［Description］

Embark on a journey into the serene realms of acoustic sound with MIZUTANI / Les Rallizes Dénudés, now available on cassette tape! 

Note: 
Please note that this product is available for purchase only to customers residing in Japan and the Asia region. please read the description on the right side of this page.


This significant release, bearing the name of the band's leader, Mizutani Takashi, offers an introspective exploration into the personal essence of the Les Rallizes Dénudés core. Recorded in Kyoto in 1970, this release, crafted by Mizutani and Kubota Makoto, consists solely of unique recordings, making it a standout in the history of Les Rallizes Dénudés.


MIZUTANI Liner Notes

MIZUTANI is one of three Les Rallizes Dénudés (aka Hadaka No Rallizes) titles released in 1991 on the Rivista label. Takashi Mizutani himself oversaw the track selection and mastering for the discs, the only official albums released under the Rallizes name during the band’s lifetime. Each title was pressed in limited quantities (1000 units of ‘77 Live and 500 each of ‘67-’69 Studio et Live and Mizutani / Les Rallizes Dénudés), and practically disappeared as soon as they hit the shelves. As a result, their value in the used market skyrocketed, and pirated copies soon began making their way around the globe. Now, thirty-one years later, the release of these long-awaited reissues, remastered by one-time Rallizes member Makoto Kubota no less, will no doubt be welcome news for all the fans the world over.

In October 2021, it became known that Takashi Mizutani had died in December 2019. The news coincided with the launch of the Rallizes’s first-ever official website (https://www.lesrallizesdenudes-official.com) along with the announcement of the Les Rallizes Dénudés Reissue/Archival Project, to be overseen by The Last One Musique, a new label set up by former members and associates of the band. Posted on the site was the following statement: “We, The Last One Musique, are the only label to hold the legal rights to Les Rallizes Dénudés original recordings. Our purpose is to provide the music of Takashi Mizutani produced with precision and accuracy, with far more alive and striking sound than the bootlegs that have been circulating over twenty years.” 

This past April, The OZ Tapes, a double LP collecting the Rallizes tracks from the various artists compilation OZ DAYS LIVE (1973), plus previously unheard material, was released by the U.S. label, Temporal Drift. In many ways, however, the reissue of these three Rivista titles, as overseen by The Last One Musique, can perhaps be regarded as the true start of the Archival Project.

The original 1991 disc had a press run of just 500 units. It contained songs that veered from the usual Rallizes sound that listeners had become accustomed to, which may explain its relative obscurity even among fans. However, it remains one of the most important works in the Rallizes discography, even when measured against the heap of pirated material. 
At least, that’s how I’ve regarded it ever since the time of its original release. Of course, I believe that the immense pleasure we get from the roaring, feedback-drenched guitar noise, paired with the reverb-soaked vocals echoing from the depths of hell, is something that can only be manifested through the Rallizes’ devil magic. But strictly speaking, the Rallizes do not equal noise. It’s unforgivable to speak of the Rallizes only in terms of noise. Beyond the violent, destructive noise, there exists a cool, sweet lyricism and eroticism—and that, in fact, is where the Rallizes, or rather Takashi Mizutani’s, true essence can be found. It’s a kind of perception that is necessary to grasp the true greatness of the Rallizes/Mizutani, be it their noble cruelty, or the air of desperation that surrounds them. 
That is how I stubbornly see the Rallizes, as someone who has experienced their live shows multiple times since the ‘70s and has listened to massive amounts of recordings, including pirated material.

Anyone who has seen them live would remember this. Mizutani would fail to show up on stage, even way past the scheduled start time. The audience would be kept waiting for two or even three hours. With sparkles reflecting off the mirror ball, and The Modern Jazz Quartet or some other cool jazz quietly playing over the PA, the only thing the audience could do was to wait⁠ patiently. I, for one, didn’t mind that at all. I knew that the moment we found ourselves immersed in this cool, dark, and lonely space, the Rallizes' live experience had already begun. In my mind, that depth of solitude, filled with suspended quietude, was all part of the true essence of Rallizes/Mizutani. And I don’t think Mizutani got on stage late out of selfishness or on a whim, either. It is my belief that the interminable wait and uncertainty were presented to us as a sweet prelude to, and thus inextricably linked to, the roar of noise to come. 

