Monday, March 9, 2009

Where is Harumi?? The Search for the Lost Psychedelic Troubador─Part 1: Hello


New York, 1967. Tom Wilson, man behind the mixing desk for such legendary artists as Bob Dylan, Frank Zappa, The Velvet Underground, and Simon and Garfunkel, has persuaded Verve Records to sign and fund his newest project for distribution on their Forecast imprint. Unlike the other acts that Wilson helped shape into the defining sounds of an era, this artist will barely make a mark on history. His name is Harumi, he's from Japan, and he creates a psychedelic pop album that would eventually be heralded as everything from lost classic to hopelessly frazzled to Holy Grail among squares and psych-heads decades later, but not before he manages to completely disappear from the music industry and into the void of complete and total obscurity.

There is very little known about the man named Harumi, if that's even his real name (and it's debatable, as "Harumi" has female connotations in Japanese). Virtually every source-every blog, every website-has the exact same information on him: He came from Japan to New York to record an album, and disappeared. Did he remain in America to take part in the flower power movement? Could he have returned to Japan, sealing the fate on his obscurity by becoming a salaryman? Presumably, nobody outside his family knows. He could be anywhere in the world. He could be dead.

The actual album itself only adds to the mystery. Recorded between 1967 and 1968, it was a product of its time: a psychedelic gem released at the height and in the heyday of the genre's popularity and ubiquity. A double LP with a gatefold sleeve, its richly colored artwork (courtesy of "Sherri Berri") stands out even considering the acid-and-sun soaked milieu of the time. Inside, though, there is little information regarding its musicians. Harumi does indeed seem to be the singer's name (as evidenced by the strange side story written on the back end of the sleeve), but aside from the usual professional credits such as Producer (Tom Wilson), Arranger (Larry Fallon, Harvey Vinson, and Harumi), and Engineer (Val Valentin), there is nothing regarding who played the actual music.

Which, of course, is the most mysterious and intriguing part of all, akin to coming to the center of a maze only to find a completed puzzle with the center piece missing, nowhere to be found. Opener "Talk About It" sounds like Sgt. Pepper-era Beatles trying to play classic Motown as Harumi searches for his mind instead of his girl. "First Impressions" switches between spidery guitar lines and blaring horn calls. The gently trippy "Don't Know What I'm Gonna Do" (apparently known as "Love Song" on the original album sleeve) adds sweet strings and subtle vibraphone (there's tons of both on the record) to an already irresistible "La la la laa" refrain. Acidic hippie anthem "Hello" was sampled by hip hopper Edan on his Beauty and the Beat album and "Sugar in Your Tea" has a great drumbeat and phased vocals (One of Wilson's favorite tricks on the album, there's liberal amounts of phase everywhere), ending with an almost holy organ solo. "Caravan" (once again seemingly under a different title on the original sleeve, as "I Took a Ride (in Your Caravan))" has got some smooth guitar lines and prominent organ following its slow, heavily phased intro. "Hunters of Heaven" brings back the string and horn sections, rushing and sudden, and features spooky echoing vocals in the middle. "Hurry Up Now" and "What a Day For Me" are both laid back jams, the former with a vibraphone solo towards the end and the latter a thinly veiled tribute to a day trip on acid; our hero even seems to forget a line or two. Rounding out the first LP is "We Love," an idealistic semi raga, and "Fire by the River," another great organ and guitar tune with a catchy, wordless chorus.

While the first LP is all accessible, colorful pop, the second disc consists of only two songs, each a side long. The first, "Twice Told Tales of the Pomegranate Forest," is a strange meditative piece that consists of Harumi and "Rosko" (by some accounts Wilson himself, by others a prominent New York DJ) engaging in what would be a stretch to call a conversation. Harumi is almost certainly out of his mind (you can tell by his giggles) while Rosko/Wilson/whoever is completely trapped inside his (you can tell by his woah-dude narrative). Beyond that, there is a the constant beat of a tabla and the wandering notes of a koto, a vibraphone, and possibly a cello. Atmosphere is everything for the track, and it's perfect for a late night listen. The other song is "Samurai Memories," a full out acid jam where Wilson turns a blind eye to the proceedings and lets anything go, even spoken appearances from Harumi's parents and sister. Both tracks are quite long and usually warrant overlooking in favor of the great pop songs, but both are worth it and make for a great complete listen in context with the rest of the album.

Harumi isn't perfect, but in its imperfections it creates a certain charm and allure completely unique to itself. Harumi sounds like Your Friendly Neighborhood Acid-Head (though psychedelic blogger/uberenthusiast Dr. Schluss likened him to "a stoned cosmonaut," which actually seems to work pretty well as a compliment, I guess) and the album itself plays out as such; innocent rock, folk, or soul filtered through the lysergic brain of a Japanese expatriate and the adventurous producer willing to capture it all on tape.

Harumi does deserve the praise and cult following its gathered over the years, and the title of "lost classic" is well earned. In fact, if it hadn't been for Fallout Records, it might truly be lost; copies of the original double LP are rare and go for upwards of 50 dollars, and that's considering someone is even willing to part with their treasure. As we'll see, though, Fallout was deserving of its name, and in bringing it back, they ultimately only contributed to the murkiness surrounding the album.

And the search hasn't even begun...

9 comments:

vivienne said...

illuminating and entertaining, as always!

anton tyrberg said...

Just discovered Harumi a few moments ago and here I am already trying to figure out who this mysterious creature is

nealumphred said...

THANKS for posting this data on Harumi. The guy was almost as obscure in 1968 as he is today!

Billboard first listed the HARUMI album in its 4 Star section on March 23, 1968.

https://books.google.com/books?id=sQoEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA70&lpg=PA70&dq=harumi+billboard+1968&source=bl&ots=OdG_E0zn7g&sig=LD6nPxUMMXeGLQdW0-dRLJmRejI&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiv36T5m7fNAhUL42MKHczuDa44ChDoAQgbMAA#v=onepage&q=harumi%20billboard%201968&f=false

This would normally indicate a release date no later than March 11, 1968.

Billboard mentions Harumi doing a 15-city tour in the April 20, 1968, issue.

https://books.google.com/books?id=qwoEAAAAMBAJ&pg=PA10&lpg=PA10&dq=harumi+billboard+1968&source=bl&ots=OqQxbVVpY7&sig=jozo_MdyMR0ONAAbFAAO7_3mro4&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwia25HAmbfNAhUB6GMKHdi-C3MQ6AEIMTAD#v=onepage&q=harumi%20billboard%201968&f=false

By the end of 1968, the HARUMI album could be found in the dollar bins of various five-and-dime stores around the country (McCrorys, Newburys, etc.).

Anonymous said...

I found mine for $2 in the 80's in SF. Listening to it now, it's a bit underwhelming.

Anonymous said...

Yes! This album is awesome. Most of the reviews online either don't get it at all or don't capture whats really going on with it. You've done it much better service. It must have been a bit ahead of it's time or just not well promoted by the label. It's just such a great combo of psych, soul, rock and funk all delivered by Harumi's stoned out raw vocals that are a little reminiscent of Damo Suzuki. Did Harumi become Damo Suzuki?. There's definitely more to this cat Harumi.

Redtelephone66 said...

Harumi Ando past away in January of 2007. He was 62 years old.

Lowlifelola said...

How did you find this out?

Lowlifelola said...

How did you find this out?

Lowlifelola said...

How did you find this out?