Round Table feat. Nino

an intro to + some personal thoughts on Round Table, Nino, and spring..

Emilio Cardillo-Schrader

Emilio Cardillo-Schrader

@emilijuo

Round Table feat. Nino is one of those artists/groups that will always feel strange to talk about. Not just because this is my first article on en que 'pera (yay!), and not because there isn't really too much to say about the group due to their mystique, but because their music is so tied to feeling. Tied to the feelings of certain places, people, and moments that only become harder to explain and farther to grab hold of the closer you try to get to them.

Early Days

Before Nino joined the group, Round Table, composed of Katsutoshi Kitagawa (vocals, guitar, and bass guitar) and Rieko Ito (vocals and keyboard) was much different then what they would eventually become.

Tracks weren't as catchy or 'poppy' since the group lacked someone who could write and perform quite in the way Nino could (even though Kitagawa and Ito were really great vocalists in their own right) and it is easy to see. However, this isn't at all to say that the music they were making during this time is a step down from their more popular and well-known works with Nino. It was just different.

Their music during this time had pace. It had a groove. It was free and had real feet to run and was full of entropy compared to the more structured and lyric-focused stuff that would come later. This was a special time for Round Table; it is where I think they really found their sound and what kind of groove they wanted to explore.

Albums like World's End and Big Wave 72' are my favorites from this era of the band, with Windy (World's End) and Jazz on a Holiday (Big Wave 72') being to great tracks to start with, and Mexican Drag Race probably being the most quintessential.

/

Before moving onto Nino's addition though, I should probably mention what genre or type of music the group made and would go on to make with Nino, but this actually isn't too straight forward.

For now, we'll just throw them into the genre of Shibuya-Kei, even though I'd argue they (like other Shibuya-Kei groups) pull from so many varying genres that it's hard to be scientific about a label.

On that note, I'll probably write an article about Shibuya-Kei eventually since it and its influences all have a special place in my heart (shoutout Natalie for the put on). Check out Orange Glider on YouTube if you're interested though; he makes immensely thought-out and detailed videos about this pocket of 90's/OO's Japanese music.

Enter Nino

Ninomiya, or, as we've come to know her, Nino, was a college student living near Kitagawa. She had some adjacent friends/collaborators with Kitagawa and Ito, and one day, she was asked to sing on a working track called Let Me Be With You.

If you've had any intro to Round Table prior to reading what I have to say about them, then I'm sure you know this one. It was, and still is, RTFN's biggest song. Mostly because it's simply beautiful, but also because of its appearance as the opening for the seinen manga and anime series, Chobits. And as side note, the group would also have their music featured in Welcome to the NHK, another anime series where their song Puzzle was the opening for all 24 episodes.

After the recording, an engineer staff found out that Nino wasn't a proper member of Round table, and insisted that she work with the group.

This is how Round Table feat. Nino came to be.

Spring... April is Here

Is the feeling of wanting to return to some special moment that is long in the past, good or bad?

Does it even matter if the moment itself was good or bad?

April, Nino (album), and the majority of (if not all of) RTFN’s work presents these mystifying feelings/questions quite unexpectedly.

The brightest horns, hopeful(lest?) strings, and punchiest kicks make it feel like your favorite spring day; that spring day that you dream about all winter (and maybe even in the other seasons).

So why do I feel so off now that it's here?

Now that I'm back, why don't I feel the same?

(I think) because it's different now. It's not and never will be the same spring.

/

Careful, often emotionally ambiguous reflection is a motif that I've found to be really interesting in the group's music considering how pearlescent and lush it always seems to be.

I was considering writing about a number of tracks that stick out to me in this way, but there are quite a lot, (Let Me Be With You, Stay With Me, ...) so I think I'll just mention one here: Natsukashii (なつかしい)

Natsukashii is often translated to English as nostalgic, but as is often the case, the Japanese meaning, and RTFN's interpretation, goes beyond simple nostalgia.

/

The fourth track from Nino (album). The initial swelling of the strings and pads remind me so much of someone I know, but haven't seen in a while, and everything just comes rushing back.

The chorus, so jubilantly happy and deeply sad. I see that person, that time, that place ... but why like this?

This is the heart of why this song is so special - it is the definition of bittersweet - and whether it's more bitter or more sweet honestly depends on the day I'm listening. Bitter, because that time is gone (?), and sweet, because you can remember it clearer and more beautifully than almost any other memory.

From what I've gathered online, Natsukashii itself leans sweet, having a more positive connotation, but this song just has so many movements and these very quiet ripples of some kind of yearning that I can't help but feel like this connotation is in limbo.

You really need to listen to say for yourself.

/

My favorite section goes:

...

The color of the wind brushing across my cheeks
頬をかすめていく 風の色が

Someday it will signal the beginning of summer
いつか夏のはじまりを告げる

...

You’re reminded of that feeling by things as trivial as the wind. It’s always at the forefront of your mind.

Maybe one day it’ll make you feel you are now finally ready for summer. Ready to forget (or at least accept) that last spring is gone.

Maybe you'll feel something else. That spring can come back, or that it can/should stay forever, and you’ll keep waiting for the wind to remind you of that.

///