Melt Banana at Europa

Hell hath no fury equal to the whirlwind sonic power that Japanese four-piece [Melt Banana] can summon in the space of 20 seconds or less. The band, now going on its 15th year and legendary in the American and European underground, gets labeled many things: punk, hardcore, noise, art-rock, no wave, metal, etc. All of those labels apply, but none of them tell the full story about the band’s unique, delightfully furious, and irresistible sound.

Melt Banana often sounds more like an arty mutation of a metal act, frequently calling on the blast-beat style most often associated with the extreme/grindcore strain of metal. But even that description barely does the band justice, and the band’s diverse audience reflects their prowess at drawing from several styles but not falling directly into any one. In fact, Melt Banana is one of those quintessential gateway acts, the one show you can take your typically noise-averse or metal-hating friend to and they’d still stand a good chance of digging the shit out of it.

The easiest way to describe Melt Banana is to say they sound like a tornado with Minnie Mouse trapped and screeching inside of it, a tornado racing at full-speed across a landscape leaving air-raid sirens and general mayhem in its wake—and in a way that you can’t help but bop in place to. Known somewhat for a string of songs so short they’re over by the time you blink, Melt Banana can also lay down a mean groove and often let their songs ride to the three-minute mark. Over the course of an entire show, Melt Banana will leave you sweat-soaked and drenched in a kind of blissed-out post-spastic afterclimax. And the band is a marvel to watch too, not just because they move around a lot but because of how they move.

All three members on the band’s frontline radiate a unique, can’t-take-your-eyes-off-‘em charisma. Frontwoman Yasuko O positively commands the stage, while the more stoic, elvin-looking Rika tames a bass that looks tremendous and imposing in her teenie hands. Guitarist Agata quivers and shakes like he’s having a seizure, and his style is a radical, thrilling a departure from anything you’ve heard before much in the same way that Tom Morello’s playing felt when Rage Against The Machine first appeared. If Melt Banana were more well-known, Agata would make readers polls and draw comparisons to everyone from Morello to Andy Summers to jazz iconoclast Bill Frissell. His style is that distinctive. On new album, Bambi’s Dilemma, Agata throws some classic rock chords into his arsenal of dive-bombing siren sounds and slurring power chords, and the band finally employs large measures of texture, restraint and melody which only make the speedy parts hit harder. You don’t want to miss this show, especially since Melt Banana tend to take three years between every Stateside visit.

[Melt Banana plays Europa Sunday, Nov. 11 at 7pm.]