I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death…
[Video][Website]
[6.50]
Anthony Easton: I have been having dreams about shopping at the Food Lion in Twin Falls, Idaho. I have been having dreams about the Valentine Typewriter she uses in the video, but those are like the dreams I have about mid-’60s Sophia Loren, often during the daytime. I don’t think I have ever had a dream that was so weird, or so aggressively used toy piano — though I normally like weird and toy pianos. I wonder what I would have to do, to dream of crucified strawberry cupcakes, instead of price checking for flour? I know my dream of the Valentine typewriter can be had for a few hundred on eBay.
[7]
Patrick St. Michel: This is the first time Kyary Pamyu Pamyu’s music video has been miles ahead of the single it is attached to. Seriously, I’ve been watching this video a lot as an instant mood lifter, allow yourself to be overwhelmed by the joy/slight unease going on in the clip. The track, though, sounds like producer Yasutaka Nakata going into twinkling autopilot, pulling into the same box of bells and toys he used to make the bulk of Kyary’s debut album back in 2012. And I can’t blame him — this year he’s made Kyary’s excellent sophomore album, a good Perfume album and a new Capsule album, along with hanging out with J.J. Abrams. Dude needs a break! But watch the video, because it is great.
[5]
Iain Mew: These days Kyary’s reliable for not just astonishing videos but at least one great musical twist per single. This time it’s the sections of toy piano spiralling dizzyingly out from the central melody as the drums crash. It interrupts the tight order of the rest of the song, but reveals the song to be flexible enough to take it. “Mottai Nightland” is largely an unexciting retread of “Tsukema Tsukeru”, but there’s still that moment of sparkling possibility.
[6]
Jessica Doyle: Here’s Kyary spending more time staring the camera down than she did in “Invader Invader” and “PONPONPON” combined; Kyary battling ghosts and dancing crosses; Kyary torturing puppets and then becoming a puppet herself; Kyary popping up aggressively from her typewriter; Kyary falling to her death and blinking up at us from her turquoise blood spatter; Kyary cringing between ghosts in bikinis, in a sequence possibly beamed directly from the squiriming collective unconscious of Kyary’s fandom; and finally, Kyary gathering the ghosts, bikinis and all, in a defiant dance. And in the background are the constant drums, as if Kyary is leading the parade out of — into? — hell. We made Kyary mad, y’all. And why shouldn’t she be? She and Nakata have only so many directions to take the strawberry liquid fire. Maybe she’s on the descent; maybe it’s a kawaii-blind mistake to call it an ascent. “Such a waste, such a waste,” she says. I don’t care. I love her.
[8]
Alfred Soto: The creampuff twinkle of a late eighties Scritti Politti track — love that keyboard run — at the service of treacle.
[5]
Brad Shoup: My god, the figure before the first verse: it’s like the start of a Becker/Fagen lullabye. Kyary pulls toward a sleepier key for a bit… after the double-speed piano solo, we’ve moved on to a trad fusion realm. I think if I latch onto the xylophone, it’ll pull me toward someplace awesome, so I’m holding out hope for future listens.
[7]
Jonathan Bradley: The slippage in tone between funhouse and haunted house suggests “Mottai Nightland” might be where the cute becomes terrifying. Amidst the kaleidoscope of syncopation and toy piano, however, is Kyary’s carefree yet wistful refrain of mottainai — “waste.” It makes the sonic excess seem simple.
[7]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Against a wealth of toybox syncopation and simpatico vocals, it’s the chord structures of Kyary’s pre-choruses that make “Mottai” truly interesting. Sets of angular, almost seasick approaches throw the composition off-kilter within a sea of major-key rollicking. One gets the sense that “Mottai” — and Kyary — wouldn’t work if she fell down on either side of the fence. She squeaks straight through everything regardless to how odd it sounds, and makes it seem normal enough. Without this push/pull relationship, she’s just squeaking to herself. She needs the unease so she can push through it.
[7]