I’ve been pretty vocal about my love of Japanese hardcore before, but that’s never been the whole story. PAINTBOX was a Tokyo hardcore band consisting of Mune on vocals, Suguru on Drums, Chelsea on guitars, and a revolving door of bassists that lasted from 1998 to 2009. They put out three full-length LPs in that time, with the last album, Trip, Trance, & Traveling taking nearly ten years to put out in its own right. This album and band changed my life as a young music goblin in 2009, and I genuinely don’t think I’d be who I am without them.

Early Years

We have to start at the beginning, though, because understanding the way PAINTBOX evolved as a band is crucial to understanding their final album.

This 1998 two-song EP, loosely translated as “Flame” b/w “Desert,” showcases two vital aspects of the band’s acumen: speed and aggression. In eight minutes we are introduced to Mune’s mean growl and Chelsea’s chaotic-yet-still-precise guitar riffs and solos. Most importantly, we get a sense of just how fast of a drummer Suguru is, with his fills verging on speed metal territory on “Flame” (side A). To this day this song fills me with so much energy that it’s hard not to bounce around my room while I listen to it. “Desert” is packed with a kind of swagger that, again, I’d expect from a hair metal band from a generation prior.

Part of PAINTBOX‘s lore is that its members, chiefly Chelsea, were participants in the so-called “Burning Spirits” movement of hardcore in the mid-to-late 1980s through the 90s. Chelsea was the guitarist in several other bands, including POISON ARTS and DEATH SIDE, through the 1980s and 90s, and when you listen to Wasted Dream and Bet on the Possibility you can hear the same sound as on this EP. But you’d be mistaken if you thought that was going to be where this band remained.

“The Door” b/w “Painted Railroad” starts with fucking trumpets, played by Tomonori Shiraishi. Like, I almost expected “The Door” to be a ska song, but after about 30 seconds of maybe the most triumphant trumpet solo I’ve heard in a song in a hot minute, that trademark speed and aggression returns. And it hangs out for nearly four minutes. Bass on this EP is handled by Nakasu and while it hangs back in the mix it still peeks through now and again to remind you that every fucking member of this band is firing on all cylinders here. Meanwhile Chelsea is just soloing to death in between Mune’s gruff screams. It’s genuinely incredible.

And if that wasn’t e-fucking-nough, “Painted Railroad” adds harmonicas to the mix, played by Yasu (who will come back for Travelling). This is merely portents of musical flourishes to come, though, as different percussion and chordophone instruments make their appearance on the mix, and we get a taste of where PAINTBOX wants to take things. I could see this song being a JoJo background song or something.

1999’s Singing, Shouting, Crying is their next album, a full-length LP clocking in at just under 40 minutes for 15 songs, front to back. It kicks off with a (relatively) mid-tempo banger in “Oneside Surprised,” which is followed up by the swaggery-as-fuck “Koku,” the almost-atypical straightahead hardcore track “Sarubattle,” and “Can’t Bear Any More!,” which features a blink-and-you’ll-miss it drive-by facemelter of a guitar solo.

The second half of Side A starts with another song that hints at PAINTBOX‘s aspirations toward melodiousness while still never compromising on speed or power in the title track, “Singing, Shouting, Crying.” Inexplicably, “The Incurable World” takes a turn towards Rockabilly, but we’re not really hear to question these choices; they were made, and we simply have to make sense of the world those choices built. In that same vein, we shouldn’t be surprised that the next song, “Cry Baby,” starts as a fuzzed-out alternative rock song before returning to hardcore, or that the final song on side A, “Instant Make Your Dream,” slows things way down. After all, it would be impossible for the band to maintain that breakneck pace the whole way through, right?

Lmao you thought.

