Japanese artist and producer Taigen Kawabe is best known as the frontman and bass guitarist of boundary‑destroying psych‑rock band Bo Ningen, whose repertoire ranges from experimental soundscapes with hushed spoken word in English, to guitar‑driven chaos and screaming in Japanese. Kawabe has numerous other strings to his bow, not least his solo project Ill Japonia — a rap project which flirts with lo‑fi hip‑hop and trap music — and Mainliner, his project with Makoto Kawabata of vaunted psych band Acid Mothers Temple.
At the moment I can’t stop listening to
So, it’s actually AI‑generated music. There’s a site called Suno.AI, which I started subscribing to last month. But I think you can still generate maybe five or six songs per day for free. How it works is that you type the lyrics — I mean, it can generate the lyrics as well, but me and my producer friend Foodman prefer to put in our own lyrics. Then you choose the genre, but you can mix any genres, or you can make up the genre as well! Foodman has made great AI music: for example, for the style he just put, like, “vinyl jazz”. And it came out with some sort of weird, retro ’70s Japanese music, or something.
It can be really catchy, and sometimes really unpredictable as well. You can ask it to make a structure, but I prefer to just let it do it! So it’ll be more surprising. There can be weird lyrical timings. Sometimes, if I type in Japanese it’ll translate it into some unknown language. It makes great errors. I mean, maybe after a couple of years they’ll stop making errors.
It’s interesting, from a musician’s point of view. Creators are a little bit scared, wondering if our work is going to be taken over by AI In the way that’s happened to the illustration world. But for us, we know the struggle of making music. How hard it is to get that bit of yourself into the sound of what you’re making. AI‑generated music is almost like summoning the dead! Like summoning a devil — or an angel…
Taigen Kawabe: AI‑generated music is almost like summoning the dead! Like summoning a devil — or an angel…
The project I’m most proud of
Maybe the latest one: the remix I made as Ill Japonia for my friend’s band, Black Delta Movement. And it’s kind of connected to how I started making music. I’ve never been good at making the concept, deciding when to release, blah, blah, blah. So a remix is great because it draws that line. And it’s got a new source, new layers, which I probably could not produce by myself. So it’s always kind of like finding a new voice. With each remix I put some challenge in place, depending on who I collaborate with. I wanted to put in some more psy‑trance elements in the second part of this remix, which I’ve never tried to make before. In the last couple of years I’ve been to raves where I’ve experienced trance and psy‑trance in a totally different way. I was in Japan for like nine months over Covid, and there were these secret parties. So those experiences have definitely made it into the sound! I think it shows the latest me, as both a musician and as a producer.
The first thing I look for in a studio
That’s a good question! I think the first thing I look at, but also the first thing I’ll ask about if I don’t know what it is, is the monitor system. The speakers and the amplifier. Because it is like an instrument. And whether I’m working as a producer or in a band, I want to know the character of the studio. The microphone and everything is the input source. That’s what we’re going to be feeding into the desk. But the speakers are the output source, and I’m curious about that as a musician, but also as a listener. It’s about the character: of the speakers, and of the room.
The person I would consider my mentor
That’s a really difficult one. Maybe I’ll say my friend, the producer Foodman. I really respect him as a musician. But also, he’s one my best mates. We met, maybe 10 years ago. He makes experimental dance music, and we’ve been making music together as well. I mean, 70 or 80 percent of our talk is, like, ridiculous. But we’re always exchanging great music when we find it, and also great interviews we find on on the Internet, to keep us excited. We talk about how difficult it can be to survive as a musician. We encourage each other.
This kind of links back to what I was saying about AI music. From talking with him, from making music together, I’ve learned how important it is to find that human error in the music. Obviously we can make glitches with a pedal, or with a plug‑in or with Max MSP — some kind of programmed glitch — and I’m super into that. But after I met Foodman… I feel like he experiments with things like how his body or his brain can change his output. And that’s always been my interest, when it comes to making music or even just as a human being. How to make errors, how not to predict what’s going to happen. As a musician, as an improviser, as a human, I think I learned that from him. How to enjoy error.
