Courtesy of Smash

But the pair is a study in contrasts—terms like “chillwave” and “glo-fi” only take you so far. Where Washed Out revels in 80s UK synth-pop, Neon Indian prefers leftfield analog synth sounds. When Greene raises his voice in open emotion, Palomo mumbles words that are sly, abstruse and humorous.

What they do seem to have in common is a knack for repurposing old school synthesizers to craft contemporary indie pop songs. Neon Indian’s simple, spangley “Polish Girls” from last fall’s Era Extraña shows why he’s endeared himself to acts like Flaming Lips, who released an EP together with him, and Massive Attack, who invited him to back them on tour.

Neon Indian and Washed Out’s other point of commonality is both being represented by Japanese imprint Big Nothing Records, which also handles hip indie groups like Girls and Islet in Japan.

The success of Texas-born Palomo’s one-off Japan debut should provide sufficient indication of whether he’ll be invited to join the bill of promoter Smash’s Fuji Rock Festival this summer.

Unit, Feb 21 (listing).

Hot; Sebastian Piras. Courtesy of Hiromart Gallery

Hiromart Gallery, until Mar 4 (listing).

Courtesy of Billboard Live

Billboard Live, Feb 13-15 (listing).

Courtesy of PARC

Hakobune (access info provided with reservation), Feb 10-26 (listing).

Beer Jockey (The Father of Pottery); Simon Fujiwara, 2011. © Simon Fujiwara Courtesy of TARO NASU and NEUE ALTE BRÜCKE

Mori Arts Center Gallery, Feb 25-26 (listing).

© Valerie Simmons

Kanagawa Arts Theater, Feb 16 (listing).

Courtesy of Creativeman

Tokyo Club Quattro, Feb 21 (listing).

Courtesy of Africaemo

Tokyo’s Africaemo are so much more fun and energetic. “Just to do Afrobeat would be boring, so we thought to bring in a completely different genre like emo rock would be an interesting clash of concepts,” explains keyboardist Yuki Abe at a café, ahead of a Shimokitazawa gig. “Our songs are poppy and catchy, but the music has a rhythmic, arty quality.”

Later on at Club Que, the gig lives up to the promise of its deliciously danceable “City Boy, City Girl” from last year’s album Power Of The City. A couple hundred hipsters are bopping around as frontman “George” unleashes his shouty raps and Abe and guitarist Tetsuro Imanaka trade up-tempo riffs.

But Africaemo wasn’t always this much fun. When it started out in 2007, George was still inflicting his depressive nature on audiences, and their sound was more along geeky, post-rock lines.

“I used to see everything in negative terms,” he says. “Our very first song ‘Bird’ is about striving for satisfaction but falling short. History is made up of ego piled upon ego, which to me is a bummer. The track is fun for people to sing along to, but really the meaning is not fun to me. Still, I’m happy with however people interpret it.”

Several years of hard touring led the trio—which fleshes out its live performance with a rhythm section—to transform its approach. “At first we were pretty introverted, but after our first tour we became more of a party band,” remembers guitarist Imanaka. “Sometimes there were full houses, sometimes empty. We wanted a lively set that would be fun to play even when there weren’t many customers in the house.”

“The worst show was Niigata,” chips in Abe from across the table. “There were only one or two people in the audience. But it was a learning experience. When you have a full house it’s easy to get the crowd going, but you have to be able to work a small crowd too.”

Despite having played the Fuji Rock Festival, the three members of Africaemo, who cite everything from Drake to DFA to Yura Yura Teikoku as influences, aver that their peak moment so far was hosting their own event at Nakano dive Heavy Sick.

“We’d played Fuji Rock’s Rookie stage the year before and thought that by doing our own event we could get a better sense of what we want to do ourselves,” says Abe. “We’ve learned a lot about creating a good atmosphere. Recently we’ve been doing it at Womb.”

Africaemo prides itself on having both a live set and a mobile DJ set, for the clubs. “The interesting thing about the Tokyo music scene,” Abe states, “is being able to work with so many track makers and remixers—that’s something that we could only do in a scene as big as Tokyo’s.”

And with that, it’s off to prepare for tonight’s show. “One bottle of wine per performance is my golden rule,” says George with an evil grin. “It puts me in the right frame of mind. Our music is made for drinking, and we like to get in the mood with our audience.”

Shimokitazawa Reg, Feb 11 (listing). www.africaemo.com

Courtesy of Hostess

“Yeah it was good,” she allows sleepily. “It’s nice to be appreciated for what you do. They choose someone from each country, someone who has done well in Europe.” For the record, Calvi didn’t receive any cash from the EU-sponsored awards, but—like previous winner Adele—only a “small statue with stars on it.”

For what reason did the EU recognize her for crossing borders? “I think my music isn’t particularly English sounding,” she offers. “My influences are quite wide and not specifically English. Perhaps that’s why it’s resonated in other countries.”

With the psychedelic darkness of a Nick Cave song or David Lynch soundtrack, Calvi’s sound bears little in common with the Amy Winehouse/Adele brand of neo soul currently dominating the charts. That didn’t stop her from being nominated for a Mercury Music Prize, BRIT Award, or being named one to watch in BBC’s Sound of 2011 poll.

“I grew up listening to my father’s record collection,” she explains. “There was a lot of Captain Beefheart and all these ’60s bands as well as classical and jazz like Django Reinhardt. I also fell in love with composers like Debussy and Ravel. I had a very wide spectrum of music that I’d listen to, but I didn’t feel like I was weird or anything.”

Born with two dislocated hips, Calvi was in and out of hospitals for the first years of her life. “I had to have lots of operations to try to correct that,” she recalls. “The way that children deal with stress is to get lost in their imagination, which is something I did a lot and continue to do. It’s an essential part of being a creative person—I taught myself guitar from age eight and just got obsessed and lost in it.”

When she sings, “It’s just the devil in me,” on “Desire,” from last year’s eponymous debut, it’s hard not to get lost oneself in Calvi’s lush musical world. But it’s not difficult to fathom why legendary producer Brian Eno chose to work with her and called her the biggest thing since Patti Smith.

However, Calvi is somewhat reticent when talking about her songs. “There weren’t any specific experiences—it’s not like I had a break-up and then wrote a song,” she says, when asked what informed the creation of her album. “I really wanted to tell the story of the songs through the music and not just the lyrics, to create an atmosphere for each song, as if it were a film. I wanted to make it passionate—that was my main idea for the album.”

Calvi’s sense of theater extends from the music to her bold fashion statements and the lush visuals that accompany her videos. “I wanted to express the passion in my music,” she continues, “which is why I dress in flamenco fashion. I really love the music and wanted to capture that sense of drama.”

The petite singer makes her Japan debut next week at posh Roppongi supper club Billboard Live. This is followed by an appearance at the new Hostess Club Weekender indie rock showcase, where she’ll be performing alongside the likes of Spiritualized and Atlas Sound.

Are people around her concerned about her coming to Japan? “Concerned? About what?” she asks. Seems like Fukushima may have fallen off the international radar. “It’s my first time to Japan,” she says, brushing off the gloom-and-doom. “I’m really excited because I’ve always wanted to go there. It should be cool.”

Billboard Live, Feb 17 (listing) and Hostess Club Weekender, Feb 19 (listing).

Owl Spot, until Feb 5 (listing).

Courtesy of Creativeman

Pacifico Yokohama, Feb 9; Zepp Tokyo, Feb 16; Nippon Budokan, Feb 17 (listing).