Mei Semones Delivers the “Animaru” Cinematic Experience to Austin’s The Parish
Written by Lorenzo dela Cruz | July 22, 2025
photos by Lorenzo dela Crux taken with the Animaru Tour
(from left to right): Noah Leong, Claudius Agrippa, Mei Semones, Noam Tanzer, and Ransom McCafferty
“So we went to Buc-ee’s earlier today… it was awesome, but unfortunately they didn’t have the best swimsuit options…”
This was the first time I had heard even a remotely negative comment from a performer not from Texas about the notorious Buc-ee’s chain. I knew right then and there that Mei Semones and her band were going to be special.
The night opened with Lionmilk (Moki Kawaguchi), an LA-based pianist, composer, and producer who brought his unique DIY style and quasi-comedy set to The Parish that night. His sound could be described as chill electronic jazz, hip-hop, and ambient music—all performed via his electric keyboard, a MIDI controller, and his gentle voice which possessed an airy falsetto as the cherry on top.
lionmilk
One of the first things he asked the crowd was, “Is anybody here heartbroken?” The crowd stood still.
“What, is nobody here in Austin heartbroken at all???”
Finally, someone stage left reluctantly raised their hand.
“This is for YOU!!!” Kawaguchi exclaimed as he pointed in their direction before going straight into “get high,” a fitting name for a heartbreak song.
During his set, he would frequently dive into some insane chord progressions while talking about what was on his mind. Some topics during the glorified—and surprisingly relaxing—yap sesh were: how things were pretty bad in the country at the moment with our “shitty president,” and how life in general is difficult for everyone. After this, Kawaguchi paused, looked up toward the crowd, and said, “You guys wanna hear a little drum and bass?” as he pulled out a small MIDI controller and proceeded to cook up a drum loop, eventually adding his signature keyboard skills into the mix. Throughout, he would spam a subtle alarm sound effect that got the crowd giggling and nodding their heads to the beat. Everyone was in a good mood as they awaited the main act.
mei semones
Before anyone could blink, Mei and her band took the stage—comprised of Noah Leong on the viola, Claudius Agrippa on the violin, Noam Tanzer on the bass, Ransom McCafferty on the drums, and Mei Semones on guitar and vocals—were all ready to begin their first headline show in Austin. The group prepared their chosen tools for war as the crowd looked on with anticipation.
A still silence swept throughout the venue, as every ounce of attention was fixed to the front. Mei began with what I would soon learn to be a signature motif in many of her songs—a sort of riff, or as my little brother coined it when I asked how to accurately describe the greatness I had just witnessed, “a neo-classical-inspired shred.” Whatever the correct term be, Mei’s hand danced over her guitar strings with grace and fluidity as she quickly ascended the scale in the intro of “Tegami.” As the final note rang through the air, the audience was put into a trance, forced to travel with Mei and her band through the ebbs and flows of the musical journey they would share that night. Mei’s delicate vocals sat softly above the plucking of the bass and driving drums, while the violin and viola rounded out the soundscape with their harmonies.
The group’s unique jazz-inspired sound can be attributed to much of their classical upbringing, as well as every member attending the Berklee College of Music.
This formal background was evident in the complexity of the chord progressions and an insane mastery of building tension through swells of sound, much like a wave crashing onto the beach. These swells are deceiving, however, for just as soon as one reaches the peak, suddenly the ocean and its waves empty—leaving just Mei and her guitar, a cemented in the middle. These attributes and flow are common in my favorite songs like “Tegami,” “Animaru,” “Rat with Wings,” and “Kabutomushi.”
Many of the songs performed that night were from the group’s debut album titled Animaru, with older releases and unreleased full Japanese versions of the songs being featured as well. Regardless of the language, each song was a cinematic experience. I overheard someone in the crowd yelling to their friend mid-set that it felt like they were in the middle of La La Land. Another older woman, unfamiliar with Mei, told me as I was taking photos that this was the best musician she had seen in a long time—and according to her, she had seen “a lot of artists over the years.”
There was an innocent beauty that was easy to recognize. Something instinctual is triggered by beautiful music—something wired deep within us to recognize and flock toward beautiful sound, like moths to a light.
As the group concluded with “Kodoku,” the ethereal, floating vibes continued—leaving all with a sort of end-credit song, set in the countryside by the shore, with the sun setting, and the tall grass swaying in the wind. With the song stretching to almost seven minutes long, “Kodoku” truly felt like a short film experience. The band’s signature “world building” was in full display, taking place right before the lyrics:
“Cause I don’t wanna be another thing
that you will forget about…”
...slowly building and building back up into the penultimate:
“I’ll stay…”
...before resolving into a silent, dissonant chord (I’m probably characterizing this incorrectly), leaving the song as one of the most powerful pieces of music that I’ve heard in a while. I felt so full, yet so empty in that moment. Words cannot describe this bittersweet feeling. Well, actually there is one: 孤独 | Kodoku – “loneliness.”
Despite being in a packed room that Saturday, all were left to confront the loneliness that exists in all of us. Mei Semones and her band left Austin with a musical and cinematic masterpiece—an experience that will stay with me for a very long time.
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