Makoto Kubota told me that Mizutani, according to those close to him, was known to listen to Jean-Pierre Sabar’s instrumental version of Serge Gaisbourg’s “Je T'aime Moi Non Plus,” taken from the Gainsbourg-directed film of the same name, at full blast when he was at home. It could be said that the agony and ecstasy expressed by that instrumental version are the personifications of Gainsbourg himself, who constantly drifted between life, light, and darkness, between living and the dead. Again, therein lies part of Mizutani’s true essence—a clear distillation of which can be found on this album.

“I’m tired. I want to do quiet music. Can you help me out?” It was in the fall of 1969 when Mizutani is said to have posed that question to Makoto Kubota, as they chanced upon each other on the Doshisha University campus. As student protests blew through universities across Japan between 1968-69, members of Hadaka No Rallizes (formed in November 1967) were embroiled in the midst of it. Mizutani supposedly aligned himself with the kuro-heru (black helmet, i.e. anarchists), though I remain skeptical that he had any interest in the student protests.

 It was October 18, 1969, following a Rallizes concert dubbed “免罪符としてのリサイタル No.2” ( “Recital for a Pardon, No. 2”) at the Education & Culture Center of Kyoto, when Mizutani ran into Kubota, his old colleague from Doshisha’s Light Music Club. This was the last-ever show by the first iteration of the Rallizes, and in the audience was Kubota, who happened to be there for his first-ever loud rock experience.
Kubota had been into jazz and R&B, and bossa nova was among the styles he played with the Light Music Club. He was also a home recording enthusiast. He owned two open reel tape decks, using both to experiment with ping-pong recording techniques. Starting around December of that year, Kubota and Mizutani met regularly at the latter’s apartment, plucking away at their guitars and beginning to write songs together. “Let’s make a demo tape,” they soon decided and headed into the broadcast studio inside Doshisha University’s student center. The result is what you hear on tracks 1-5 on this album, recorded over a single evening in February 1970.

The studio was equipped with two monaural tape recorders, a simple mixing board, and a microphone. Thanks to his self-taught skills in ping-pong recording techniques, Kubota knew his way around the equipment, and the recording went smoothly. The basic track, which included the vocals, was recorded first in one take. The tape was then played back on one machine, while the second machine was used for dubbing additional instruments. Mizutani sang and accompanied himself with a Yamaha semi-acoustic, while Kubota played a Martin knock-off, outfitted with a sound hole pickup borrowed from Mizutani. 
Generally, Mizutani played rhythm guitar and Kubota played lead, but on songs such as “Morning Light, L’Aube” (track 2), where there’s only one guitar, Kubota was the sole guitarist. At the time Kubota was heavily inspired by the new crop of American folk singer-songwriters and guitarists (i.e. Richie Havens, Tim Hardin, Joni Mitchell), and he cites Bruce Langhorne (the inspiration for Bob Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man”) as having a strong influence on his playing style. 

On percussion was Tadanaka Makino, about whom Kubota recalls, “Mizutani brought him in. He attached some paper or leather on the mouth of a tea jar, and was playing it like a drum.” Perhaps he played a similar role to that of Steve Took during his time with Tyrannosaurus Rex. Makino played the triangle on “Fragment II” (track 4). The glockenspiel on “Morning Light, L’Aube” (track 2) and “Fissure” (track 5) was played by Kubota.

Masanori Konno, credited as the lyricist on “Fragment I” (track 3), was an early member of the Rallizes, according to various sources. But it is believed that he was a friend of the band, not a proper member, and was part of the Doshisha Poetry Society alongside Mizutani. Not much is known about Ikko Tsuka, the lyricist for “Fragment II” (track 4). It is highly probable that it’s the same poet who in 1971 released the poetry collection Dengon: Tsuka Ikko Shi-shū from a publisher named Ansatsu Meirei-Sha (“Assassination Order Company”). Furthermore, it is my theory that Ikko Tsuka may have been Takashi Mizutani himself… (in which case, did he perhaps take the name “Tsuka” from the singer and chanson critic, Kunio Tsukamoto?) The surreal sequence of words, beginning with “aurora is a cigarette smoke…” is very much in line with Mizutani’s worldview, well-versed in French literature and especially the 19th-century symbolist, makes me think so.

