Who’s up for a hike? 😎
Rise and shine, ladies and gents! We’ve got quite the day ahead of us here on the J-Music Exchange/Rate, thanks in no small part to the particular album I have the pleasure of sharing with you all this month. If you’re one of our regulars, I’m sure you’re already geared up and ready to hit the trail with us. For those of you joining us for the very first time though, first off, welcome! Before we get underway, please give the following primer a quick read:
The Exchange/Rate is a tandem album review series conducted every month by yours truly alongside my good friend and fellow Japanese music fan Al (from Omunibasu). Each month we decide on a specific theme with which our reviews would revolve around. We then pick out albums from our respective libraries which we think best coincides with that theme. We will then give the album we chose to the other person and vice versa (exchange), after which we then listen to and subsequently review the album we were given (rate). This project has not only allowed us to explore music beyond our libraries, but it provides an opportunity for us to see our favorite albums from a different point of view. It is our hope that this series is able to do the same for you and that you either find a new artist to try out and/or we offer you a fresh take on one of *your* favorite albums
Al and I take turns deciding the theme for each month’s Exchange/Rate, and for July, the honors went back to him. His idea was for us to talk about albums that make you want to play/learn, an instrument. Not necessarily in the sense that they inspire you to start writing music yourself, but rather those moments where you hear a particular melody or performance and think, “Man, it’d be really cool to be able to play something like that.” Less about the songwriting, and more about the simple desire to pick up an instrument and give it a shot.
To that end, I sent Al off to check out yubiori2 by yubiori, which you can read all about over at the Omunibasu Substack. In return, Al handed me Super Climbing Club’s self-titled debut album, Super Climbing Club, to share with you all today.
So then…
Let’s go hiking, shall we?
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Formed in 2023 in Aichi Prefecture, Super Climbing Club (スーパー登山部) is a five-piece indie nature pop rock band built around a concept the concept of “mountains and music”. True to their name, the members don’t simply sing about mountaineering. They actually go out and climb mountains together, performing not only in live houses but even at mountain lodges sitting at elevations of around 3,000 meters. That same sense of adventure naturally carries over into the band’s music. Songwriter Oda Tomoyuki freely blends together folk, alternative rock, pop, jazz, and electronic influences to create songs that vividly evoke the feeling of being out in nature, while vocalist Hina’s crisp, airy singing gives everything an incredible sense of openness.
＜Ｓｕｐｅｒ Ｃｌｉｍｂｉｎｇ Ｃｌｕｂ (スーパー登山部)＞
(＊Spotify link to the full album)
CDJapan Affiliate Link(s):
Super Climbing Club [Regular Edition] / Super Climbing Club
＜T ｒａｃｋｌｉｓｔ＞
０１・Departure
０２・Breathe
０３・燕/tsubame
０４・頂き/itadaki
０５・いつかはね/itsukahane (Album Ver.)
０６・hatoba (Album Ver.)
０７・意志拾い/ishihiroi
０８・ITAI
０９・ハイライト/highlight
１０・樹海/jukai feat. TENDRE
１１・火花/hibana
１２・木枯らし/kogarashi
１３・スーパー銭湯もある/super sentou mo aru
１４・風を辿る/kaze wo tadoru
Ａｌ：Even though it’s probably in my best interest to go down this path, I am not much of an active or outdoorsy person. However, the idea of hiking, mountain climbing, camping, and exploring nature in general has always had an interesting connection to music, as it can often inspire people to listen to and/or create songs that exemplify the relaxing, calming atmospheres seen in those recreational activities. One well-known example that’ll come to most people’s minds (at least, to me and other Westerners who enjoy Japanese media) are the many anime soundtracks heard in shows that revolve around such pastimes, like Sora yori mo Tooi Basho, Non Non Biyori, and of course, Yuru Camp. They’re obvious mentions, I’ll admit, but I do genuinely give these shows (and the composers behind them) a lot of credit for introducing me to music that exert an upbeat, natural characteristic to them.
While I’ve sought-out songs with a similar tone throughout my time as a Japanese music fan (e.g., Ohashi Trio, Kamishiraishi Mone, Hanaregumi), I don’t think you can find an artist that’s more dedicated to expressing outdoor recreation than a pop band full of actual & frequent mountain climbers.
