THE JAPANESE HOUSE - IN THE END IT ALWAYS DOES
credit: jay seba
Over the course of the past few months, English singer-songwriter Amber Bain, more commonly known under the guise of her enigmatic moniker The Japanese House, has been releasing singles to usher in the release of her second full-length project on the Dirty Hit label. Beginning with the release of ‘Boyhood’ and an accompanying music video of Bain and her partner riding upon a gallant black horse, Bain has been steadily almost methodically drawing fans and new listeners into her art with a consistent output of music that is to be taken note of by emerging artists looking to get their foot in the door.
After the cinematic texture of ‘Boyhood’ was established, Bain then continued with a series of live music videos including ‘Sad to Breathe’, ‘Sunshine Baby’, and ‘One for sorrow, two for Joni Jones’, that followed a more minimalistic template with a basic set design template awash with gentle lighting and the camaraderie of a handful of musicians.
Something very distinguishable about Bain’s work is that the brand of pop that she creates is compelling and unique, a word that many artists, reviewers, and industry professionals throw around constantly, and yet a term that captures the essence of what The Japanese House is. Bain doesn’t make the type of pop that will appear on the Billboard charts or the type that will appear in one of at least thirty teenage dramas on Netflix. She instead makes the type of music that you find by mistake, on a well-curated Spotify playlist or in a serene independent record store that feels eons away from the chaotic world outside. She is in a musical spectrum of her own that reminds listeners of creatives like Tame Impala or Gorillaz that welcomed other artists to collaborate while also allowing the project's leaders to generate art without the nagging of the media. Discovering her music, the stories behind it, and the history of Amber Bain is by no means a mistake though.What she can’t fully express in a three to four minute song, she’ll expand into a memoir-like, sonic quest for understanding of romance, identity, and everything in between.
In The End It Always Does is exactly what the cover art intends for it to be: a loop. An imperfect circle that conveys the reality of living, an endless routine of 180s and 360s that can feel monotonous and dreadful at times. The beginnings. The endings. The irritating feeling of starting back at square one when you were almost to the finish line. Then there’s the finality of everything coming full circle when the winds of change have made you feel unstable for so long. That is what this album is, an examination of life through the model of an endless cycle. Under the guidance of her coach The 1975’s frontman Matt Healy, we see her learning how to weave these heavy ideas and lyrics with production that feels lighter and oftentimes gratifying.
‘Spot Dog’ begins the album off, the piano player fumbles around with different chords before bleeding into a cathartic refrain underpinned by arpeggiated synths. ‘Touching Yourself’ quickly delves into the “plot” of the album, reminiscing about the lustful tenderness of a past relationship, all while subtly conveying the nostalgic reminders that accompany healing and growth.
The album’s roots were dug during the tailend of 2021, inspired by a polyamorous relationship that Bain was involved in as well as the novelty of moving to the English coastal city of Margate. Bain states, “These two people were together for six years and I met them and then we all fell in love at the same time– and then one of them left… It was a ridiculously exciting start to a relationship. It was this high… and then suddenly I’m in this really domestic thing, and it’s not like there was other stuff going on-it was lockdown.” Throughout the project, Bain bounces around between fuzzy, infectious songs like ‘Friends’ and ‘Sunshine Baby’ that retain all of the elements of a bedroom pop song along with tracks like ‘Morning Pages‘ and ‘Over There’ that breathe and swell into a nebulous glow.
Overall In The End It Always Does is a gorgeous album that leaves the listener spellbound and at ease. Bain’s technical prowess is evident in the structure of the album, how the topics, lyricism and production even out in a way that make Bain seem content with the ending of this stage in her life. When the last song plays, Bain croons with passionate melancholia but in a way that feels complete, like a journey that has been long and arduous. Bain seems to have found her ying and yang, the balance between trauma, loss and the things that are to come.
Alana Brown-Davis
★★★★☆