Cut the clap.

DISCLAIMER: the title of this entry is not a reference to the myth that Japanese people mix up their "l's" and "r's". "L" doesn't exist in their syllabic alphabet, and the closest thing it has to an "r" only slightly resembles an "l"...anyway...

I’m on a very long holiday right now, and I love it. I have a life beyond public school education and English conversation classes – I can go exploring in Tokyo.

Nestled in between the super-hip neighbourhoods of Harajuku and Shibuya, Yoyogi Park is like the chill out space of a three-room club. It attracts creative individuals looking for a place to do their artistic thing, more often than not, varying degrees of pop group and a near residential tribe of dread-locked percussionists but it also sports jugglers and dancers wielding fans or Santa costumes (depending on the weather).

Yesterday, I discovered in a large concrete boulevard (the starting point for last weeks’ Tokyo Pride March) small pockets of break-dancers. I’ve always found something slightly ludicrous about hip-hop; I simply can't, won't and don't stop. This could be down to a combination of the absolute nonsense some rappers come out with, and bad luck – I’m assured that there is “intelligent” and “right-on” hip-hop out there, but I haven't found enough to convert me. To be fair, my own record collection hardly displays Wildean wit, but lyrical content becomes insignificant when one is witness to the astounding acrobatics on display to the tune of ripped wax.

Back in Kawasaki, itself no stranger to street performers, one such dancer had attracted a crowd of Friday evening shoppers. His backward somersaults were accompanied by a hip-hop soundtrack and the audience doing the unthinkable – there are few things I hate more in the world than rhythmic clapping. The appreciation of a good performance is dulled into shameful silence when one discovers their fellow punters have been reduced to a legion of imbecilic sycophant sea lions.

That’s a rather unkind analogy, reminding me of a trip to the dilapidated dream that is Coney Island, and my first and only attendance to a Sea World style performance. The audience was made up of an elementary school outing and a couple of squadrons of US Marines, clapping the rhythm of a turgid sub-Ibiza house drone, whilst a graceful, beautiful creature of the deep, a sea lion no less, spun round on a back flipper. Our entertainer didn’t clap once, and I was with him on that, although I would have given him a fish had I the chance. Truly, he was a seal of quality.

七夕祭 - Tanabata Matsuri

Princess Orihime (織姫, Weaving Princess) and Prince Hikoboshi (彦星, Cow Herder Star) fell in love and were married. Unfortunately, being Gods, they had a number of responsibilities which, post-nuptially became neglected, and chaos was caused by Hikobashi's wandering cows, whilst Orihime's father Tenkou (天工, Sky King) had no more cloth. In his fury, he demanded that the lovers be separated, but then in a moment of fatherly remorse, he permitted them to see each other once a year on the seventh of July. People in Japan celebrate by writing wishes, usually in the form of poetry, and tying them to a bamboo tree.

The number seven is traditionally a lucky number in Japan. For starters, there are the Seven Gods of Fortune, the custom of eating Nanakusa, or "seven herbs" (Seri (Japanese parsley), Nazuna (shepherd's purse), Gogyou, Hakobera (chickweed), Hotokenoza, Suzuna, Suzushiro) in porridge on January 7th to cure illness, seven sins, seven virtues and let's not forget the Seven Samurai.

All this generally tends to point to the 7th of July 2007 (7.7.07) being a pretty damn auspicious day. Not surprising then that my favourite Japanese band, Boredoms (now recording under the name V∞redoms) are performing a once in a lifetime concert with no less than 77 drummers...


...in New York...which is surprising, but not the nice kind. Feast your eyes on the press release, then weep.

Brass Band Club

Yesterday, I played my trumpet for the first time in a long time, but perhaps more significantly, the first time since I've given up smoking. Clearly my lungs have had plenty of time to recover, and I wasn't as breathless as I thought I would be. Perhaps it's time to get back into music. Finding the right outlet could be tricky though. The only one I've discovered thus far is the school Brass Band club.

Of course, five minutes into the club activity, I remembered why I never go. A word now irrevocably linked to my idea of Japanese education is drilling. Yes, all my teachers over the years have told me that it's really useful to spend ages doing long notes, and by thunder, it'll build your stamina, but where's the fun?

A typical brass band club session will commence with the designated leader announcing what particular warm-up exercise will be played. Everyone responds with "Hai!" which although means "yes" is probably closer to "affirmative". This exercise will be done for a minute or two. At this point, I'm usually raring to play some actual music, but there's more to be had. Much more. In the past, I've joined brass band club sessions where the kids have played long notes and scales for an entire hour...five minutes break...another hour of long notes and scales, thankyou very much, time to go home.

