I've never been one for game shows. They're mostly the type of entertainment that you watch passively (unless you're a real freak and think you can answer the questions / complete the challenges better than the contestants—in which case, what are you still doing on the couch! Go fulfill your destiny!)... and I tend not to watch if I don't plan to give it 100% of my conscious attention (I understand that I am in the extreme minority in this respect—sorry for calling you all freaks, only to immediately out myself as one as well—ごめんなさい). Still, I'm familiar enough with the concepts of most game shows to be able to peer into and appreciate the vision behind Nanoray's LP Manzai, a breakbeat record grounded in the premise of two up-and-coming comedians (named, for reference, Applemotan and Bananamada) who are conscripted into participating in a surrealist game show, presumably to compete for a grand prize... like a fabulous career in comedy, a high-rise pent-house, a million dollars... and the greatest fortune of them all... their lives. The track sequencing is aptly ordered to facilitate this narrative, and the beats (sonically and story-wise) perfectly convey a sense of rising and falling action, conveying the drama of the characters' circumstances through high-intensity synth warps and washes, zig-zagging and serpentine rhythmic changes that transform the tracks in a shedding metamorphosis along consistent thematic motifs, golden-toned beat interludes that hint at revelations and new information acquired by the characters as they unravel the logic of the adversities they're faced with, puckish sputtering vocal swatchs that humorously and invigoratingly texture topline rhythms, and tense cymbal break-ordered downbeat cacophonies that undergird low and desperate points of conflict in the plot. "Signon" begins with a burst of applause that transitions into an undulating seismic wave of grooves that narrows into a frantic, swirly dash to the finish, providing a preview of the arc of the tone of the album on the whole. The next track, "Samp1," with its overheated synth melodies and sharp, cracked, glassy beats and craggy builds, hints at a rough acquisition phase as the comedians learn the rules to the deadly game they've been enlisted to play. The punchy "Build Shit!" with its squishy mash of beats and sequences suggests that Applemotan and Bananamada have been dropped into some rendition of a live-action Rhythm Heaven Fever, while "Diver" subsists within a gravitationally defined column of plummeting arrangements, punctuated by samples that sound like they've been plundered from various instruments aboard a submarine. Each successive track adds new dimensions, and thus new challenges to be surmounted, such as the springy joust of "UO!," and the depth-charged and humbly delirious blasts of "hh." It's all so vivid and tantalizing to the imagination, eliciting visions of the story's protagonists hopping through non-Euclidean geometry and physics-defying spaces towards a finish line, dodging hazards like enormous balls of spikes, confetti jets that breathe rainbow-hued napalm, and cannons that spit live cobras and scorpions—kind of like a deadly, psychedelic adaptation of Takeshi's Castle or Unbeatable Banzuke... only with a much higher penalty for elimination. I can also imagine there being comedic elements to the challenges as well, like the players having to make situationally appropriate puns to unlock secure doors in a maze, lobbing sick burns at their opponents to activate flame jets on the other player's side of the map to impede their progress, or... I don't know, dodging tomatoes and cream pies packed with C4? There are really infinite possibilities presented by the scenario Nanoray has crafted on this record, and I could literally spend the rest of the day digging through and describing all the strange challenges that it's inspired in my head. The penultimate track "Kama6" proceeds with a deliberate, sure-footed, and earned confidence through treacherous twists and turns that communicates the extent to which the protagonists have mastered the rules of the game and are now able to pass through challenges with ease and grace—presumably while some shadowy mastermind shrieks in a control room backstage, frantically flipping switches and smashing buttons while berating subordinates in a futile bid to prevent our heroes' total triumph against the odds. Afterward, the easy keel, sparkling textures, and relaxed rhythms of the final track "Signoff" can be interpreted as a victory lap, accompanied by a montage of Applemotan and Bananamada signing autographs, accepting bushels of roses, and wading through a swarm of fans and paparazzi as they plod toward a stretch limo in the distance, all the while villains and adversaries lick their wounds and vow revenge. It's the perfect note to end this kind of record on, as well as a great wind-up for a sequel. Now my only question is, when are we going to get Manzai II?