Side B erupts into your eardrums with “Impulse,” an onslaught as fast as anything on Side A. It’s clear that we’re in “winners never quit” territory, and if anyone’s going to lose energy on this thing, it’s not going to be the band. “Running in Step” is fast and angry through and through, “The Clouds Go” starts with a sludge segment before returning to the hardcore mold, “Brimful Feeling” feels like a pogo-punk song with its gang vocals and bouncy rhythm, and “The World in a Looking Glass” introduces a fucking keyboard to add to its attendant epic sound. The penultimate track, “Webs of Lies,” reminds me of RANCID a little bit, though this is not to say its hard edge has been blunted.

This barnstormer of a debut album is closed out with “Time to Come,” a song that manages to feel wistful at the same time that it’s going a million goddamn miles an hour. We get some incredible harmonized solos on this one, followed by one final triumphant scream from Mune.

Before the next major album, we get a flexi record with the songs “Back Reporter” and “A Song for Vermin” on it; only “Back Reporter” continues to live online, and it exists at kind of the baseline for Paintbox. This is a great opportunity for a juicebox break before the next album, Earth Ball Sports Tournament, which came out in 2000.

Trumpets: back. Hardcore sound: fully engaged. Another sub-40 minute rager. Everyone’s firing on all cylinders. The first song,「百糸一繭」(rough trans. “one hundred thread cocoon”), is four minutes of that now-trademark aggression we’ve learned to expect at all times from the band, but it starts with a crust-metal intro that wouldn’t be amiss at an AMEBIX show.「切迫」(rough trans. “urgency”) takes a turn into street punk territory, but lives up to its title as it never once lets up on the gas. Without belaboring the point, that’s also how I’d describe the rest of the first side of this album, up to「大逆」(“high treason”).

The second side of the album does feature some variation, with “Music, Color, and Dream” veering deep into psychedelic rock territory and rarely pushing the tempo past my resting heart rate. While some folks might find this change kind of jarring, especially after the nine straight blistering hardcore tracks that preceded it, I kind of welcome the break. Flutes make an appearance on this song, so that’s fun. That said, the break is only temporary; on the very next song, “Sleepless Going On,” we’re right back at full throttle until the very end of this thing.

This is by no means a “sophomore slump” album, as Mune, Chelsea, Suguru, etc. are frighteningly consistent all the way through. But this might be my least favorite album of the trio, just due to its lack of anything meaningfully different or interesting to grab onto. The album ends on an ominous note, as we transition from beautiful classical guitar to a dread-filled drone that slowly engulfs your speakers before finally cutting out. What contemporary fans of the band wouldn’t have had any concept of is that this would be the last output – save a messy POISON IDEA tribute compilation appearance – where the melodic heart of the band, Chelsea, was alive.

The Posthumous Era/Trip, Trance, & Travelling review

The period between 2000 and 2007, when Hiroyuki Kishida, AKA Chelsea, passed away isn’t especially clear to me, a fan who came to know and love the band exclusively after his death. There are reports that he did drugs and drank heavily, which, like, yeah, sure, I buy it. I don’t want to stereotype punk in any way, but I would be stupid to deny that drugs and alcohol are a big part of the scene in many parts of the world. You can see video on YouTube of PAINTBOX playing shows and Chelsea kind of drunkenly shuffling around onstage. I’ve heard his cause of death was alternately overdose, alcohol poisoning, and heat exhaustion. I still don’t know enough to speculate, and to be honest, I don’t really think it matters. Chelsea’s legacy continues. And he would have one last chance to ride again.

The first two minutes of this hardcore album consist of nothing but Chelsea noodling out a sublime psych-rock solo. It feels like walking into a dream where I’m on a beach, looking out over the horizon as heatwaves lazily obscure the setting sun. By the time we’re jangling out of this intro, I feel ready for anything. Mune has lost none of the gravel in his voice, nor his insistence on shouting every word, but “Fly On The Ship ~ Cry of the Sheeps” is mellow in a way that none of their previous work can be said to be. This is incredibly melodic rock, and it threatens to leave punk behind entirely (to its benefit, IMO). Chelsea’s sublime soloing comes back to lead us into the last minute of the movement, where we’re all singing at the top of our lungs, “Cry of the Sheep!” and it feels like we just won something. I couldn’t tell you what.

