THE GROOVE MONDAY MADE: A LEGEND IN THE UNDERTOW OF OBSCURITY
by Wesley Chu
http://www.popmatters.com/music/interviews/michiru-monday-
021226.shtml


"I am a mere pebble."

As a premier model in the contemporary groove scene who has informed
the soul dialect with the global accents of civic cosmopolitanism
and worldly savoir faire and the jazz idiom with transgressive
definitions on manner and tradition, she has revealed a mural of a
muse who concertedly charters earthy soul and funk, classic jazz,
and nu jazz hues in a swirl as colorfully cant as a Wassily
Kandinsky canvas and concretely confident as a Ogiwara Morie
construct.

If Monday Michiru is ever a pebble, she is a big one.

With a solo recording career recently eclipsing a decade young,
Monday (named after the day on which she was born) has held the
master plan behind an imposing catalogue of inimitable studio
albums, with a towering triumvirate (1996's Delicious Poison, 1999's
Optimista, 2000's 4 Seasons) impressed upon the close of the '90s.
Seemingly guided by the auteur theory, she is the consummate artist-
and one time model, radio DJ, and award winning actress-handling
duties all across the board: performance (vocals, spoken word,
flute), composition, arrangement, production, and programming with
equal adept. As a vocalist she has convincingly solidified her place
in the vocalists' lineage with a voice possessing the technical
operatic exploits of Minnie Riperton and the uniquely especial
sensitivity of Ann Sally, while her compositional chops boast an
intensely inspiring command of the most complex of song archetypes --
it is, in fact, more than anything, her compositional might that
sets her on a cloud high above her peers. Yet these artistic
capacities appear not as vanity descriptors but as plain testament
to this individual's spanning virtuosity. Such wide-reaching fluency
has afforded Monday clearer waters to explore the cosmos of her
eclectic soul, uninhibited by technical snags or clumsy elocution,
for sounds that play in between the lines, in and around stylistic
boundaries. Not just any rock in the pond. She is footing for the
complaisant tancho koi-flailing tail ends, fanning fins, flashy
faces and all-that litter the music pool.

As a one-off deal with Sony Japan surfaces, the born in Tokyo, now
New York resident Monday Michiru returns from a brief maternity
leave, twin "best of" compilation albums, and a mix disc by Chari
Chari with Episodes in Color, her ninth studio offering set to
inspirit the season. But the arrival of Nikita, Monday's first child
with husband and jazz trumpet extraordinaire Alex Sipiagin in
November 2000, seemed to have immediate designs over the direction
of the new album.

"I had a pow-wow with the head of my management/production company,
and he had a vision that I should go deeper into jazz and
that "healing" should be my main concept. I had the idea, especially
being a new mom and all, that I wanted to make an album of music
that you can really chill out to, no energetic bursts or artistic
muscle flexing, something you can listen to with a baby; I'd felt
since Nikita was born that being in the frame of mind and energy
that I was at, and the baby being still so fragile and sensitive,
that there was so little music that I could listen to with him,
other than old ballads and classical music, and I thought it would
be cool to do a modern and original lullabies for adults. So when we
met up with the [Sony] A&R guy, I talked about the lullaby thing
mixed with the healing concept, and he was of course a little
skeptical," she explains.

Surprisingly, the follow-up to Monday's forward-thinking 4 Seasons
could well have been a tome of lullabies-an unlikely and surprising
consideration from such a consistently exhilarating artist. Yet, as
she politely excuses herself from conversation on a number of
occasions to tend to Nikita's clamoring for mother's attention, it
becomes apparent motherhood is a pleasure ("as a mother, I barely
have time to brush my teeth!") consumed wholeheartedly -- this is
only the second time since her Polydor contract that she has taken
nearly two years in between original studio album releases, a long
sabbatical for an artist accustomed to an album a year pace. Monday
did, however, keep creative muscles busy with outside work: a
contribution to K.'s 2001 album, and collaborations with bird,
Angel, and Yas-Yaz that will see release this year. All the while,
Monday, a health-wise cook certain to impart the same for her son,
fed her literary appetite with Super Food for Babies.

