*The photos were taken on the 25th of March at Koenji 20000V.

His present out fit, The Discaholics Anonymous Trio, is not for everyone, I'm afraid. In fact, it's probably for only a very few of you out there. Completely free of structure or logic, the trio's work seems to originate from deep within the wells of the Id, where the harsh, beautiful and absurd can be galvanized into extended stretches of sound.

The venue, Aoyama Cay, was crammed full. Everyone craned their neck, straining to see the seated O'Rourke at the mixers or Gustafson with his assortment of woodwind assemblages. Moore was standing. Thus, he became the only fixture for everyone's attention, his eyes clamped shut, his 6 foot-plus frame swaying incoherently.

The music they created would be questioned by many, for sure. In its free-form state, it resembles some of O'Rourke's past work with "spontaneous music" experiments. It was here that samplers and sequencers were used to create multi-layers of sound from random recorded noises. O'Rourke seemed to be doing the same thing, using percussive, bubble-like pops and the sound of a broken music box.

Gustafson seemed to breathe through his saxophone more than blow notes, often making sounds similar to the sniffs of a dog near a microphone. His other reed instruments looked vaguely similar to clarinets, but the alterations became apparent once he began to play coarse, tortured notes that seem to struggle all the way out his lips and through the horn. The average layman would claim his sounds were similar to a novice or a complete beginner honking on it just for a laugh. But on careful inspection, one could see Gustafson's notes were intensely calculated. He was also practicing cyclical breathing, a very difficult technique of constant play without stops to take a breath.

O'Rourke spread a network or sampling, calmly altering the speed and sound to his liking while Moore scraped, thumped and scratched the strings of his guitar, creating sounds reminiscent of both rain and thunder.

The torrent of sound did not cease for over fifteen minutes, whereby the second piece (appropriately titled "second little piece") began with Gustafson straining to draw out the notes from within him. Sharp and percussive, his solo crackled with tension until Moore and O'Rourke entered with wavering distortion and needlepoint synth. The third and encore piece found Moore performing a Sonic Youth signature: a drumstick wedged between the strings of his guitar. Gustafson disappeared from view once he sat down again, so one could only guess what he was playing then. Judging by sound alone, it seemed to be some sort of saw or rusty violin. O'Rourke continued his electrical tirade until quite suddenly, it was all over. Hands clapped and brows furrowed as the crowd digested what they heard.

The Discaholics Anonymous Trio's work may not be everyone's cup of tea. But if it is an acquired taste, the Japanese art-rock community seems ready to drink it up. Two back-to-back Tokyo shows filled to capacity prove that.

report by jason and photo by saya38.