To follow up on the success of their 1996 food-themed debut, Viva! La Woman, Japanese girl-duo Cibo Matto could have stuck to their tried-and-true recipe and written songs about something equally cute, like their favorite beverages or something. But in the midst of unveiling material from their hours-old album Stereo Type A at New York's Bowery Ballroom, singer Miho Hatori made a declaration. "For a while now, we've been sort of known as a ... food band. F--- that!"

And so, after three years, Hatori and keyboardist/producer Yuka Honda officially laid that oh-so-1996 phase of their identity to rest. Replacing their trademark drum machine/sampler/keyboard setup with a lineup that included Sean Lennon on bass, downtown jazz luminary Marc Ribot on guitar, two percussionists and a trumpet/trombone horn section, Cibo Matto now seems to be more of a musical collective. Leaving behind the bare-bones approach of Viva! may have expanded their sonic palette exponentially, but in the course of the evening's performance it also proved to be a transition that might take some time to gel.

The band started off a bit shaky with the two-part "Sunday," an unlikely hip-hop/waltz hybrid that made for an awkward opener. It did, however, serve as an ideal introduction to Hatori's newfound lyrical introspection. In "Part I" she turned confessional over a ruined relationship, singing "Why do I feel so lonely / I don't know how to compromise," between raucous shouts of "5-4-3-2-1! 5-4-3-2-1!" As the band segued into the string-laden "Part II," the crowd swayed in rapt attention, savoring the future favorites for the first time.

Two old favorites, Viva!'s quirky cover of "The Candy Man" and Stereotype's re-worked version of a "Spoon" (culled from the band's 1997 Super Relax EP), roused the crowd from their head-bobbing reverie. Songs from the new album, though, more than held their own next to the familiar. With frequent and catchy punctuation from the tight horn section, standouts like the Earth, Wind & Fire-meets-Portishead "King of Silence" and the Lounge Lizards-esque "Speechless" undoubtedly provided a mental soundtrack for many a morning commute the next day. And the percolating, carnivalesque keyboards and airy vocals of "Working for Vacation" connected as well, despite Hatori's difficulties with the chorus' tricky, Bollywood-inspired melody.

But it wasn't until a rowdy rendition of "Beef Jerky" that the band was able to fully free themselves from opening-night jitters. And the band's most jarring break from its past, the cathartic, heavy-metal "Blue Train" cemented a sense of communal groove into place for good. From then on, Cibo Matto & friends were in their pan-genre, celebratory element, whipping up a siren-sampling, bracingly chaotic take of "Know Your Chicken" before slipping into Stereo's gorgeous, Brazilian-flavored ballad "Moonchild" with a level of self-assurance that will surely increase as they further road-test these new songs. Ending the night on a properly tattered note, the band turned their Beastie-like new single "Sci-Fi Wasabi" into a Parliament-style freakout, with percussionist Duma Love stepping out to trade rapid-fire rhymes with Hatori amidst the improvisation-enhanced din.

By show's end, Cibo Matto had given the crowd a few glimpses of the kind of performance they are capable of delivering -- liberating, risk-taking and refreshingly pretension-free. Though it would have been more than enough to send the crowd home satisfied, Cibo Matto owed their appeal that night to morethan just their smorgasbord of delicious sound. Live, they generate a sincere and fun-loving vibe like few others can. And, food band or not, that's enough to whet anyone's appetite for more.

CHRISTOPHER SHORES
(June 29, 1999)