Expect no shimmering music boxes or saccharine rhymes on Episodes in
Color. Circumstances changed things. "Then 9/11 happened," continues
Monday. "By the time I started writing for my album, Nikita was
older and already starting to learn to "dance" so my need to make
lullabies was gone. And in all reality, 9/11 just put things into
focus-man, we don't know when we're going to disappear from the face
of this earth. Let's get real.

"So I just wrote from the heart, just from where I was at, me, now.
And that's the concept. Musically, it's organic. There's
nothing "new" per se in terms of musical style, but for me the music
is the most challenged I've written to date, although I also see I
have far to go still."

As much as Shéna Ringö defied the commonly dulling affect of
motherhood on the artist blade with an excursion into poly-cultural
immersion, Monday will play with her oceanic depth and seemingly
indefectible track record to elevate Episodes in Color, which was
produced under a budgetary constraint, to a plateau on par with the
implausibly high benchmark set by the magnum opus of 4 Seasons.

"The new album follows in the footsteps of 4 Seasons on the organic
and jazzy tip. Simpler sound production, consistency and flow of
sound as I use the same musicians, production/arrangement team
(myself and my husband, Alex), engineer, and studios. It is more
mellow than in my earlier releases, and I believe it has matured
somewhat in content and writing-dare I say such a thing," Monday
shares in her commonly unassuming manner. "Up until recently, I
flirted with different styles and sounds because it was fun; I was
curious; I was still searching; and I was open. I am still curious,
still searching, and open, but I've slowly honed in on what I truly
like, what I want to stand for, and am less inclined to work with
underground club-oriented sound makers as I had in the past just
because I've moved away from club music and don't DJ anymore; and
it's not as important to me as it was then. I suppose in the past I
was conscious of coming out "new" each time, from a different
perspective than from the last work. Part of me didn't like to be
pegged or pigeonholed into a certain style and I liked to be a
chameleon with the styles of music. To me, the true music lied in
the songwriting, singing, and lyrics, and the styles that I chose to
play around with is just the exterior. It's like the songwriting and
the singing were the naked me, and the arrangements and styles were
just the outer clothing and makeup. Take off the clothing and makeup
and the naked self always remains."

It is true the musical brushes fly in from all over: the '90s Aoyama
club inflections of Maiden Japan to the Brazilian-tinted acid jazz
of Jazz Brat to the classic soul imbued funk-jazz of Delicious
Poison to the electronically clubby Double Image to the deep in-the-
pocket Latin propulsion of Optimista to the zealous nu jazz of 4
Seasons. And however mindful Monday's attempt to spring anew with
each album the results are sincerely inspired and wholly successful
artistic visions fluent in traditional and contemporary groove
vocabulary.

Episodes in Color will serve as a further traverse away from the
eternally hip acid jazz dimensions of the Gilles Peterson (a
supporter of Monday since inception) landscape, which Monday insists
has little to do with the absence of former boyfriend (of three
years) and musical collaborator Osawa Shinichi or the presence of
her husband Alex Sipiagin. It will be her subtlest stylistic
transition as she further befriends the singular mode set by 4
Seasons.

It will be a monumental feat to trek upward when it seems a sort of
summit has already been reached, but as Monday explains, the point
of meridian is never near: "I'll be honest-yes, there is a point
that I think, "what if I make a total dud compared to the last one,"
but I never think that what I've made is the best that I can do in
the future. I believe I am still growing as a person and as a
musician and certainly as a singer, and as long as I am capable of
expressing that growth, I hope I come up with stronger stuff as I
go."

For this stuff, the process began in November of last year with Dave
Darlington as engineer and Monday, as usual, in the producer's
chair. Yet, as of early January she had yet to complete a single
song. " . . . So I was really panicking as the recording was to
begin the 6th of January, but somehow I made it into home base, and
surprisingly the recording went without a hitch. We were fairly
organized; I didn't waste time with anything; my engineer is
ridiculously on it. [There were] talented musicians who got it like
yesterday [and the] charts were in order-I was really lucky. We
recorded off and on and mastered on February 12," she says of the
situation.