This particular brass band did something I've never seen before - at a command from the leader, every child produced a plastic bag, and started breathing into it whilst the percussion section dutifully beat out an increasing number of beats on a row of desks behind us.

The weirdest thing I've experienced thus far in brass band club is the tuning up process. There's nothing wrong with using an electronic tuner, but they seem to be speaking a foreign language (in terms of the music vocabulary I was raised with) when they hold a beeping box in front of my instrument and declare "plus four" as opposed to "sharp" or "flat."

Although music is something I want to get back into, I'm faced with the choice between intense study of Japanese (at a desk and everything) and playing long notes for two hours...what to do...

Christmas & New Year

The day before her departure from Japan, whilst repeatedly kicking me, my sister said
"This time tomorrow, you'll be wishing I was here doing this."
The infuriating minx was quite right.


This holiday has seen us investigating the works of Bill Viola, whose exhibition "First Dream" is on display at the Mori Tower in Roppongi Hills.


We've been to Asakusa, danced around the shiniest bits of Tokyo, and had, in total, eight hours of karaoke, a past-time seemingly conceived with my dear sister in mind...but perhaps most significantly, we re-created the Nativity using our sundry toys & things...sadly, my inability to find a friendly video hosting website means I can't cram all of it on here, so thusly, we present the final scene...



...close friends and family shall be privy to the full version just as soon as we get round to putting it onto DVD...

Having Liz here has given us a taste of home at a potentially trying time of year. In the spirit of New Year, we've formed a rough plan of action that will (one day) deposit us safely in Blighty, maybe even London, via bits of Asia & anywhere else we fancy...and in that same spirit, we went out last night to an all night event (we went home at three) in the heart of Tokyo, headlined by none other than the BOREDOMS, quite possibly one of the reasons I came out here in the first place.


To say that they rocked our socks off would be an understatement. Three drummers, going at it like the clappers, and their notorious singer fiddling with a variety of electronic squiggle boxes, shrieking down a microphone, and striking a tall totem pole contraption made out of six guitars. The Japanese ethic of "you can fit more in there" was once again demonstrated in vibrant colours, as surges of people anxious to get close to the performers thought not of those puny fleshy things in their path...Hayley & I retreated to a safe little haven on top of a recycle bin, where we could both stick our heads around the corner, and occasionally grasp an unimpeded view.

The rest of the night was a bit of a damp squib, (after seeing the headliners, how could it not be?) but I was only interested in the Boredoms. Two extremes of the DJ world were presented to us...if a DJ can surprise you with a skillfully executed blend of music and make you want to dance to it, then they're doing something good, and I doff my hat unto them. The other side of that coin is the DJ who poses, preens and peacocks about on the merits of his record collection, dress sense and attempts to rouse the crowd with a battery of hand gestures.

Present also were a troupe of "belly" dancers, but frankly, they were undeserving of the moniker (to quote one Andy Forster, inspiration for my recently acquired facial fungus, "skin and bone"), as an inflated abdomen is something I have become intimately familiar with, now that another Christmas has ended.

Eikaiwa...and Nihongo kaiwa?

Well, so much for updating every day. In recent months, my evenings have been chocka-block with English conversation classes.

English education is a massive industry in Japan, the diabolical Nova being but one head on a veritable Hydra of Eikaiwa Kaisha (English Conversation Companies). Although some former employees have said it isn't all that bad, I consider myself fortunate not to be attached to a company like Nova (running joke over here is that it's short for "NO VAcation"). What I have is a couple of private classes, both of which just seemed to fall into my lap.

One is about fourteen adults in Yokohama, from all walks of life. This is in something of a classroom setting, and I am completely responsible for materials, lesson plans et al. This is the sort of thing I learned to do in the CELTA. Teaching adults who actually want to learn allows me to things that I'd never dream of doing with teenagers.

Tonight, I've been at a much more informal affair at a local Elementary School. My students are all teachers at this school, and I've worked with them in my day to day job.

The set up is this - we sit around a table. We drink coffee. We eat biscuits. We gossip. I get paid.

Tonight, I did something I've been planning for ages, namely, creating a CD of the most weirdly obscure and scary Japanese music I could, and subjecting these poor women to it. They were very patient, considering the looks of genuine anguish on their faces.

If that wasn't enough, on wednesdays I have a Japanese conversation class...this has had me appearing on Kawasaki Radio, and on saturday, will take me to some education centre, where I'll be giving some sort of presentation for some reason in front of an indeterminate number of people...so, the only writing I've been doing in recent days is this speech...

