TEKE::TEKE
Hagata
KILL ROCK STARS
It may not be easy to get accustomed to eleki music, a strain of surf rock most closely associated with Japanese guitar master Takeshi Terauchi. While eleki songs usually feature a simple guitar line that’s catchy as a wave, the accompanying pentatonic scales and rhythm guitar in double time add layers of complexity to the material. Hey, just because good music can be simple doesn’t mean it has to be.
Terauchi’s heir apparent, TEKE::TEKE of Montreal, started as a band that exclusively played covers of the legend’s tunes, but molted into songwriters of their own after bringing vocalist Maya Kuroki into the fold. The group’s debut album, 2021’s Shirushi, gained the group a spot on the long list of nominees for Canada’s prestigious Polaris Music Prize. That album’s follow-up, Hagata, so boldly redefines a sound they already redefined that Polaris might as well give TEKE::TEKE the 2023 award right now.
Shirushi was an eclectic, fun record that carved out its own cubby hole in the record store by melding eleki with psych-rock, as well as some occasional shoegaze. But at least compared to Hagata, it was reticent. Principally, Kuroki often took a back seat on Shirushi—and when she did chime in, it was often with singing or whispering. On Hagata, Kuroki belts out high-octave notes and screams in her native Japanese—which is representative of the entire seven-member group breaking free. They collectively act like a kid in a music store, reaching for wind instruments, horns—anything that can make a sound, really.
Muted as it was at times, Shirushi knew how to have fun. But there’s a difference between having fun while under a chaperone’s watch and having fun when they’re looking the other way. Hagata is mischievous, unrestrained, and daring. In other words, even more fun. At various turns, the record dips into Japanese folk (with fee-fi-fo-fum chants and Kuroki singing vibrato, as heard on opener “Garakuta”), chillwave-ish electronic minimalism (“Onaji Heya”), and soundtrack music to fictional California beach sitcoms and Connery-era Bond movies (“Setagaya Koya” and “Yurei Zanmai”).
TEKE::TEKE proved during a few shows they played in the US earlier this year that their music is best experienced live, with psychedelic soap-bubble visual effects draping the performers. Still, in concert there’s foreshadowing whenever a musician reaches for an instrument. On record, it’s a mystery what sound they’ll create next, and which member will be responsible for it. In a multiverse-obsessed culture in which ludicrous left-field mash-ups are not just encouraged but almost required, there might be no album that captures the power of crossover music, no album better-suited for the times we’re in, than Hagata.