And just like the name of their band, and full-length album from this past June, suggests, Super Climbing Club truly does embody the sensations of taking in our natural environment. Even right from the beginning, “Departure” builds up to the dawn of a brand new day, while “Breathe” perfectly exudes a ‘bright-and-early’ energy that can put you in a confident mood in the morning. And I think why SCC is able to communicate this so well is definitely because of their instrumental abilities, where they express that lovely folksy tone through the soft flutes and keyboards, as well as the acoustic guitar melodies that easily remind me why the acogui is such a perfect and versatile instrument that’s worth playing and learning.
But at the same time, it’s really neat to hear a group like them also branch out and try various styles that still fit well with the album’s overall theme. Whether it’s a gorgeous piano ballad that see vocalist Hina belt out a passionate performance, how the inclusion of an electric guitar adds some bite to certain songs (“Highlight”), or even that TAMTAM-esque chill reggae vibe heard on “Super Sento Mou Aru”… their whole background is certainly intriguing on its own, but for them to also be a bunch of talented musicians and singers that embrace their interests and convey that love through the art of music just makes them an even cooler band in my eyes.
＜Ｓｏｎｇｓ ｏｆ Ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔ＞
０１・Departure、０２・Breathe
In as much as we tend to, if not always, talk about an album’s opening track here on the Exchange/Rate, I feel like it’s actually been a while since we’ve had a dedicated opener like Departure. Much like its namesake, and I have to imagine intentionally so, Departure feels like it’s trying to capture those quiet moments just before setting out on a long journey. It’s the crack of dawn; you’ve finished making your final preparations while everyone else is still asleep, and you’re standing at the beginning of what lies ahead. In an album spanning fourteen tracks, Super Climbing Club itself almost feels like its own mountain to climb, but I’ll come back to that thought a little later. As someone who almost always listens to an album from front to back, I personally love inclusions like this. Not because I think an introductory track is what makes or breaks an album, but because it encourages a continuous playthrough and gives the record a greater sense of continuity.
That winds up paying off almost immediately as Departure seamlessly gives way to Breathe, the first full song on the album. If Departure is the moment before the journey begins, then Breathe feels like watching the sun slowly rise once you’re already on the road. You know those moments during a road trip when everyone in the car is still asleep, only for someone to wake everybody up because the sunrise outside is just too beautiful to miss? That’s exactly the image the song paints for me. It’s also here that we get our first proper taste of Super Climbing Club’s indie nature-pop sound, brought to life by Hina’s wonderfully crisp, airy vocals. Every time she sings, I can’t help but imagine a cool mountain breeze passing by. In fact, if I had to describe the band’s overall sound, I’d probably call it “Alps-like.” Not in the yodeling sense of the word, of course (lol), but in how vast and open everything feels. Hina’s voice creates an incredible sense of space that gives the music room to breathe, reminding me a lot of what I’ve written in the past about Kamishiraishi Mone’s singing.
０３・燕/tsubame
I’ve since listened to Super Climbing Club a fair bit at the time of writing this review, and without fail, I always find myself coming back to Tsubame. To the point where, yes, I do think it’s ultimately my favorite track on the album. The song continues that outdoorsy atmosphere established by the first two tracks through Super Climbing Club’s organic folk-inspired guitar work, but presents it in a noticeably more pop-oriented fashion thanks to its subtle incorporation of synths and electronic beats. Those electronic touches are actually one of the defining characteristics of the band’s sound throughout the album, so in that sense, Tsubame isn’t necessarily doing anything radically different from the rest of the record. What makes it stand out to me instead is its execution. Super Climbing Club is, by and large, a remarkably cohesive album, so it isn’t often that one song immediately jumps out from the others. Tsubame, however, manages to do exactly that through a series of memorable moments that keep unfolding from beginning to end.