Additional aid comes by way of her husband Alex, whom she met at the
Newport Jazz Festival in Madarao (Nagano, Japan) in the summer of
1999 and married just five months afterwards, three days after
Christmas, in a small wedding at New York's City Hall where about
twelve of their closest family and friends gathered. Sasha, as
Monday lovingly calls him, resumes role as horns and strings
arranger, as on 4 Seasons (the couple's first collaboration), and
acts as co-producer. He is also responsible for the words to be seen
on the album cover. "He was the one who came up with the idea for
the title of the album: he commented that the tunes had more "color"
than my previous compositions," says Monday. Alex has lent his
playing to a Sakamoto Ryuichi album; such an illustrious claim
certainly gives, at the least, weight to his words. Monday
adds, " . . . His insights definitely helped me to shape the music.
He doesn't mince words on his criticism; and his honesty, as blunt
as they can be sometimes, makes me challenge myself to the utmost. I
feel like I can't slack off." Not that she would.

* * * *

Monday is unduly generous with her time, having obliged in
conversation for hours-and shines a textured personality: she
reveals she has a quick temper; she explains some label execs in
Japan consider her a bitch, because her Western tendencies conflict
with their customs; she was an avid Law & Order viewer when the
economics of time were in her favor; she hides her thumbs inside her
clenched fist so to prevent her parents from death, a Japanese
superstition; her first kiss came at fifteen and her first love
showed at 20; and only reluctantly does she confess to purchasing
the Alicia Keys' album.

But she is more than the celebratory, euphonious songbird refracted
by her work. There is a counterpoint to the relentless optimism and
hope of her poetry, a complexity akin to her work.

As an alpha element in this halcyon period in the contemporary
groove sphere, a golden age of groove, who along with the Compost
Record collective, West London innovators, and Japanese underground
galvanized the present day jazz reality to a refreshing vitality and
fervid excitement recalling the '50s jazz age of innovation and
spirituality, Monday's arrival as luminary has beginnings in
innocent circumstances.

It's hardly relevant to mention her parents are jazz greats Akiyoshi
Toshiko and Charlie Mariano, but it sets up a story. Under her
mother's wing, Monday made her recording debut at the age of twelve
as a voice in her mother's 1976 recording Insights. "It was exciting
to be in the studio, and I meant to do better, but she tricked me!
She told me that it was a practice take and that the next one would
be the real take, but after the practice take, she said, 'That's it!
You're finished.' She never gave me another chance. I got a box of
chocolates for my pay," Monday recalls.

A multi-cultural upbringing from parents of Japanese and Italian
heritage-and a childhood that shared time in America and Japan-
eventually ended in a divorce while Monday was still a kid, but
family separation and relative financial straights never translated
into a problematic child. Toshiko and Charlie were fun loving,
strict parents and Monday was obedient for her age. She did attempt
her first puff at nineteen (because she desired acceptance from a
certain group of people), but had to hold back the need to cough to
come off natural. "I'm glad [my mom] was as strict as she was with
me. I was scared to death of her! Otherwise I'd been in more trouble
I'm sure," says Monday, an only child with four half sisters.

She grew up listening to Top 40 radio -- cites Police's
Synchronicity and Stevie Wonder's Secret Garden of Life as
favorites -- and was surrounded by the subculture of her parents'
jazz life. With famous and respected musicians as parents (mother,
father, and step father are all successful jazz artists), it is no
wonder they would imprint a certain dose of brilliance onto Monday,
who might just nurture one of the world's most inconceivably gifted
households if baby Nikita decides to follow the family history and
continue a building legacy where all involved are gripped by the
spirit of jazz. "They say if you have a piano around since babyhood
and if you listen and play with it often, by five you have a good
chance of getting perfect pitch. Too bad we don't have an acoustic
piano in the house for our son," exclaims Monday, or Nikita could,
perhaps, be the next Makoto Ozone.

