The Internet has skewed some of our cultural perspectives, especially thanks to its tendency to foster irony and kitsch well into realms of absurdity. This includes exchanges of bizarre pop entities from foreign nations in such high volumes that they lose a lot of what makes them strange. Take, for instance, the recent development of American perceptions of Japanese culture. At its worst, ironic Japanophilia results in a series of blunt punchlines about anime, vending machines and the inability to differentiate R sounds from L sounds. Of course the whole of modern Japanese culture isn't as broad and simple as that, but the cacophony of the Internet makes us forget that sometimes. So, when an odd bit of pop detritus like "We Are Ninja", the novelty electronic dance hit produced by avant-pop group Frank Chickens in 1984, hits our screens we're quick to dismiss it as just another crazy video from the Far East. Given its time, place and creators, I'd like to argue that "We Are Ninja" is anything but.

Frank Chickens wasn't a goofy novelty act, they were a London-based postmodern art project founded by Kazuko Hohki and Kazumi Taguchi in 1982. The group ran in some form or another for the next twenty years with Hohki at the helm joined by a rotating cast of performers. The group has a pretty impressive pedigree, too. They've shared the bill with the likes of The Smiths and Billy Bragg, contributing rather heavily to the sweeping social reforms of Great Britain in the 1980's. England was a major center for politically conscious music in the 80's and a lot of young voters got their spark from pop artists.

So, how does a cheesy half-rap, half-electronic track like "We Are Ninja" fit into the same category of music that reflected the end of the conservative British parliament under Margaret Thatcher? I think the key to the song is the bizarre lyrical interlude about "Ms. Otemo" and her recent marriage. Beyond the obvious feminist sentiments of the opening line "We are ninja, not geisha", the Otemo bridge is a satire of traditional gender roles and the conservative ideals that support them. I think it's telling that the band decided to subtitle that portion of the song in the official video but not the playful, less meaningful Japanese lyrics of the chorus.

In this sense, Frank Chickens have more in common with Chumbawamba than, say, Happa-Tai. They made not-too-serious pop music promoting serious political topics, which makes perfect sense in the context of the 1980's. Dire, intense music just didn't fly in that era. If you wanted to get your message out, you had to do it with synthesizers and gimmicks. Should "We Are Ninja" be preserved as the rallying anthem for the 1987 Labour Party? Of course not, but that doesn't mean it's not still a surprisingly catchy work of pop art that exemplifies its time and place.

Today, Frank Chickens get little more than Wikipedia stubs and meme-quality Youtube treatments, which is maybe less than a John Peel supported act deserves. But underground art is never really supposed to grab high praise, just a little attention.