dir en details

So my friend sent me the raw pics she shot from the Euro tour. And look. Kyo has sparkly grillz on his canines.

No, I haven't gone mad. I mean, not any madder than Dir en Grey are already mad.

I saw someone reblog this gem of a Dir en Detail, and I had to write something about it.

TWO MONSTROUS NUCLEAR STOCKPILES - 清水寺, 2000

So, according to the legend, at some point during the year 2000, Kyo and Kaoru got together, ate two space cakes each and made an electrovomit nightmare of a song.

Two Monstrous Nuclear Stockpiles is the name of their two-men act, and the only title they ever released is called Kiyomizudera (Pure Water Monastery, a temple located in Eastern Kyoto). I was unable to figure out if the title has anything to do with the content of the song.

Interestingly enough, Two Monstrous Nuclear Stockpiles is the name of a song by English punk band Discharge, released in 1981 on their EP Never Again.

It's a song about the Cold War, and the lyrics read only,

Should east and west be ever divided Resigned to living, living in fear

The two monstrous nuclear stockpiles in Discharge's version are East and West, presumably the USSR and the US. In Kyo and Kaoru's version, the monstrous nuclear stockpiles are... them both?

Kyo and Kaoru's version also appears to have something to do with war, if the voice insert of US President Nixon (?) mentioning the need for Americans to access the magnitude of the war is any indication.

But hey, so far this is a PG story. Enter Kyo. The following year he released his first poetry book, 自虐、斂葬腐乱シネマ (A cinema of masochism, burials and decomposition).

Sold with his first poem book was a CD called 第三帝國楽団 (Third Reich Orchestra). This CD included four songs, including a remake of Kiyomizudera, retitled Skaportrono / Kiyomizudera Porn Type.

Skaportrono doesn't mean anything, so it's likely a deliberate misspelling of "sc*t p*rn", used to try and soften the blow label-wise.

Besides the obvious shock value title, the lyrics are nothing your garden-variety softcore punk fan cannot handle:

Black cats* tied up in the shower and porn showers inside their canned food Long lines waiting for Nikkatsu** p0rn B-grade erotica and narcissism

Dictatorships are on an insane rise Dictatorships and insane risings SM porn is rising like crazy SM porn and insane risings

Scream machines*** and retro showers Screaming open flowers**** and erotic showers Screaming horror and pleasure in the shower Screaming anime and hypnosis in the shower

* "Black cat" can be slang for female privates in Japanese **Nikkatsu is a Japanese film production company known for creating poor quality p0rn and BDSM content in the 1970s and 1980s. Watching Nikkatsu films would have been the ultimate transgression for teens of Dir en Grey's generation. ***"Scream machines" likely refers to Japanese adult actresses and their high-pitched sound effects during explicit scenes. ***** "open flowers" here are slang for female private parts.

In the window cherry blossoms flutter, as they do

Slowly, gently swaying, swaying, swaying.

As my awareness and the sky began to dim,

tears fell on a hand holding mine so, so tight.

- who did that hand belong to?

Those endlessly crying eyes were trying to tell me something

with their familiar perfume, swept away by the spring breeze,

- yet one more precious thing I was to lose.

One more thing that no one will ever find, a flower…

— a white hospital room —

Tomorrow I wish to turn to ash, to sand, and sleep under that very cherry tree

- no, please, may this not be my last wish.

Each and every gently swaying petal is a teardrop

in the night, fluttering, then quickly dropping.

Kyo, in 前略、お元気ですか、最果ての地より名も無き君にあいをこめて..., 2004

--

My analysis This poem is the first of a series of three poems titled "Room 304". I believe room 304 might be a hospital room. This short poem series appears to be about three different people suffering/dying the same hospital room a short time apart (the two following poems will cement this idea). I read this first poem as the final thoughts of a dying person. Their awareness is dimming and they are no longer able to recognise their surroundings - they don’t seem to able to tell whose hand is holding theirs and who is crying next to them, or whose perfume it is that they can smell. The final verses are haunting because they imply that everything their life is will soon be scattered like petals (Kyo likes using this image a lot - e.g. The Final) and lost like cherry blossom petals at the end of the season.

"Dear Reader"

Welcome to the land of peace and lull,

and tonight

sleep in the arms of melancholy.

Kyo, in 前略、お元気ですか、最果ての地より名も無き君にあいをこめて..., 2004

---

My analysis

If this poem has any link to the previous one, this likely to be another bite at modern-day Japan. Japan takes pride in its Buddhist undertones (land of peace and lull). However, he contrasts that with a feeling of melancholy that takes over people at night.

Translator’s disclaimer

...and Twitter knows what that would look like.

Have you ever woken up with the urge to translate and comment on Kyo’s poems from back in the early 2000s as if your life depends on it?

Well, I have, because I’m a weirdo.  So for the sake of this series, take it or leave it; here is my translation and commentary on 前略、お元気ですか、最果ての地より名も無き君に愛をこめて… (Without further ado, how are you? I keep on wondering, lovingly crying out this question to all of you from the farthest lands.), Kyo’s second poem book, released in 2004.

Poem I: [Untitled]

Without further ado, how are you?

Without further ado, how are you? I keep on wondering, lovingly crying out this question to all of you from the farthest lands.

Like children dreaming; struggling to swim through submerged alleys

with your beloved red shoes stored neatly in your balconies. *

Inside your fish bowls, the night is warm and young women ask for ice water, laughing,

while beyond our borders mothers hold their children every day

and throw their love into seas of flames.

