Haru Nemuri: Rock, rebellion and a bit of Rage

After two years of performing remotely at the South by Southwest Music Conference and Festival (SXSW) in Austin, Texas, Haru Nemuri made her first in-person appearance there last month. Her verdict? “It was really fun.”

The singer and musician, whose real name is Haruna Kimishima, has received a swathe of accolades for her performances at SXSW, being named one of the festival’s best acts in 2021 by The New York Times.

Even so, appearing onstage for the 27-year-old is never easy.

“Before playing a show, I’m always nervous and telling myself like a spell, ‘I am Haru Nemuri. I can do it. It’s OK,’” she says. “Once I’m on the stage, the tension often goes away.”

Her appearance at SXSW this year was part of a wider U.S. tour, an experience where the singer felt welcomed “very enthusiastically.”

“It was really fresh because in Japan there are few people who show their passion,” she says. “In the United States, there are many people who are actively trying to enjoy themselves and are rich in emotional expression.” And being rich in emotional expression is something neither Kimishima nor her music is lacking in.

Those unfamiliar with the oeuvre of Haru Nemuri should direct themselves to “Yume wo Miyou,” a track from her 2018 album “Haru to Shura,” or perhaps “Riot,” which appears on her 2020 mini-album “Lovetheism.” Both tracks give a good overview of what to expect from the musician: There are the rock sensibilities, the collision of distorted guitars and snapping drums, bouncy pop and, most distinctively, the rapid-fire vocals of Kimishima herself. It’s this vocal style that earned her the title of “poetry rapper.”

Now, a few years into her career and with the release of her second full album, “Shunka Ryougen,” on April 22, that moniker feels too small for what her music has become. But how does she feel about it?

“I’m not really interested in how I get viewed, so I don’t know,” she says, laughing.

Though her breathless vocal style still punctuates the music she makes, there’s much more to her output than that. It has a towering energy that doesn’t fail to enthrall; a stop-in-your-tracks composite of exciting genres that forms the basis of Kimishima’s musical style today. Her favorite artists and bands are scattered across the spectrum of rock and experimental music.

It began with “Ginga” by Fujifabric. “I was shocked when I (first) heard (it),” she says. “I think that the progressive development it has is romantic, and I often make my own songs with progressiveness in mind.” Owing to its breezy yet emotive energy, Fujifabric’s music has featured in several anime, from “Dr. Stone: Stone Wars” to “Boruto: Naruto Next Generations.”

“Fujifabric made me feel the romance that dwells in kitschy things,” she says. Her track “Shunrai” follows in that vein, tumbling through the air in a tumult of jaunty pop and punk distortion. Kimishima makes it her own, however, with trembling tracts of spoken word on a backdrop of frenetic drums like a resurrection of beat poetry,

The musician also cites Bjork (“she taught me that beauty dwells in mysterious things”) and Seiko Oomori (“I learned the beauty of pursuing what I wanted to do”) as key influences in her musical development. She also mentions Fugazi for teaching her what hardcore is and The Clash and Yeah Yeah Yeahs for showing her that “rock ’n’ roll can exist as art,” she says.

Perhaps most surprising of all of her musical muses is Rage Against the Machine. “Art exists in a dimension that is inseparable from society,” she explains, “and (thanks to them) I learned how to think about that responsibility.”

Related to the political ethos of Rage Against the Machine, Kimishima’s music has been cited as capturing the zeitgeist of a generation. “We’re the generation most in battle,” she explains, somewhat cryptically, though as the track “Who the f–k is burning the forest?” — complete with metal riff and anthemic Rage-esque chorus — will attest, it’s evident what she means.

“Shunka Ryougen” is imbued with rebellion. Even the album name puts a defiant spin on a yojijukugo (four-kanji idiom), 星火燎原 (seika-ryōgen).

“A faint fire, like the light of a star, burns and spreads, burning up the wilderness,” Kimishima explains. “Even a small force at first becomes something that cannot be handled if it’s left alone. Rebellion and riot cannot be prevented when spread.”

For the album, Kimishima exchanges “星” (sei, star) in the idiom for “春” (shun [also read as haru], spring) to reflect her stage name, but it’s not just about herself.

“Though it’s also about myself, I have a stronger image of it as a season when life awakens and sprouting energies are blowing,” she says. “I came up with this title imagining that those energies are spreading out, burning, and will lead to change, both at the level of individual awareness and in the world.”

Though it doesn’t feature vocals, the album’s final one-minute-long track “omega et alpha” arguably expresses this philosophy best. Indistinct bubbling drones die down, giving way to birdsong, the ambient sound of the air and, ominously, crows cawing.

Overall, the album is a helter skelter of ideas, brimming with both a rainbow-tinged outlook and a sense of urban tragedy. Some tracks reappear from past releases as “deconstructed” versions of their former selves. “Yume wo Miteiru,” originally from Kimishima’s debut mini-album “Sayonara, Youthphobia” (2016), stutters with staccato synth. The eponymous track of Kimishima’s 2018 EP “Kick in the World” also features on the album, complete with a surprise move from the easy-going smoothness of the intro to a sway of rock crash via a guttural, air-rending scream.

“Beyond any words, there’s a region that cannot be verbalized and for me, I can only express it by screaming,” she explains.

This thick shout, something in the realm of hardcore or screamo, features prominently, but not everywhere — a dark, howling side to the calm urgency of the “poetry rapper.” The following track, “Inori Dake ga Aru,” features a coda of wheeling screams. Earlier on, the title track alternates between spoken vocals spring-loaded with potential energy and squalling shouts; “Never Let You Go” is a track of two halves, separated by a gritted-teeth growl of the song’s name.

It’s not a popular mode of expression, certainly not a mainstream one, and yet Kimishima has found success with her blend of pop and primal screams. Mixing different elements like this, making it your own, is key.

“I think the most difficult thing is to find your own personality,” she says. “In other words, bringing it to a level that seems not to be a copy of another person.

“The easiest thing to do is to make a mundane song, which is boring so I would definitely not do it.”

Kimishima’s personality is laced through “Shunka Ryougen,” a fiery spirit that spreads and engulfs everything. One element that stands out is urgency: in vocal tone, tempo and intensity of sound. For somebody making music during a pandemic that left many feeling apathetic, this tenacious urgency must have been a blessing.

“I was still able to make music. That was the only hope,” she says. “I’m still proud to have made this album in this crap-like life. Many fans anticipated a full-size album, so I really hope they will be happy.

Beyond the new album, and in line with its broad themes of rebirth and renewal, Kimishima is optimistic. “What I hope for the world is (for it) to be a place where everyone can live equally and with peace of mind.”

Haru Nemuri’s second album “Shunka Ryougen” is available now. For more information, visit http://harunemuri.love.

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