The trio of Mizutani, Kubota, and Makino continued to play together after the recording, performing two or three times in 1970. “The Last One_1970” (track 6) is a recording from the first of those shows. 
If Kubota’s memory serves correctly, this was a student-organized concert held at Doshisha University in May 1970 to welcome the new class of students. Others on the bill included Masato Minami and Kenji Endo. Mizutani would appear on Minami’s album Kaikisen the following year in 1971, but this may have been the first meeting between the two. “The Last One_1970” begins with Mizutani on rhythm guitar and vocal and Kubota on lead guitar. Partway through the track, Mizutani stomps on the fuzz box and switches to lead guitar. It’s a style of performance that’s unique to this transitional period of the Rallizes. This particular song would become a staple in their set for years to come. But as the band evolved, the song’s structure and sound were reshaped in such a way that each performance could be considered a different song that just happens to share the same name. 
That is why, for this reissue, “_1970” is tacked on to the song’s title. I would encourage you to listen and compare this version of “The Last One” with the ones that appear on '67-'69 Studio et Live and '77 Live, both reissued as part of this campaign.

The trio version of the Rallizes, with Kubota and Makino, would play again on September 13, 1970, at the Maruyama Park Concert Hall in Kyoto, as part of the “Maruyama Odyssey” event (which included Flower Travellin’ Band and others). Around the same time, Mizutani started playing alongside Chabo and Fujio Yamaguchi, later of Murahachibu, leading to the odd confusion of having two Rallizes—this one and the trio version with Kubota—both on the same bill at this event.
In late September, not long after this event, Kubota took a leave of absence from university and left for America. Upon his return in March 1971, he re-enrolled and joined a new version of the Rallizes (Mikio Nagata on bass, Shunichiro Shoda on drums), which Mizutani had formed in Tokyo in the fall of 1970. Kubota would play bass or side guitar as needed, appearing with the band for “Hadaka No Rallizes 3 Days” in June 1971 at BYG in Shibuya (sharing the bill with a different band each day, including Happy End, Masato Minami, Hiro Tsunoda, and others), “Shoji-ko Rockoon” festival in August, and various gigs throughout 1972-1973 at venues like OZ in Kichijoji. In 1974 Kubota left the Rallizes, as his band Yuuyake Gakudan (Sunset Gang) began taking up most of his time. Kubota’s first solo album Machibouke, released in 1973 right as Yuuyake Gakudan was getting off the ground, includes his version of “Morning Light, L’Aube” (track 2).

“Romance of the Black Pain otherwise Fallin’ Love With” (track 7), included only on the CD edition of this reissue, is a live track recorded at Meiji Gakuin University in 1973. 
This Rallizes lineup consisted of Mizutani, Mikio Nagata, Shunichiro Shoda, and early member Takeshi Nakamura (aka photographer Kyo Nakamura), who had returned to the band in 1972. The song’s intro, with guitars slowly carving out a steady rhythm, would continue to evolve and eventually be absorbed into “The Last One”. The band at this stage was already inching closer to the true sound of Hadaka No Rallizes that the fans now know and expect.

Incidentally, the only member besides Mizutani who appears on each of the three Rivista titles (plus OZ Days Live) is Nakamura. He is an important figure in the origin story of the Rallizes, as it was Nakamura who first approached Mizutani when they were both members of the Light Music Club. Though Nakamura had left the Rallizes in 1969 to pursue his passion for photography, he maintained a close relationship with the band in the years before his return in 1972, sometimes even taking band photos at their live shows. 

In October 2021, I made the trek to Kyoto for Nakamura’s latest photo exhibition. Despite most of the works being unrelated to the Rallizes, the world in which they inhabited was unmistakably that of the Rallizes. Mizutani’s true essence, as described earlier in this text, also seemed to have been embodied within these works.
 I still vividly remember what Nakamura said to me then: “It’s all something that soaks through my body. Even if the means of expression change, I always have the same conscience. It’s something I’ve kept dragging along since my Rallizes days. Everything started with my meeting with Mizutani. His personal magnetism was undeniable, of course, but through him, I think we all felt something beyond that, which we were able to channel into our own personal forms of expression.”

Nakamura would once again leave the Rallizes in late 1977. The band would rotate through several musicians in the years that followed. In all likelihood, Nakamura’s words would have rang true for each and every member of the band. Takashi Mizutani was an angel and a devil, all at once.

Shinya Matsuyama
July 28, 2022

Translated by Yosuke Kitazawa