* * * *

Monday picked up her first instrument, a harmonica, when she was
six; the recorder followed, but she settled on the flute at 11.
Relying on her inborn ability, she practiced only half an hour to an
hour a day; all the while making permanent, not perfect, as she
believed. By 12 or 13 she realized the idea of music as work was
just her fit.

The process to realization was a gradual fruition. After spending
the first two years of elementary school in New York and moving to
Los Angeles in fourth grade, Monday transferred to Michigan's
Interlochen Center for the Arts, the nation's first independent high
school dedicated to the arts. She subsequently failed to garner a
full scholarship from the University in mind, and figured to re-
audition after a year of dedicated practice. Having envisioned a
future as a classical flautist, Monday's dreams later had to be
reconsidered: " . . . Somewhere along the way I lost my drive and by
the time the auditions were on, I had gotten into a car accident two
weeks before and lost two of my lower teeth, which meant I couldn't
practice during that time, and totally failed my auditions."

Fright set in. "After I realized that I wasn't going to be a
classical flautist as I'd envisioned all my life, I was scared that
that would mean that I wouldn't be a musician either and I had no
idea what to do," she remembers.

Fright transmuted into a lull as a secretary and assistant
("glorified secretaries") for six years. Monday reasoned with
herself: " . . . At one point I thought if all else failed at least
I had [this] to fall back on and it's not so bad. I learned what was
important in life, that being a good person is important, that how
you interact with people in your life is perhaps more important and
may effect more people than what I'd do musically; and that it was
alright, whatever happened, happened." An impossibly peculiar
thought process considering her confident standing today.

However, the lull eventually rendered an opportunity: in 1987 she
was scouted for the lead role in the film Hikaru Onna, which
prompted a move to Japan and garnered her the Best Newcomer award at
the 11th Japanese Academy Awards. A proliferation of movie, TV
(including an MC event for Sakamoto Ryuichi in 1989), CF, and DJ
offers arose and Monday accepted, shuffling such duties until 1994
where she appeared on a TV Asahi drama and hosted a FM Osaka program
for the last time. The airwaves and celluloid did not serve her
purpose.

After a steady run of jobs Monday retrained her focus on the aural
expression-having had the strong support of soul singer Bernard
Ighner ("even though I called upon neighborhood dogs if I sang")
during a stay in L.A. back in '82. Also sensing it too late to pick
up another instrument she concluded, "Singing was going to be how I
would get there." Under the name of Michiru Akiyoshi she released
her debut solo recording Mangetsu in 1991 for Virgin Japan. But it
was inclusion in the 1994 Mo Wax Royalties Overdue compilation
alongside other abstract hip-hop movers that set Monday's music mind
in motion.

* * * *

From the onset, Monday pulled in the big, revered names from the
jazz and urban circles. Her debut recording benefited from the
swinging playing of former Art Blakey's Jazz Messenger Bobby Watson,
Miles Davis alto-saxophonist Kenny Garret, and the exceptional
stylings of her veritably legendary pianist mother and sax/flute
blowing stepfather, while the underground, old school rap
touchstones of MC Muro and the DJ Krush Posse lent their voice --
her biological father later contributed his sax sound to Monday's
best selling album, Double Image.

The collaborators have become ever more momentous, noteworthy
pairings presenting distinguished productions seething on
contemporary groove scenes from the Oslo Underground to London to
New York and back to Japan. It would be rash to credit her
connections with the potential ease in asking her parents for their
Rolodex. "I just try not to use the fact that I am their daughter as
a free pass to be able to work with anyone. I feel that I have to
earn it and always feel blessed to work with all the people I have,"
Monday points out.

If anything, she has more to prove. "I don't believe it's worked
against me at all, it only adds to this notion that I'm going to be
talented and have a genetic imprint on the truth to music, which of
course has nothing to do with it because I'm just trying to figure
it out like the next Joe. I remember my mother and I were walking
around Harajuku looking for a jazz club-this was over 10 years ago
when I was more known as an actress and my mother would joke that
now she's known as Michiru Akiyoshi's mother by the younger
generation-and we were approached by this young woman, mid-late 20s,
who asked, 'Are you Akiyoshi-san?' I assumed she was talking to me
because she was the generation of people who normally is associated
as being my audience, but it turned out she was referring to my
mother, and she gushed, 'I'm a huge fan!'"

