Dec. 2, 1409: Frederick I, Elector of Saxony and his brother William found Leipzig University, which is the second oldest university in the world.
Dec. 2, 1697: St. Paul’s Cathedral in London is consecrated.
Dec. 2, 1804: Napoleon Bonaparte, in an act of self-coronation, becomes Napoleon I.
Dec. 2, 1859: Georges Seurat, French painter, is born.
Dec. 2, 1939: LaGuardia Airport in New York City opens.
Dec. 2, 1954: The U.S. Senate censures Joseph McCarthy for his conduct as a senator.
Dec. 2, 1976: Fidel Castro becomes the fifteenth President of Cuba.
Dec. 2, 1985: Philip Larkin, English poet, dies.
Dec. 2, 1999: the pillows release Happy Bivouac.
To most American listeners, the pillows will always be “the ‘FLCL’ band.” And there are worse reputations in the world. I’m also guessing that, outside a half-decade pocket of kids who stayed up after midnight in middle school to watch episodes of “FLCL” on Adult Swim, most people don’t know or care about either the show or the band. Which is too bad.
Although they haven’t taken the U.S. by storm, the pillows remain one of Japan’s most popular rock bands. Since the early 1990s, they’ve been churning out release after release of distortion heavy, pop bopping goodness, with some detours into smooth jazz of all things.
Perhaps their finest achievement to date is a trio of albums—released between 1998 and 1999—which constitute, unofficially, “The ‘FLCL’ Trilogy,” since songs from all three were used in the show. These are Little Busters, Runners High and Happy Bivouac.
Happy Bivouac, for my money, is the pillows’ best album. Not just because more than half the album—seven tracks out of 11—are featured in the show, but because, even outside the prism of “FLCL,” which was (more or less) a formative experience of mine, this album rocks. It is a killer, an ace in the hole. It’s nearly perfect.
Right from the get-go, Happy Bivouac grabs you with the lolling intensity of the first (and titular) track. Then you’re taken through a straight rush (“Rush” is the name of the second song, by the way) of rocking pop and poppy rock that is anything but a strait to harrow yourself through. You’ll be rocked sideways, much like the laughing man who adorns the cover.
I said earlier that Happy Bivouac is nearly perfect, and I should clarify. Out of 11 songs, only one has elements of clunkiness—track five, “Our Love and Peace,” which is by no means a bad song, but nestled in such a heap of coruscating jewels, it sticks out like a rock.
Another interesting tidbit about Happy Bivouac is the references it makes to American band Pixies, one of the pillows’ main influences. One track is called “Kim Deal,” a reference to Pixies’ long term bassist of the same name, but (besides songs like “Carnival,” that use the same soft-loud dynamics Frank Black and co. popularized in alternative rock) anotherreference comes on “Back Seat Dog,” which has the pillows startsinging the chorus to “Here Comes Your Man” when the track begins fading.
I came to know the pillows by way of “FLCL,” which understandably colors my understanding and appreciation of them. I would like to think I would have taken the effort to seek them out otherwise (even though getting the album from Amazon via import is a costly pain).
Nonetheless, Happy Bivouac is a delight regardless of what context you appreciate it in, and is an alt rock gem worthwhile no matter how you go about getting it.
Other albums released this day: Aisubeki Mirai e by Exile (2009), Green Man by Mark Owen (1996), Cruisin’ with Ruben & The Jets by Frank Zappa (1968)
You think these pillows are actually empty? Tell Sean at sreichard@wisc.edu.