“Praying” continues that dreamlike sound, but returns a little bit of that Burning Spirits Hardcore… spirit to the mix, with Mune screaming a very Youth Crew-ish “GO!” to bring us in. This song reminds me the most of something early RANCID would put out, not least because of the incredible winding bass track that just weaves its way through every part of the melody. We get some wonderful harmonized guitar solos yet again, and as I’m listening to this, I realize I’d probably watch a ONE PIECE AMV set to this song.

Next we come to「ヤマアラシ」(Hedgehog), which might be the one true-blue return to early-days PAINTBOX on this album. Just a reminder, a small flex, to let us know who’s on top if we forgot. This is followed by “Mental Picnic,” a song which finally incorporates the chorus of trumpets in a meaningful way. I haven’t talked… at all about the lyrics, because they’re all in Japanese and the English translations are hard to find, but on songs like “Mental Picnic,” the lyrics somehow force you to accept the positivity and “against-all-odds” attitude they’ve got going on.

We’re now on Side B of a two-LP album. This side opens with a song -「雪解け」(Thaw) – that I can’t help but interpret as a bit of a somber track, despite its upbeat chord progression. It feels like Mune is singing about something (or someone) lost, a friendship, maybe a failed romance, hell, who cares? It still makes me want to sing along with a PBR in hand (and I’m straight-edge). This track ends with a music box version of the main melody, and abruptly transitions into「大地救」(Saving the Earth), which opens unexpectedly like a Jack Johnson song? Dude I don’t know. It transitions back and forth between that and what I’d almost describe as fastcore multiple times before dabbling in heavy metal. A land of fucking contrasts.

And look, you can think that’s weird, but the next song is literally just called「音頭」(Ondo/Sound Head)/”Japanese Traditional Dance” and features the band beating on pots and pans with spoons and shit at a party or festival while the bass keeps rhythm. Oh but hey, we’re back in speed/aggression territory with “Big Ant (70Km/h Version).” Side B wraps up with「因果応報」(Retribution), which feels like a very chaotic way to end things.

Okay, so we’re here at the album halfway mark, and we’re just a few tracks away from finishing this exploration of PAINTBOX‘s music. How are we feeling? Personally I’m feeling pretty good. Despite the thrift of my descriptions the one thing I can tell you about my experience with this album as a whole is that the variety is more than enough to keep me listening and interested. I tend to burn out hard when there’s no variation in the music over a long enough stretch of time, and This Particular Album is doing pretty well on that front, especially compared to Earth Ball Sports Tournament.

Now, given everything we’ve listened to over the course of three albums, what would you expect the opening track to LP2 to be like? More hardcore? Maybe a little metal? Maybe some riffage?

Let me ask you a question.

YA LIKE JAZZ?

Look, nothing—nothing—has prepared us for this moment. We’ve heard metal, we’ve heard hardcore, we’ve heard psych-rock and maybe a little bit of prog rock. There is no fucking reason why you should expect to get to the second half of this album and be met with an entire goddamn jazz standard complete with arpeggiated guitar notes, saxophones, and an utterly entrancing vocal performance from singer Mayuko Sakai.「月夜野」(A Field in the Moonlight) includes an incredible transition from jazz back into punk territory around the halfway mark with a reprise on a solo from earlier, and then right back into jazz to let the song settle down and out of earshot on its own. Every piece of musicianship on this song fucking slaps. If I could bottle and sell how this song makes me feel I’d be rich and no longer depressed. Just… seven goddamn minutes of near-perfection.

Sakai makes an appearance on the next track,「ゲンセキ」(Raw Ore), as well, this time only singing the chorus. Her presence suggests some continuity between the song that came before and this one, though, and the song feels like the punk “response” to “Moonlight’s” jazz “call,” so to speak. The gang vocals are as powerful as any Oi! banger that’s ever been recorded, and it’s another song that just leaves me feeling gobsmacked at the beauty of music.