The opening already does a wonderful job of grabbing your attention. It actually reminds me a little of how Utada Hikaru opens One Last Kiss, with Hina briefly breaking away from the melody with a quick vocal hook that almost feels like she’s calling you to your feet, inviting you to come along for a leisurely stroll. There’s also a lovely little vocal run at around the 1:05 mark that immediately brought suis from Yorushika to mind, adding even more to the song’s pop sensibilities. Despite all of that though, Super Climbing Club never strays too far from the mountain path that defines the album. Almost immediately afterward, the band slips into a cheeky Appalachian-inspired passage complete with hoedown-like fiddle, making it feel as though you’ve wandered onto a scenic hiking trail. Then, just when you think they’ve shown all their cards, the song makes a wonderfully seamless transition around the 2:12 mark into a jazzy bossa nova groove. If I had to say, Tsubame was the track that surprised me the most. Prior to this review, I wasn’t overly familiar with Super Climbing Club beyond occasionally seeing their name pop up alongside bands I already followed, so hearing them navigate so many different musical ideas genuinely impressed me.
０７・意志拾い/ishi hiroi
About halfway up the trail, Super Climbing Club decides to take a well-earned breather with Ishi hiroi. Not that the climb has exactly been strenuous up to this point. Quite the opposite, actually. The first half of Super Climbing Club unfolds at a wonderfully relaxed pace, with each song naturally flowing into the next. Comparatively though, Ishi hiroi feels even more unhurried, stripping back some of the production heard throughout the earlier tracks in favor of something that sounds a little more candid while still retaining the band’s ensemble approach to making music. The image that always comes to mind is that of the band stopping for a few minutes along the trail, taking in the scenery before casually picking up their instruments and playing whatever comes to them in the moment. There’s an effortless quality to the performance that makes it feel weightless and carefree.
It’s also here that guitarist Ishikawa Yuu steps forward to share vocal duties with Hina, giving the song a male-female twin vocal arrangement. I thought the layering between their voices was beautifully handled, but more than that, I really enjoyed how naturally they played off one another. Neither voice ever feels like it’s competing for the spotlight; instead, they complement each other in a way that fits the band’s warm, communal sound perfectly. I also appreciated this as a midpoint in the album. Up until now, Super Climbing Club had established a fairly consistent musical identity, so hearing them introduce another vocalist this far into the record was an unexpected but very welcome surprise. If anything, I actually came away wishing they’d explored this dynamic a little more often. There’s an added musicality that comes with having two distinct vocalists to work with, and while I would’ve loved to hear more of it, there’s also something to be said for keeping it in their back pocket and only bringing it out when the moment feels right.
１０・樹海/jukai feat. TENDRE
The last song I wanted to highlight before moving on to my overall thoughts is Jukai, featuring singer-songwriter and producer Kawahara Taro, better known by his solo moniker TENDRE. I’ll admit, this collaboration completely caught me off guard. Based on what I’d come to know about Super Climbing Club over the course of the album and what I already knew of TENDRE’s music, I never would’ve guessed there’d be much overlap between the two. At the same time though, it also helps put into perspective where Super Climbing Club currently stands within the Japanese music scene. Being able to collaborate with an already established artist like TENDRE speaks to just how much respect they’ve garnered from their peers. Perhaps as a direct consequence of that collaboration, Jukai ends up feeling like one of the album’s biggest departures stylistically. One moment you’re leisurely walking through the woods alongside the band, and the next you’re suddenly transported into what feels like a grand symphonic jazz performance (lol). Mind you, this isn’t the first time we’ve heard Super Climbing Club flirt with jazz. Tsubame already hinted at those influences earlier in the album. It was fascinating, though, hearing them lean so much further into that side of their sound here.
More than anything else, Jukai also reaffirmed something I’d been thinking since the opening stretch of the album regarding Hina’s vocals. Her lower register has such a warm, full-bodied quality to it that I honestly think, in another world, she could’ve made for an incredible jazz or R&B vocalist. Hearing her sing against this kind of orchestral accompaniment only made that thought stronger. Speaking of the arrangement itself, I don’t often find myself talking about symphonic music here on the Exchange/Rate, but I genuinely thought the accompaniment was breathtaking. From what I’ve gathered reading discussions surrounding the song online, the version included on Super Climbing Club is actually a shortened one, with live performances extending the instrumental outro quite a bit further. I haven’t had the chance to hear that version for myself yet, but if the recording here is anything to go by, I can absolutely understand why people describe it as such a magical experience. As unexpected as Jukai initially felt within the context of the album, I ultimately came away appreciating it as both a wonderful standalone piece and an exciting glimpse into another avenue Super Climbing Club could continue exploring in future releases.
