Last night, in the quiet intimacy of the underground scene of Shakespeare Theater, a select group of avant-garde music enthusiasts witnessed a rare and electrifying performance by the legendary Keiji Haino. The dimly lit underground stage, enclosed by the theater’s brick walls, became a sacred space where time seemed to suspend itself. Haino, a perennial figure in Japan’s experimental music scene, delivered an evening that oscillated between the transcendental and the tumultuous.
The Japanese multi-instrumentalist, known for his eclectic fusion of noise, rock, and improvisational music, once again defied categorization. His performance was a ritual of sound, a journey through the raw, primal energy of noise that was somehow deeply meditative. Haino communed with his instruments – guitar, voice, percussion – each becoming an extension of his spiritual inquiry into the very nature of sound.
Dressed in his signature black attire, with long white hair falling over his face and obscured further by dark sunglasses, Haino appeared as a shadowy figure, drawing the audience into his personal abyss. His sunglasses, a staple of his enigmatic presence, added to the sense of distance and mystery.
His relationship with music has always been more metaphysical than technical, and last night was no exception. The performance began with a slow, almost reverent exploration of silence – each note plucked from his guitar hung in the air, a sharp contrast to the absence of sound that preceded it. It was as if he was teaching the audience to listen anew, not merely to hear.
Then, suddenly, a surge of dissonance. Haino’s hands moved with controlled violence over his instrument, summoning waves of chaotic feedback that reverberated through the room. It was exhilarating and unsettling, a musical assault. Yet beneath the noise, there was an undeniable beauty – a reminder that art often finds its deepest expression in chaos.
Throughout the night, Haino alternated between delicate, haunting vocalizations and guttural screams, each reflecting a different aspect of his musical persona. His voice – unpredictable and unearthly – served as another instrument, bending and distorting to the demands of the moment. There were times when his vocals rose to an almost angelic purity, only to collapse moments later into feral growls.
In this space, where the mainstream had no place, Haino’s performance felt like a direct challenge to the conventions of both music and performance art. It was a reminder of why he continues to be revered, not only for his technical mastery but for his deep philosophical engagement with sound itself. His music does not entertain – it confronts. It forces the listener to grapple with discomfort, with beauty, with the limits of perception.
As the performance neared its end, Haino set aside his electric instruments and reached for a single cymbal. Gently, he began moving it through the air, creating shimmering, metallic waves that reverberated softly in the room. The sound was anything but meditative—it was unpredictable, on the verge of chaos. Soon, he picked up a second cymbal, holding both in his hands, colliding them with erratic intensity. At times, he would strike the cymbals with a hammer, producing a more brutal, jarring sound that heightened the tension. What followed was not a composed melody but a clash of metallic clamor – chaotic, wild, and somehow evolving into something that felt like music.
When the final strike fell, leaving the air humming with the residual vibrations, silence settled heavily in the room. The audience paused, as if still processing the intensity of what they had just witnessed. Then, with a deep sense of reverence, they broke into respectful applause, acknowledging not just the performance, but the bold and visceral act of creation they had been privileged to experience.
In a world where much of art is expected to be easily consumable, Keiji Haino remains a formidable outlier. His music is a confrontation with the unknown, a refusal to conform, and a challenge to explore the depths of sound and silence alike. For the few who were present last night, it was a moment of revelation.