Flowers adorn the side of the road and yet you turn away

and even if Ed Gein were to make a mask of your face, it would bear a smile**

and you’d still be feeding on this lovely world you adore,

Hating the rest of them more than you love yourself

Hating the rest of them more than you love yourself

Hating the rest of them more than you love yourself.***

Their subliminal words, deeds and doctrine are an effective Hail Mary

As the sky and earth turn to ash in 194586815****

Oh go admire those pouring mud tears

of my nameless brethren and their tears thou shalt nor forget, never…

There lies that flickering great power of the modern-day,

oh pray to God it doesn’t disintegrate

oh thee playable yellow monkeys,

thee tame yellow monkeys,*****

why don’t you inject that so-called HIV up your asses?******

- it’d be just sex, not rape, so cry me a river

just like in a soap opera

oh, cut the crap.

Rusty water cups

reverently carried by girls with bob cuts

that I stare at with my pitch black eyes and who surely don’t feel a thing

- ah, where has our innocence gone?

Only creeping, crawling maggots

that won’t deign to say hello.

To them, I shall not say a word, just trample them beneath my feet.

* Red shoes in the balcony In traditional housing in Japan, shoes are stored in the “genkan”, i.e. the entryway area of the house. During summer, shoes may be stored in the balcony to avoid bad smells. The author mentions that these shoes are red, which is quite specific. I believe he might be referring to a very popular 1948 post-war film, The Red Shoes. The Red Shoes is a complex interplay between art, love and ambition. The red shoes themselves symbolise the irresistible allure of artistic ambition and the relentless drive for perfection. They represent the protagonist's desire to excel in her art form, even at the cost of her life. The film serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of becoming consumed by one's passions to the point of losing touch with reality. 

** Ed Gein Edward Gein was an American serial killer. He made various objects from the skin of his victims and bodies he dug up from cemeteries, including human skin face masks.

*** Hating others more than you love yourself This is a reference to a Buddhist concept according to which hating anyone or anything is a reflection of one’s self-hatred. In Buddhist philosophy, one should love others as much as one loves oneself (even horrible people). One should accept dissenting opinions just like one accepts parts of oneself that aren’t perfect or necessarily good. This is a very quick and simplified explanation of Buddhist compassion, but you get the picture.

**** 194586815 This series of numbers is a date and time: 6 August 1945, 8:15 am. This is the exact time the Hiroshima atom bomb was dropped by the United States.

***** Yellow monkeys Yellow Monkey is a WWII-era slur for Japanese people, akin to “Japs”. The author is referring to Japanese people being tame, gullible and accepting of their government.

******* HIV up the ass I didn’t make this sound any more vulgar than it is in the original text - the author used very strong language for this one.

---

My analysis of this poem: I read this as a political statement. The narrator is unreliable. In the first few lines, he appears to address his own people (the Japanese) with tender words ("how are you? I keep on wondering, lovingly crying out..."). He paints a picture of comfort and picturesque happiness ("inside your fish bowls", “red shoes stored neatly in the balcony”).

In the second half of the second stanza, the poem takes a turn, and he begins to contrast Japanese comfort with the horrors going on in the world that his people are oblivious to.

He criticises the reader for not reacting to such horrors, comparing their indifference to a cruel mask of disinterest and self-absorption. He claims that "their words" (presumably the government's?) distract from reality, as it happened during WWII prior to the atom bombings.

More notably, he appears to criticise Japan’s fragile political system, implying that it relies on the indifference and acceptance of “tame” Japanese people.

He describes a mass of people who all look and act the same (“girls with bob cuts”, a popular hair style in Japan) and how they do not appear to react to his (presumably political) appeal (“my pitch black eyes”). He thus despises them, as evident in the crude final lines. 

Translator disclaimer

So. I like The Devil in Me. I like it better than I liked anything in Phalaris or The Insulated World. I think it's the best piece they've put out since Arche.

And to those who complain about the new artistic direction, here's a meme I didn't make:

And while we're on this topic, Dir en Grey was never, ever, not even once, meant to be a grey silver coin. Grey silver coins don't breed new coins and aren't worth much in themselves.

Dir en Grey is a name they came up with based on a 1995 song by Lareine:

It starts with the words "灰色のあなたに", which means "to you in gray". The second line is a repetition of the first but in a world salad of three different languages:

Dir, which is the German dative case for 'you', which as a standalone can be translated as "to you".

En, which is a French preposition translatable as "in"

and "gray", which is the US English spelling of the colour grey.

So yes, Dir en Grey means "to you, in grey". I'm pretty certain that any instances of the band saying they initially thought it meant "grey silver coin" are just them trolling their audience. They knew exactly what it meant because Lareine spelled it in good old Japanese front and centre.

ANYWAY. Why am I ranting about this?

Because "to you in grey" means that this band has something that they want to give their audience. And they don't want to give it to us in black or white. They want to give it to us in grey. Grey is the desaturated version of literally any colour, in line with Dir en Grey's intention of toying with literally any style.

And that's what they're doing with the Devil in Me. The bass kicks ass. The whole thing is dense. It sounds like a very tightly wound coil. The layered vocals sound like ten thousand possessed Kyos being exorcised simultaneously barking Kyos dumping all their trauma in their weekly therapy appointments.

Mixing is okay, and better than in Phalaris. I have no clue why Dir en Grey keep choosing to work with shitty mixers that make their songs sound muffled and muddled but hey. Maybe the good mixing budget went on Gucci.

Bottom line:

Great effing song

Dir en Grey is still unpredictable, confusing, and now also somewhat pink

...which is great!

Kyo is firing on all cylinders in three bands and still manages to have the devil in him - kudos.

More kudos to Toshiya, his bass is the thread that holds this song together.