and approach is closer to that of a visual artist.
For that reason we’re probably hard to figure out when looked at as musicians.
Selina: Previously in a Pitchfork interview, you observed that for Visual Kei bands, “the image of the band members comes first and the music is second”. While Visual Kei relies on physical appearance to define an image, Boris has a thirty year international legacy to define its reputation. How does this reputation interact with how you want to be currently perceived?
Atsuo: We feel that the visual side exists to add a degree of freedom to the image of the music. We have no desires about “how we want to be perceived.”
The music gives a certain visual image, and the members also wear that image for the music. People have many more chances to encounter visuals first, more than music itself. That is why we think the visual side is extremely important. Time is needed for music recognition, whereas a visual image seeps into one’s consciousness instantaneously.