My go‑to reference track or album
I think everyone’s probably got one reference track that they change, like, every couple of years. For me, the bass frequency is pretty important. And even in my room it is a little bit hard to know how it’s performing. So I always check next to a track called ‘Between Here & Yesterday’ by a techno house artist called Sigha. That track, the bass on it, even on some larger speakers, you cannot hear that sub. So it’s actually kind of a good reference to see if the sub is too much! Or to see if you don’t hear the sub, you know, maybe you won’t hear like under 30Hz, or whatever. Obviously it’s got hi‑hats and all the high frequencies too, so you can also check those for reference. But it’s the bass frequency that I like to check by it.
My top tip for a successful session
I remember reading something by Rick Rubin about the importance of feeding good food to the artists he’s producing. And I do agree with that! I think the most important thing in the studio is to make everyone feel comfortable, but at the same time, to feel like they can push themselves a little bit. As humans, we need to feel comfortable in the studio. We cannot get nervous. But as a musician, I think we should find some kind of uncomfortable zone. Where you can be challenged — as a singer, for example, or as a guitarist.
I think if it’s a ‘proper studio’, then it’s about finding your comfort zone as a human but finding a challenging, uncomfortable zone as a musician. Make some kind of list of challenges: what you haven’t done, what you want to try out. And if it’s a band, you can make little lists for each other, maybe! But it can’t be, you know, “We cannot have any arguments!”
The studio session I wish I’d witnessed
I wonder, maybe one of Steve Reich’s recordings? Maybe Clapping Music, or in fact Music For 18 Musicians, which is my favourite music by Steve Reich. I have no clue about how people record, like, orchestras. Or maybe Brian Eno’s Music For Airports, that kind of thing. I could make you a list of 20 or 30 producers. Oh, actually: King Crimson. In The Court Of The Crimson King. Particularly the song ‘21st Century Schizoid Man’. That song was a huge shock for me when I heard it at maybe 16 or 17, a couple of years after I started to play the bass. My friend who was into the Beatles and into jazz showed me King Crimson in pitch black in his room, with the Windows Media Player visualiser going, if you remember that! As an experience for a teenager playing the bass, that song, those recordings… it was just really unique and amazing. I was shocked. I had never heard that kind of prog music before. I think our Japanese version got a couple of bonus tracks, maybe. And it had liner notes — sort of a biography, and also someone explaining the history and the story of the album. One CD I borrowed from my friend had liner notes about Robert Fripp, who was really inspired by Brian Eno and Steve Reich. And that’s how I started to listen to Brian Eno and Steve Reich. That opened my mind.
The producer I’d most like to work with
I think I’m going to say Laraaji. He is quite old now — he’s 81 years old. I listened to some spiritual New Age music while I was half asleep, and then Spotify played one of his tracks. And I was almost hypnotised, because I was half asleep. I do have sleeping paralysis quite often. I had it a bit more when I was younger. But anyway, that music almost hypnotised me. I was like, “Wow, who is this artist?” Then I found out it was Laraaji. It was music he had made when he was 20 or 30. It was so natural, and pure. I think if I wanted to collaborate with someone, to be in a studio with someone — even though I said it’s important to give yourself challenges — I’d get too nervous if it was with Steve Reich or Brian Eno, or Robert Fripp. But Laraaji… He’s a living legend, but one who I wouldn’t get too nervous to make music with!
The part of music creation I enjoy the most
I think I have two moments that I enjoy the most. The first is when I feel, “This is going to be something.” I always try to experiment, to make something from scratch rather than try to recompose from what I remember, or what’s being played in my mind. It could be just a one sound. Or it could be after 70 percent of the production is built. Because you know, sometimes you’re just not sure! I love the moment when the music or the sound is going beyond my expectation, becoming something I can fully enjoy. Because, well, my attention span is really short. I easily get bored of what I listen to, but also of what I’m making as well! Yeah, so when I find something great, something more than I expected, it’s great pleasure, it’s some kind of hope.
The other moment is like when I’m rendering the file, there can just be that magic moment, where you love your own song. It’s like giving birth or something. Sometimes you struggle to even make one minute of music. Yeah, so those two moments: the moment when you feel something, then the moment when it’s complete!
The advice I’d give myself of 10 years ago
Well, I still do keep telling myself I should learn music theory! And more production techniques! But I’d say: don’t worry too much. Don’t get too nervous.