It’s at this point that certain punk purists would pull a red card, throw a flag on the play, and say “look, this is fun, but this isn’t punk. But see, fuckos, that’s where you’re wrong!「脳天バップ」(The Crown Bop) is here to remind you once again that PAINTBOX was formed in the fires of speed and aggression. That said, as if to actively work against me, Side C of this album ends with “Expiry,” an extremely Prog-Ass-Prog song in the style of, IDK, Rush. I’m almost positive there’s a Sitar on this song.

Side D. The final three tracks. “Sing a Crying Song,”「空蝉 – うつせみ」(Utsusemi) and「出発」–Travelling– (Departure –Travelling–) “Sing a Crying Song” establishes our tempo. As my junior-high track and field coach used to scream at me, “it’s the final 100 meters! Sprint!!” It’s also a callback to earlier times, a re-recording of the Singing, Shouting, Crying track. Here it sounds fuller, rowdier, and more likely to be broken up by a particularly fun party. With「空蝉 – うつせみ」(Utsusemi) the guitars return to the dreamlike state they were in and we get a kind of preflight check. Our time has come. The train has arrived in the station. It’s time for us to return home from the beach on「出発」–Travelling– (Departure –Travelling–), with one final, incredible send-off.

The novelty of a joke ending to an album is lost somewhat in the age of streaming music, but after “Departure” and an acoustic postscript we get a few minutes to ourselves. My one regret is that I don’t own this double album on vinyl. I’m missing the hiss and scratch of the needle as it drags along empty surface towards its final skit: a messy quasi-beatdown hardcore song. As above, so below.

Past is Prologue

I first read about Trip, Trance, & Travelling in an issue of MAXIMUMROCKNROLL in September 2009. Here’s what the reviewer Vinnie La Russa said, in part:

The best description may be the term they use in the inside of the beautiful gatefold cover: Hardcore-Psychedelia. It features sixteen songs, a few of which were previously released and redone here, and each one is an epic journey. I listened to it three times over the course of a week and feel that I’ve barely begun to comprehend all that’s happening. You could take each track and listen to it on repeat for a week and maybe begin to understand its mastery.

Another review, by Sketchyjoe at Punknews.org, likened the album to “Yoko Kanno’s hardcore album,” and said, “In the searing beauty of this album, the glorious derangement of the whole endeavour, the way it makes the absurd-sounding mix of psychedelia and punk rock, J-pop and thrash, lounge jazz and metal, prog and hardcore sound like the most natural thing in the world and never get tired or boring over a running time about the same as Buster Keaton’s The General, there exists a testament to the astounding skill and artistry of all involved in making this masterpiece, and to the assimilative powers of all punk rock, and ultimately to just the way that music itself is constantly evolving and constantly surprising and constantly finding strange and madcap new approaches to soundtrack the fractal delirium of the human condition.”

Listening to this album broke some petty gatekeeper inside me. I didn’t care about whether or not something sounded sufficiently punk anymore, as long as it whipped fucking ass doing whatever it was doing. Even now it challenges me to branch out to forms of music I’m not as familiar with. It’s one of maybe two albums in total that has stayed in my rotation for nearly 15 years. Even now, words fall short when it comes to how much this album and band matter to me.

The act of being in punk was a messy and ultimately painful experience for me. A lot of the relationships I fostered in that scene have long been destroyed. Going to shows was difficult for me to do even before COVID; now it’s basically impossible for me to get into that headspace.

But I still hold onto punk, and I think this album is how I’m able to do so. It’s just… it’s so beautiful, and defiant, and joyous, that even with the circumstances surrounding its creation, it does so much to just make me feel better. I’ve been listening to it a lot recently.

If you read this far, thanks for doing so. Hopefully you found something to enjoy here too.