...so, no daily update, and a series of excuses...tune in next time when you'll read Shining Love Pig saying...

...and Rock & Roll.

I was twenty-one when I first heard John Zorns’ Naked City project - a super-group of established jazz artists such as Bill Frisell and Fred Frith, with the occasional appearance by Yamatsuka Eye - a shrieking ball of howls, grunts, roars and belches.

“He can’t possibly do that for a living.” I thought, filing Yamatsuka san under “investigate”. Months later, he popped up again on a recording of an improvised gig in Manchester no less, under the truly inspired moniker of MC Hellshit. That did it, and I decided to read up on him.

Imagine my joy when I found out that he fronted a Japanese rock band called Boredoms. Thus, a love affair which continues to this day was born. I started listening to their music just as it changed direction, towards psychedelic trance-rock, but they had a back-catalogue of more abrasive stuff. One reviewer described Boredoms music of this period as “punk rock torn to pieces and then stapled back together again”…sections of improvised noise from Yamatsuka san and the rest of the band (of a similar vocal persuasion) complimented with cartoon rock, which is heavy, obnoxious, definitely not the sort of thing you’d play to your mother or in-laws and laced with a gloriously demented sense of humour.

Joy, thought I. Rapture, even. Here was a whole new world of music to discover. I then began investigating what Japanese music I could. Just as noisy as Boredoms, but a lot tighter musically, are Melt Banana. To call upon another reviewer, Melt Banana are a “steel locomotive going full speed through a brick wall”. It’s excellent cleaning-the-house music, fast, relentless and exhausting.

My stint at the Library had me encountering the delightful peculiarities of Asa Chang & Junray, the likes of whom I’ve never heard before. Asa Chang formerly led the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra, then from what I can gather, took up the tablas and went off to form this group. They combine elements of traditional Indian music with…whatever they can find by the look of it. There’s something Gilliam-esque about Asa Chang and Junray. Each piece is like a weird little machine, sometimes gracefully and beautifully complex, other times slightly comical.

Like a Lovecraftian hero, I discovered the chaotic horrors of Merzbow, who since the 70’s has plowed a deafening furrow in a field occupied by groups such as Throbbing Gristle. Then I found the sublime work of Susumu Yokota. He made his name in the Rave craze of the early nineties, then retreated into the mountains to construct artfully restrained ambient works. He has a prolific output, still releasing an album of DJ fodder every now and then…I heartily recommend anything of his to anyone.

So anyway, with these characters under my belt, I hopped onto a plane to Japan, part of me expecting rather naively that I’d discover a dearth of interesting music…

J-Pop (go here for an article about the history of…) is a term that describes the bulk of pop music made in Japan. Other genres are marked as J-Club, J-Reggae, J-Punk etc…Jazz however is Japanese Jazz (J-Jazz is just silly)…I think the obscene creature that is J-Pop has grown out of Japans insatiable thirst for the rest of the world, and their desire to make it Japanese. It’s like they’ve seen what is considered pop music and imitated it, exaggerating what is to them, its’ most prominent features. Thusly we have very highly produced, glittery, shiny, spangly AUDIO-JOY, or poignant, heart-breaking, desperately earnest POWER-BALLADS. It is hideous. If ever a nation deserved to drown in a lake of cheese…

You can accuse any Pop Music market of being obsessed with the young, fresh faced and new…one group however manage to take that thought to it’s most ridiculous extreme, yet still remain perfectly logical (especially if you're a foaming cynic). Morning Musume was founded in 1997 by producer Tsunku. The group (made up of girls aged from 12-24) exists independently of the members, who have a near constant turn-over, retiring once they're considered too old, or if they’re found to be doing anything inappropriate to the bands image, such as having a relationship. Yes indeed, sex sells.

There’s still fun to be had in the mainstream though. Big in the mid to late nineties were Judy and Mary, truly everything you expect a Japanese Pop/Rock group to sound like - boppy, noisy, stompy, cheerful and unsophisticated yet competent, bringing you songs such as “Cheese Pizza“ wherein the heroine’s icy heart melts like a...yes. Poetry. Their former front-lady, Yuki, has had a successful solo career since then, and I will confess to being partial to her squeaky voice.

Exploding with success just before I arrived were Orange Range, performing a kind of rap, with a kind of heavy rock, with lots of squiggly synth noises. Success over here is equated with having your music associated with products, movies and adverts, which makes sense, as Japan has the second largest music industry in the world, and you’d be hard pressed to hear of any of their famous bands outside of the country.

