Concert Review: The Japanese House Creates a Dreamscape at Emo’s

Indie-pop singer The Japanese House had the audience at her sold-out Austin show bobbing heads and affectionately swaying Friday, November 10 at Emo’s, with support from songbird quinnie.

Written by William Beachum

Photos by Katie Karp

Amber Mary Bain, professionally known as The Japanese House, made her way onto indie playlists and coffee house radio stations after releasing her debut effort in 2019. With her trademark reverb-entrenched voice and soothing synths, the indie starlet explores themes of rebirth, sexuality, and acceptance on her 2023 album, In The End It Always Does. On Bain’s sixth stop in the North American leg of her titular tour, the alternative popstar balanced nostalgia and intensity with the help of quinnie, her reflective opener.

At 8:00 p.m., quinnie calmly walked onto the stage in a tight, livid-colored top, flowing red bangs, and statement glasses. The Tiktok sensation sat for most of her set, but her piercing voice managed to keep her audience engaged during songs like “gold star” and “better.” The intricate lyricist used a striking amount of Western musical elements in her set: foot and hand tambourines, spare acoustic guitar, and a characteristic vocal twang. The standout was unsurprisingly the social media viral “touch tank,” with her Gen Z crowd’s celebration propeling quinnie to another level of enjoyment. Exiting the stage at 8:40 p.m., quinnie smiled and anxiously waved, telling fans that she would be waiting at the merch table.

At 9:15 p.m., The Japanese House stylishly strutted onto the stage in a cool leather jacket and a red sweater vest. “Sad To Breathe,” made for a perfect opener as Bain built upon an unnaturally slow tempo, snickering playfully as the crowd’s anticipation grew. Strobe light exploded once the beat finally dropped after the first chorus, releasing a reverberating burst of energy into the crowd.

During the concert, Bain took the time to read every poster audience members held up, even commenting that at one point she felt like “she was reading a book.” The audience’s reaction to Bain taking off her leather jacket showcased another side of her appeal. With her sensual performance of “Touching Yourself,” it’s no wonder queer women throughout the audience gave Bain loving looks of admiration throughout the concert.

After a playful rendition of the repetitive “Something Has to Change,” Bain performed an unenthusiastic version of “Morning Pages.” Fans enthusiastically sang, “It always comes back to her” at the song’s start, but by the end, the repetition of this line felt like a chore. Audience members took this time to check the setlist on their phones and grab waters. This lethargic performance was the lowest moment of the night. The energy, variety, and experimentation of the vocal performances on “Touching Yourself” and “Something Has To Change” were absent in this number.

Contrasting this dull moment, Bain’s performance of “i saw you in a dream” showcased the subtle sentimentality of her vocals. The ballad started with a strained and warbly performance. Her light, sporadic acoustic guitar plucking supported a sense of introspective confusion. Her voice was not smooth, with rough patches of emotion leaking through her throaty, inconsistent, and squeaking tone. The warble of her voice paid homage to the song’s emotional aspects: the indecision, messiness, and anxiety of her “dream.” When “i saw you in a dream” picked up in tempo, Bain’s vocal performance slightly recovered as she passionately droned, “When I’m awake I can’t switch off / It isn’t the same but it is enough.” Her voice brokes again with a tinge of heartbreak and settled with a taste of apathy.

On “Over There,” the singer boasted her wide vocal range, nailing a high note during the chorus line “Do you like it over there?” The song sparked on its instrumental break, when a saxophonist passionately played a crisp, serene, and jazzy riff that evoked a calmness throughout the venue.

The smoothness of “Over There” was loudly interrupted by the pure vivacity of “Friends.” Neon rainbow lights overtook the stage, splashing dollops of playful, childlike beams around the venue. The live performance of “Friends” gave the song some needed intensity. The playful synthesizer riff, which follows the explicit lyrics, “When they fucked in front of you,” felt like an innocent complement rather than a tacky add-on. During this riff, lasers of white light flashed along with the aforementioned rainbow lights, complementing the variety of bright-toned instruments, including a saxophone, keyboard, synthesizer, electric guitar, and drums.

“Maybe You’re The Reason,” The Japanese House’s most well-known song, was easily the biggest hit of the night. While other songs had audience members trying to remember lyrics or simply humming along, this number had the audience chanting along on both the chorus and verses. A cool blue haze saturated Emo’s, including sculptures overhanging the perimeter of the venue. The blend of Bain’s backing track and live vocals worked especially well for this number, balancing heart and groove.

Bain then read a sign from an audience member requesting her to let them duet "Dionne .” She promptly asked for the fan to join her and a security guard carried the audience member to the stage. Bain handed the microphone to the fan and told them that they could perform whatever part of the song they wanted while she sang the harmonies. Audience members seemed dumbfounded at the performer's openness, and a slightly anxious energy overtook the crowd as they waited for the outcome. Bain complimented the singer for knowing the words, sarcastically remarking that she “doesn’t know the words” herself. After the audience member left the stage, Bain lovingly asked, “Anyone else?” before announcing that her official performance of “Dionne” would be the last song of the night. The sorrowful number left the audience emotionally satisfied for the night as The Japanese House left the stage.

Realizing that there was most likely an encore, the audience awkwardly tried to figure out what to chant, finally settling on “one more song,” which compelled Bain to return to the stage for two final songs. During the candid ode for her dog, “One for sorrow, two for Joni Jones,” Bain performed without her band for the first time during the concert. She sat center stage with only a keyboard and asked if the audience was ready to “hear a really sad song.” Audience members settled into their spots, emotionally bracing themselves into the arms of others. Even with the song's loose structure, Bain firmly held the audience’s attention. With a delicate yet strained hum, she focused on the emotionally-pining and appreciative lyrics, “No one's ever gonna love me / Like this dog lying in my lap.” Bain completed the show with a prideful “Sunshine Baby” performance. She danced around in rich rainbow-toned lights before exiting the stage with a wave and a blown kiss.

The Japanese House’s performance at Emo’s was surprisingly spontaneous. She made the audience anticipate her performance , spicing up the delivery of some more atmospheric tracks. Her standout performances showed off a goofier side of the musician's personality that crowd members found incredibly endearing, all while the fast-changing, vibrantly-colored lighting kept listeners visually engaged. The monotony of her vocal and instrumental style did create lulls, especially on “Morning Pages” and “Baby Goes Again,” but — even with her more serious vocal style and subject matter — Bain and the crowd managed to find a sense of playfulness in a majority of her performance. With quinnie setting the mood with her melancholy performance, Bain created a dreamscape of a night: a spontaneous, beautiful sonic and visual landscape with unsuspected twists and turns.