We Acediasts
"Pre Acediasts" PRESS

It always seems to be the case that the bands who were truly the most innovative in any movement are the least celebrated. We Acediasts were doing the jazzy, spazzy, death disco thing way back in 2001 - before hordes of Bedford Wives would catch on to the craze - and settled into a studio with James Murphy before DFA would hit the big time. "Pre Acediasts" is, in fact, one of the earlier records DFA produced, and until now was only made available in a run of 500 LPs. The songs that the band recorded are rooted in the same fundamental style that has become the trademark of the bands that have followed, but the intensity of the sound and the crazy Japanese vocals set the tracks apart - throwing heads into the deep, mad ether of fever. That see the stars trip is managed by the non-stop pound of oil barrel drums and ping (no pong) bass assembly line which lock the body in dance floor stomps. The best songs are the short ones - "Omoshiroi Omoshiroi Omoshiroi" and "Kajiroudou" - they're fun, spastic and without the drone of some of the longer ones. Substance instead of style taints more than a few tracks, though as with any avant-garde work, it's the concept that is ultimately more interesting than the presentation. "Hitori Heiwa Na Nyapo" is a standout, mildly reminiscent of The Crainium, and made up of heavy percussion and an honestly creepy chorus of chanting that speeds to a frantic finale. The ferver of earlier songs loses out to a more subdued sound and sparse vocals, which comes unexpectedly but is not unwelcome. We Acediasts were clearly way ahead of their time. It might be too early to start looking back, but thankfully we can escape the envy of missing out on the best of what went down before the rest would come to carry the torch and burn into the future. - repellent

...We Acediasts don't know whether they're a rock band, a dub outfit or a Can-tribute band. In all honesty, none of this makes a difference... As We Acediasts, they made friends with James Murphy [of the ever-present DFA] who produced these particular tracks. There is much repetitive rock energy as guitars and bass take centre stage with some angry vocals by Takamoto. These guys wanted to be both Can and Suicide at the same time. The drawn-out level plane that is this band is too good to be true... One of the final tracks is especially brilliant as it features a highly reverberated, overpowering dub beat with lots of feedback. Call it what you will, but I'm in love with the cookie sounds of [both the We and the Pre] Acediasts. - gaz-eta

Ok, time for a quick history lesson. The year is 2001 and DFA are still sharpening their ability to make a skinny white kid shake his fucking ass. The NY dance-punk-whatever scene hadn't quite blown-up yet. We Acediasts, three Japanese folks and Justin Simon from Native Nod, were part of this soon-to-be huge scene. And boy howdy could they raise a spaced-out ruckus. This record was recorded in 2001 and produced by DFA with intentions of being released by Troubleman Unlimited. But, the band broke up. The record was then released on vinyl in a limited pressing of 500, leaving very few people with the chance to hear the manic escapades of We Acediasts until now. All of the ingredients are here, especially the white boy disco beat...And they start out with seven minutes of that. But this is even more interesting than most of the current N-wavers because we've also got the Japanese vocalists here. That's where the 'manic' comes in. By the second cut, Ibasho, this shit is just plain fun. I'm shaking it like a motherfucker, nudging the volume up further and further...The funk and the rock and the weird all just coalesce so well. Ibasho is a gem. The kraut-rock is worn on sleeves in plain view and it is glorious...The weirdness blossoms with budget synths and tin-can beats as support. Gangly, awkward and delirious. The remaining tracks have their own continuity and the strange just keeps getting stranger as the album proceeds. The vocals shift from demented and child-like to strangled yelps and just plain odd-ness. And this is basically how the remainder of the album sounds. If you're into to some of the more far-out Japanese bizarro spunk, this might just be up your alley. I wish they hadn't disbanded because this record shows some real goddamn potential...there are some strong cuts here which certainly act as building blocks for what has become an indie music phenomenon of sorts. - indieworkshop

This 4-piece band plays ultra-sparse, bass-heavy psychedelic guitar rock with understated, squealing Japanese vocals that remind me of Ian Svenonious. The first two cuts, which were recorded in NYC by the DFA in 2001, place way more emphasis on the bass than the drums, and aim straight at the booty. They can shake bottoms with the best disco or dub. The remainder of the songs were recorded in Japan when the band was an electronic duo with a sound reminiscent of Cabaret Voltaire. Hypnotic and happening. - giant robot

For a band that is named after a word that no longer exists in the dictionary, these guys are pretty current. Three parts Japanese, one part New Jersey and all other parts awesome, these young chaps rock the bells like a dirty-disco punk and box out the beats like an ill-programmed robot. A record made for the clubs of yesteryear and the homes of the future. - tokion

This is an expanded CD release of a limited vinyl run recorded in 2000-1, from a now-defunct Japanese band. One can only guess what the name is supposed to signify: we who are filled with spiritual torpor (English), we who are without care or sorrow, or we who take no care for, no heed of (ancient Greek). They were too heedless or torpid apparently to continue together making music. Whatever. The CD actually combines tracks from two different lineups-WE Acediasts and PRE Acediasts-having in common Justin Simon and Takamoto Masaki. It could be that they took no heed of genre, though "genreless" is in danger of becoming a genre of its own. The music is pleasantly fuzzy and atmospheric, a sort of synthesized punk. "Kousho" features garage riffs with lots of reverb and a suspiciously disco-like beat. "Ibasho" begins sounding sort of Joy Divisionish (or early New Orderish) until the vocal kicks in. The vocal shriek is throughout like an instrument in itself, to uncomprehending ears sounding almost more machine-made than human. The CD concludes nicely with "Kyoukai Ongaku," a mellow organ(ic) base overlaid with synthetic meanderings. It is my favorite, so the end is satisfying, not ruined by an anticlimactic piece. - kitty magik