Now, with an storied passage on course to equal the legend of her
mother and a commercial standing, albeit modest, enough to provide
for a BMW X-5 midst the parking lot stiffing of New York, Monday
emerges an artist in her own skin-regardless if others fail to
disassociate her from her parents. But much like her mother, she
still faces lingering distortions and deviations from the cultural
preconceptions tacked onto notions of jazz authenticity. Just as
Diana Krall and Jamiroquai play against the tides of such absurdly
farcical perceptions, Monday and her fellow Asian jazzers must face
the question imposed by a minority rabble: Can Ivory swing? With
Monday as one such exemplar, they obviously can.

"I have seen it affect my mother, who still struggles today to be
respected for what she has contributed in jazz. I think she has deep-
rooted resentment towards those who see jazz through the color of
the skin as opposed to the color of the soul, and I really respect
the integrity she has always had in focusing on the music, no matter
what the odds were against her.

"The matter of authenticity has affected me and still affects me to
this day, although the person I have to answer to the most is myself
and I always question what I define as being authentic or not and
try to address it the best I can, to be true to myself."

* * * *

Although, thankfully, free of the extremes that often plague great
minds -- unfamiliar with the radical route of overdose that consumed
Kaoru Abe and separate from the growing consumerism that values skin
over substance, intrigue over social discourse -- Monday met the new
century with a disappointing dovetail to 4 Seasons; a label dispute
was in plain view. "I had a problem with Polydor towards the end
because they were definitely looking for another "You Make Me" which
was a big success for them in sales [22,810 copies], but I wasn't
interest in duplicating the same ol' tired shit. Let someone else do
that. I also had a huge fight with my A&R guy in the Spring portion
of 4 Seasons and had him fired from my project, which didn't sit too
well with the Polydor gang -- he lied to me big time and pretended
it was a mistake. And because I wasn't willing to play the game,
they decided to play games with me, which in the long run was stupid
on their part because they sabotaged sales on an album they put up
money on-'hello.' Whatever." The resulting effect: Monday's lowest
sales numbers for her most ambitious and accomplished album.

Perhaps there, the reason certain suited execs paint her a bitch:
she will not stand to be wronged. Just as much, Monday's socially
observant, thematically fresh lyrics speak of and against the wrongs
in every waking life. She rhymes comfortably upfront on the inertia
of Japan's societal topos and intones in a universally cosmic
parlance on the handicaps of racial exclusion in an openhearted
manner and tone, minus the exhausted sensationalism that the
majority would normally discredit as mere high-flown oratory. There
is a wisdom she's acquired and parlays into her songs, as
on "Mysteries of Life," a descant of a personal lesson: "The kind of
life that I've learned/is better than the life I was taught/and over
the years I've grown/into unknown/mysteries of life."

"I saw a movie, an old one from the '40s or '50s, where an old guy
was saying to another, 'the kind of life I've learned is better than
the life I was taught,' and I thought that was so true," Monday
explains of the lyrical origins. "I think we all feel that it's the
experience of life that ultimately teaches you best about life, not
what others try and impress upon you by telling you about it, and
I've always been one to shun others' advice and preferred to learn
by myself. My mother did not impress too strongly on me the
traditional Japanese values, although she was very strict with me
and taught me manners and general good social behavior which is
rooted in Japanese customs . . . In the end, I learned most through
my parents by their actions and how they lived their lives, not by
what they told me."

* * * *

Pocket bells dangling from the wrists of Tokyoite youths play to the
ring tones of the latest Morning Musume and Utada Hikaru confections
as exquisitely expansive TV screens on the face of Shibuya 109 and Q
FRONT shine with the mellifluous district streets plugging the
newest Hamasaki Ayumi sponsored Tuka phone and marvel with the
hipper-and-hotter-than-James Dean conglomerate of Kimura Takuya; all
the while, the stylish Tsutaya wraps itself with spanning displays
of the latest offerings from Spitz and wyolica. This is what Monday
Michiru does not have: Exposure.

