Walking Cloud and Deep Red Sky, Flag Fluttered and the Sun Shined by Tokyo's Mono

The very first time that I heard a single note from the band Mono, was live at the Bottom of the Hill.  To say that I was unprepared would probably be an incredible understatement.   Here's and analogy: say that you were fed nothing but onions from the time that you were born, until the time that you were ten, and then one day, somebody gave you ice cream. Mono is that very first bite of ice cream.  

Mono plays music that is as intensely, cathartically beautiful, as it is alien and strange. The band, hailing from Japan, consists of two guitars, bass, and drums.  They are seriously the loudest band since Motorhead. But while Motorhead would simply make me grit my teeth and bang my head, Mono actually made me cry.  I was so impressed and overwhelmed by their music that tears actually streamed down my face.

Their 2004 album Walking Cloud and Deep Red Sky is an epic and tender masterpiece. Like the soundtrack to a lost David Lynch or Jim Jarmusch movie.  Unlike their live show, the album also features piano and several stringed instruments, which makes the quieter, more melancholy moments very reminiscent of Montreal bands such as Silver Mt. Zion and The Bell Orchestra. The juxtaposition of these tender moments with heavier rock crescendos can make Mono almost unbearably intense at times.  

The loud guitars in the song "Halcyon (beautiful days)" hit you like a ton of bricks, yet the song seems to ease the shock by retaining many of the same melodic elements of the song. This almost symphonic intensity ranks them closer to Mozart then to Sepultura, and enables them to be enjoyed by jaded hipsters and staunch metal snobs alike. 

They convey more in their music then many songwriters are able to get across in their lyrics. I would liken them to the Chicago band Pelican, but where Pelican is rooted in sludge and doom, Mono derives much of their approach from bands like Mogwai and Godspeed You Black Emperor, even Explosions in the Sky.