Being included in the cavernous universe of Julian Cope's writing doesn't assure a proper legacy. It actually means that you've been lost in the shuffle and had your work pretty much ignored by Western audiences in general. The story of Shiniki Chen is basically that. There are certainly enough drug related recollections and crazed live stories floating around to sate every nerdy cultist. And while those are surely interesting, the fact that Chen was supposed to be the Japanese Hendrix trumps all of that nonsense. After hearing just a bit of Shinki Chen And His Friends, it'd be kinda hard to disagree.
At the time when Chen began playing in public, the rock scene in Japan mainly consisted of de rigueur Beatles knock offs. Not that there's a problem with that - I would imagine that a huge number of '60s groups cut their teeth that way. And while Chen went through a laundry list of bands, occasionally putting in time behind a drum set, his desire to rave up a blues track like the Yardbirds - but in much elongated fashion - keep him moving forward. And eventually after switching line ups no less then four times, Chen was granted a trio set up and with being lead guitarist.
Food Brain - which doesn't sound good in any language - was an entirely improvised trio that performed out a few times and rushed a full length before they were able to gel as a collective. If those discs are out there still, I'm sure they've got a pretty heft price tag affixed. But the result of Chen's playing in a group that actually released an album was to garner at least a modicum of attention. And as a result of this, he was paired with a Japanese label executive that happened to wanna kick out the jams, as it were. This grouping would yield a few Chen related discs including Speed, Glue and Shiniki - obviously named after members' predilection for substance abuse. And while a few discs would follow, it would seem that this drug related disc would be Chen's highest profile feature.
A few releases down the line saw Shinki Chen And His Friends released. Made up of six drawn out tracks that worked to house the guitar work of Chen, the lead off song was a bit different. In an odd move, an ambient track, "The Dark Sea Dream," comprised of various backwards loops and the like were set over the timing of a human heart. A cat can occasionally be heard meowing as a door opens. And while this was probably produced for acid freaks, it's still an interesting listen, even if at four minutes it seems to go on for a bit too long. The rest of the disc, though, which isn't all too long, unfortunately, is hard to take apart. While the songs are sung in English, it's still difficult to make out what's going on. But rest assured that the guitar prowess of Chen is aptly displayed and somehow doesn't become tiresome even after it sounds like you've heard the same song a few times before.