But, what of Boredoms? What of Susumu Yokota? In all the conversations I’ve had with Japanese people about music, only two of them have heard of Boredoms. Unsurprising really, considering what they are faced with in terms of popular appeal. The upside is that when I happen to play MC Hellshit to my students, I take an impish glee in seeing the looks on their faces when I inform them of his origins…


...my thanks to Wikipedia...

Gagaku...and some larking about

Literally "elegant sound", this is the music of the Imperial court, derived from Chinese and Korean models. Although little is known of prehistoric Japanese music, figurines depicting musicians have been discovered, suggesting its early importance, along with poetry. The word "uta" can mean either "song" or "poem". Ancient stories, rituals and legends, recorded in the Kojiki and the Nihongi formed the basis of the old songs.


An ensemble generally consisted of about sixteen musicians playing koto (zither-ish), biwa (lute-like), taiko drum and wind instruments such as the hichiriki (oboe-esque) or shakuhachi (flute-y). Taiko drum displays are immense to behold, relying as much on choreography as on massive drums being pounded. Taiko drumming has also found expression in a very popular computer game, complete with drums, sticks and cute little Manga creatures which, as Matt will no doubt testify, is absurdly good fun.

Although largely overshadowed by J-pop, traditional Japanese music is still considered important enough to be taught in schools. The young lady is playing a koto. It usually has thirteen strings, although the 1920's saw the creation of the 17 stringed bass koto. The pitch is changed by moving the bridges across the body. The standard tuning is called Hirajoshi, meaning "tranquil tuning", but there are others. It's plucked with three plectrums strapped to the thumb and fingers, the shape varying depending on the school of playing, although, as this was very much an introduction to the koto (for me at any rate) we only used the thumb. Notation uses the kanji for 1-10 (denoting the strings) and three others that, although mean 11-13, are unique to koto music.

The tune we played was Sakura meaning "cherry blossoms" - a famous symbol of Japan. Cherry blossom viewing, or Hanami is a great excuse to sit under a pretty pink tree and get drunk. I missed that last year as I was still finding my way around...but this year, heh-heh-heh...back to the koto, of course I had a go...
(see the concentration!)...but they aren't exactly portable...I may take up the shamisen...

...and on saturday, despite the carnage faced in other parts of Japan, we had a right good muck about in the snow...





...culminating in a random trip to Odaiba...



...specifically, the Museum of Emerging Science...


...which gave us many an opportunity for educational tomfoolery.





Having the innermost workings of a particle accelerator explained to you in Japanese is just as confusing as it sounds.

A whinge...?

Just before I begin, here`s a few photos from a recent day-trip to Tokyo, relevant for the Sensoji stuff which I neglected to include in the last entry...









The last two are from Ginza, which was apparently one of the first places in Tokyo to Westernise...it makes sense, as this was done off the back of Emperor Meiji (1868-1912) and the Imperial Palace is only up the road. The Meiji period ended the 264 year Edo period, wherein Japan closed its borders to the rest of the world and let its indigenous culture foment. Born of the Komei family, the new fifteen year old Emperor took the title Meiji, meaning "enlightened rule" and embraced Western culture throughout his reign, sometimes called the "Meiji Restoration"(I still find it slightly strange to read Japanese writers talking about "Western Enlightenment"). The Japanese middle classes of that time are satirised in Natsume Soseki`s "I am a Cat", the protagonist observing their foibles with cool feline detachment.

But anyway...

I`ve mentioned the Japanese work ethic before, and touched on the very strong possibility that the long hours put in are a way of keeping face with the group. To leave work early can be embarassing. Not surprising then, that my illustrious employers, being a Japanese/American company are aware of this cultural quirk. Since they are a business first, rather than an educational institution, they wish to groom their product (me) to fit the expectations of their customers (the dilligent teachers), which tends to leave me, once the lessons are over, sitting on my Great British backside, invariably twiddling my thumbs, waiting for 17:15, or to be told I can go home. I don`t intend this blog to be a pedestal from which to complain, but this entry was conceived whilst I was doing just that.

The thing is, once in a Blue Moon, a teacher will say to me "There are no more classes today Chris. You can go home." The other thing is that after 14:30 EVERY DAY, there are no classes. Some days are more special than others, it would seem...

Now JET ALT`s on the other hand appear to have it very sweet. JET is a joint program between the Japanese government and sundry counterparts in the "West" (although Australia is included). They do the same job as me, but the application process is a bit tougher, lasting about a year. From where I`m sitting (my gradually numbing arse) the benefits sound rather tasty, ie, an extra　￥40,000-50,000 (200 quid) a month, and the ability to go home early if you have nothing to do.