＜Ｗｈａｔ Ｉ ｔｈｉｎｋ ｏｆ Ｓｕｐｅｒ Ｃｌｉｍｂｉｎｇ Ｃｌｕｂ ＞
Climbing a mountain alone is arguably one of the most ambitious things a person can set out to do. It’s a physically demanding undertaking whose greatest reward often isn’t something tangible, but rather the quiet sense of accomplishment that comes from knowing you reached the summit through your own efforts. Bring other people into that journey though, climbing alongside friends who all share the same goal, and it transforms into something else entirely. It becomes a collective effort; one built on camaraderie, trust, and the shared ambition of reaching the top together. That’s ultimately what I find to be at the heart of Super Climbing Club’s identity. Throughout Super Climbing Club, I got the distinct impression that this is a band driven by a genuine desire to create together. Their chemistry shines through in the way they perform, arrange their music, and constantly build upon one another’s ideas. The album is filled with moments that speak not only to their technical ability, but also to how much they enjoy making music with each other.
Ambition, in and of itself, isn’t inherently a good or bad thing. It’s simply what pushes people to pursue greater heights, and when paired with belief in yourself and the people around you, it often leads to wonderful things. Ironically enough, I think that same ambition is both Super Climbing Club‘s greatest strength and its biggest weakness.
Earlier, I mentioned that the album itself almost feels like a mountain to climb. At fourteen tracks in total, even accounting for the opening instrumental Departure, it can admittedly look a little intimidating before you’ve even pressed play. Having now reached the end of that journey myself, I do think Super Climbing Club may have been just a touch too ambitious in how much they tried to fit onto a single debut album. Personally, I could’ve seen the record benefiting from a bit more restraint. If the album had, for example, concluded around Ishi hiroi, I think that entire stretch would’ve formed an incredibly cohesive listening experience, perfectly capturing the feeling of setting out on a hike from sunrise to midday. Everything that follows is still enjoyable, but it doesn’t always contribute to that same vivid sense of place the first half establishes so beautifully.
At the same time though, it’s difficult for me to criticize the band too harshly for that decision because I also understand exactly where it came from. This feels like the work of a group of musicians who simply had so many ideas they were excited to share that they couldn’t bear to leave any of them behind. Even when I found myself wishing the album had been a little more concise, I never stopped admiring just how polished the musicianship remained throughout.
And perhaps that’s the greatest accomplishment of Super Climbing Club. Much like climbing an actual mountain, reaching the end of the journey is rewarding in and of itself. By the time I arrived at the summit, I couldn’t help but look back at everything Super Climbing Club had accomplished across the album with a real sense of admiration.
All in all, I think Super Climbing Club is a wonderful debut, and one that leaves me genuinely excited to see just how much higher Super Climbing Club can climb from here.
＜Ｍｙ Ｒａｔｉｎｇ＞
４.５ ｏｕｔ ｏｆ ５
＆
９ ｏｕｔ ｏｆ １０
An album having “too many songs” is, in most cases, hardly a problem to me. If anything, I’m usually happy to have more music to listen to, barring the occasional release that simply rounds out its tracklist with previously released singles and calls it a day. Thankfully, Super Climbing Club never really falls into that trap. Instead, it comes across as an album made by a band eager to show just how much they have to offer. Could it have benefited from being a little more concise? I certainly think so. At the same time though, it’s also far from being an exhausting listen. Quite the opposite, actually. There’s such a refreshing quality to Super Climbing Club’s music that even across fourteen tracks, I rarely found myself wanting to stop listening. If anything, I simply came away wishing the journey had been a little more focused rather than any shorter.
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What are your guys’ thoughts on Super Climbing Club’s self-titled debut album, Super Climbing Club? Let us know down in the comments! Likewise, we’d love to hear if there are any albums that have made you want to pick up and learn an instrument. Whether it was the guitar, piano, drums, trumpet, or something else entirely, be sure to share them with us!
Before I let you guys go, don’t forget to check out Al’s review of yubiori2 over at the Omunibasu Substack if you haven’t yet already. As always, it’s fun seeing how we each approached this month’s theme from completely different angles.
Happy Listening!