Although the Jazzu Kissa shops that marble the street sides of
Japan's stylish metropolises will place Monday records as a charter
member in their discerning playlists, she remains mostly unknown in
popular circles. Monday is to present times as Rotary Connection was
to Chicago in the '60s -- too few knew of that hidden treasure and
too few know of this one. Clearly without the deliberately
derivative demands of club fare, nor with the inanely antiquated
Marsalis -- conventions elemental of traditional jazz outlets,
Monday left for the underground, only to leave it soon after for a
groove all her own.

The groove Monday made has resulted in prodigious collaborations
with established names: the experimental wits (Bill Laswell, Yas-
Kaz), the acid jazz family (Mondo Grosso, United Future
Organization), the classic jazzers (Mingus Big Band, Airto), the
electronic dance lot (Basement Jaxx, Masters at Work), and the hip-
hop mob (DJ Krush, The Angel). An obvious array of admiration and
respect comes from all corners, yet she remains doubtful, somewhat
understandably, of acceptance in the largely conformist, black and
white (literally), mainstream-driven American market.

"Would they want me?" asks Monday, as if any sound suit could
dismiss her. She recalls a time when she was still open to the
idea. "America is just so vast and the people are so aggressive in
the business. I remember back in '96 I tried to approach Verve in
New York about just licensing my stuff for release as we were with
the same parent company and they had shown interest in my stuff back
in '94, but the guy just totally shunned me. At the meeting, he had
this real blasé attitude, but when he looked at my bio and list of
people I'd worked with, his eyebrows raised and [he] said, 'Really?
You've worked with these people?' But then just sort of fluffed me
off in so many words. I finally got insulted by his attitude towards
me and the Leo in me roared, hissing, 'I'm the shit and you don't
even know it.' He got really excited then, and almost spit on
himself, 'That's the attitude you should have coming into this
meeting!!' At that point I thought, fuck it, if that's what it takes
to get something released in America, where you have to be in
someone's face and be totally aggressive and ugly in your heart,
man, I don't want anything to do with it. It's all such a game and
it's not where I want to be."

So there it is. Monday knows it. She is, indeed, very much an artist
of and for our time. While she may never admit to it under normal
circumstances, it is comforting to know she isn't wholly oblivious
to her blooming genius. Yet, in keeping with her character, her
humble self would never allow her such consideration.

When asked to evaluate herself, Monday shows a familiar face of
grace, with a remark to the side. "Oh, I don't know, that's such an
awkward question. I'm generally a split personality type. On one
hand I'm shy yet I'm outgoing and show-offy; I'm Japanese but I'm
American; I'm hip and I'm tacky; I'm tough yet I'm sensitive; I'm
talented and I don't know shit; I've got it goin' on and I don't got
shit; I'm old-fashioned and I love the avant-garde; I love jazz and
classical, yet I love raunchy funk and a killer groove -- what else
is there to say than I'm a bag of mixed up goods." Said in humor,
yet all true.

* * * *

And with all her humility it does seem more truth would never go to
her head. Thus, those familiar with her art -- and unhampered by
self-modesty -- have some candid words to share with Monday and the
world.

Arisaka Mika (Loop Junktion) informs that Monday "is definitely one
of the bests . . . . She is a complete artist, a creator. She is way
too sophisticated, and talented to be categorized just as a vocalist
or a performer. I believe she will be recognized as an female artist
icon in near future." Expectedly, Monday shoots back with a
deprecating reply: "Man, Mika must have been on dope or something.
How nice of her, really."

The schools of academia think much the same, of Monday.