Grrr!

But I`m not really whinging - I have benefits, in that I have to involve myself in school life, which is pretty rewarding. As a result of many an afternoon with nowt to do, I`ve been participating in the after school Brass Band, when their schedule matches mine (ie, when they don`t start at five pm). Anybody who`s played in one of these before will know what I mean when I say "pompous-wanky-military-band- arrangement" (let`s call it a "PWAMBA"). In one of the bands, we`re playing a PWAMBA of "Can`t take my eyes off you", with a highly skilled drummer, who can`t read music and loves rock, so the beat is rather Satanic and my ears are delighted.

This week, the school across the road from me has been preparing for its annual culture festival, so that gave me something else to do in my not inconsiderable down-time.

















Murakami Sensei`s class was performing a traditional Kawasaki dance, fused with healthy doses of Hip-Hop...being teenagers, not all of them were prepared to do it, and some got rather nowty about the whole thing...the good news is maybe an hour or two ago, he phoned me up saying that his class had actually been selected as the best performers of the day. He wanted to thank me for the help I gave him...the "help" being participating in rehearsals for the dance...those of you who know me will be aware that I have all the grace of an epileptic hippo throwing a tantrum induced by electric shock in the middle of an earthquake. And I`m not really that flexible. I struggled enough with following instructions in Tai Chi, and that was in English...

...this week at school surprised me...more on that in the next entry, the ominously titled "Children".

O-niku suki suki, O-niku suki suki...YEAH!

Music. I love it, you love it, we all love it. The Japanese of course take things a step further. Their desire for music or noise or stimulus of some kind appears to be more of a pathological need if the busy areas are anything to go by. Every time you step off a train you are greeted by a fanfare of happy jingly WELCOME! chimes - Kawasaki station in particular plays a loop of twittering birds over the stairs towards the ticketing gate.　　￥100 shops frequently have a little stereo outside, with blaring techno and a little lady shrieking "Irasshimase!" (please come in, be welcome or something like that). Such is the prevalance of random sources of music in central Kawasaki, I managed to pretty much completely miss a rather fierce Trance event, noticing it the third time I walked past it.

It doesn`t stop there. There`s a shopping street, a good mile away from the centre, with greengrocers, fishmongers, takoyaki stalls, green tea merchants & lamp-posts festooned with tiny tinny tannoys, belching forth the latest offerings from the glitter-spattered denizens of the J-Pop world...

...J-Pop is actually pretty nightmarish. They have a penchant for ballads. It wouldn`t be so bad if they were power ballads - at least then they`d be funny. No such luck. Mainstream J-Pop is a tapestry of saccharine horror. This country spawned The Boredoms? Actually, I`m not surprised, although nobody seems to have heard of them over here ("Boadomusu?" "Hai. Nihonjin desu." Baffled silence...), but this entry isn`t about J-Pop or Japanoise (I haven`t made that term up)...

...all the schools I`ve visited have the Chimes of Big Ben separating each period. The ring tone for Kyomachi`s telephones is "The Entertainer". Fujimi and Nakanoshima alternate between light chamber music & Celine Dion during their lunch hours, but it`s the shopping areas that seem to be the main source for constant muzak. The mini-supermarket I use has an advert on a semi-permanent loop for "O-niku". I knew the word before, but it`s only recently clicked in my mind what it actually means. It is a constant source of amusement for me that the chorus of chirpy, cheerful, hellishly cute Manga-heroines who shout "O-niku!" at the start of the jingle are actually shouting "MEAT!"

Finishing in the pop vein, and it seems that not even Japan is safe from the rampage of Katie Melua. Where`s Godzilla when you need him?

Cross-cultural language education

All this week, I`ve been at Nakanoshima Junior High, a half-hour train journey out of Kawasaki. As a result, I`ve been getting up at five in the morning, staring bleakly at the clock on my laptop (still set to GMT) thinking that a session down the pub would be just about getting started...no more. I`ve finished at this particular school for the forseeable future. Apart from the absurd rising hour, this has been a fun week - I`ve been giving the kids a speaking test, which unfortunately has meant asking the same questions to about two-hundred and forty students, but things like that really bring out the characters. Here I`ve encountered the most fluently spoken english student yet. I asked a teacher if she knew what he was actually saying, and she responded with
"Not really, he uses a lot of very hard words." I`ll say. He`s learned all of his English from Hip-Hop albums (he even did a little yo-dance for me), and apparently "it`s the fucking shit, motherfucker."