E. Taylor Atkins, Assistant Professor in the Department of History
at Northern Illinois University and author of the landmark Blue
Nippon book, a thorough account of Jazz in Japan, equates Monday as
a vocalist of "amazing range, flexibility, melismatic dexterity,
textural variety, and expressive capacity" possessing "skillful
[phrasing that] rides the complex rhythms and melodies well. Monday
is every bit a iconoclastic as [Cassandra] Wilson and [Norah] Jones,
in that she puts together combinations of sounds that are not
readily recognizable."

Elucidating on this observation is Robin Eubanks, professional jazz
trombonist and Assistant Professor at Oberlin Conservatory. On the
distant parallel to Wilson and Jones, Eubanks revises, "She covers
much more ground than any of them." While mentions of Jill Scott,
Alicia Keys, Indie Arie, and the soul revival flock, meets with this
remark: "She has more depth and breadth, in my opinion . . . and her
musical scope definitely surpasses the others . . . I hope I get a
chance to do some work with her sometime."

Thom Jurek, Rolling Stone and Spin contributor, adduces a final
assessment. With words to take to heart, he asserts, "As a singer,
lyricist, and even as an arranger, she moves me like no one else
currently does . . . a more poetic voice doesn't exist currently."

Pebble or legend-to-be, one thing is certain: she is a demigod to
the medium. "I love music purely for what it is, what it offers to
me. As I told one person centuries ago, music is my God, and it
still rings true to me today."


=

Yas-Kaz [Traditional/Ambient Japanese Percussionist]
She is a wonderful person . . .and I respect her as an artist and
friend very much. But I never told her how I feel. Oh my Buddha!

The Angel [Trip-Hop Producer/DJ]
Monday is extremely generous . . . I can hardly remember a time when
she didn't turn up with some kind of lovely gift, even for no
particular occasion. My favorite thing was when she went out of her
way to hunt down some pomegranate juice for me.

Leslie Shill [KAZU Monterey Bay Radio DJ]
One of the many things I love about Monday Michiru is that she
understands the syncopation, dynamics, and sensibilities of the most
current forms of groove-ology and yet she has a voice and vocal
ability that can stand with many far more famous performers on an
equal footing. . . . She deserves to be recognized for what she is,
a highly original talent in the truest and deepest sense of the word
talent. Any artist that has the ability to transcend the boundaries
of genre, who can assimilate, combine, and re-order to a finer
degree the vagaries of modern music and who can still sound like
themselves is a rare kind of cat.

Self
:. Full Name: Monday Michiru Sipiaguine
:. Place of Birth: Tokyo, Japan
:. DOB: 63.08.19
:. Nationality: Half Japanese & half Italian
:. Height: 5' 5"
:. Weight: 114 lbs
:. Blood: AB+
:. Zodiac Sign: Leo

Favorites
:. Favorite Japanese Artists: Ajico, Chari Chari (Inoue Kaori),
Mondo Grosso, Muro, Lisa Ono, Purple Noon, Silent Poets, UA, United
Future Organization
:. Favorite Artists
:. 1. Maya Angelou
:. 2. Stevie Wonder
:. 3. Salvador Dali
:. 4. Sarah Vaughn
:. 5. Richard Bach
:. Favorite Cartoon: Felix the Cat
:. Favorite Movie: The Red Shoe
:. Fave TV Show: Six Feet Under
:. Favorite Color: Orange, Maroon
:. Fave Places: Bali, Maui

Personal
:. Alcohol: Yes, red wine
:. Smoke: No
:. Favorite drinks: Water, Constant Comment
:. Personal Car: X-5 BMW
:. Dream car: Old Porsche model
:. Pets: No
:. Bad habits: Quick temper
:. Pen or Pencil: Pen (no ballpoint)
:. Soul or Jazz: Jazz
:. Acid Jazz or Jazz: Jazz
:. Health food or junk food: Health
:. Vanilla or Chocolate: Vanilla
:. Morning Brew: Green tea, Constant Comment
:. Fashion: Casual--t-shirt & jeans
:. Last time you cried from joy: Birth of Nikita
:. Best Memory: Birth of Nikita
:. Best Christmas Gift: Not really any
:. Worst Christmas Gift: Real fox coat from mom