Due to internet disruptions, I've been lax in updating which is exactly how my lethargic approach to blogs begins. Hyper enthusiasm in the beginning then disillusionment reigns. Having read through this article though, my excitement has returned.
For Notion magazine I had to break language barriers in order to interview the four touring Japanese bands on the 100% Genki parade, which saw De De Mouse, 80kidz, Riddim Saunter and Tucker wow audiences at UK festivals and one-off showcases. Catching up with them after an admittedly long and drunken morning at Brighton's Great Escape festival, they did an admirable job of putting up with me. A few additional email exchanges later and my need for exploration was engorged, resulting in this paen to my desire to wreck journalistic cliche....or something.
It’s almost an obligation, as someone who composes prose on music, to write something monolithic – almost unassailable in its depth and passion – with every article that gets published. You feel compelled to at least sound like the one expert on that particular subject, the go-to guy when someone needs information or inspiration. Our elders taught us this, whether it be the sadly departed fury of Swells, the punk rock authority of Nick Kent, the acidic gonzo of Lester Bangs or even the savage melding of participation and fiction ala Hunter S Thompson. Then, you hit a brick wall. In this case, it’s Julian Cope’s Japrocksampler. Standing like Mt Fuji in the way of any intention you might have had, a couple of months planning being no match for years of toothcombing and translation, you freeze. The task ahead seemingly becomes insurmountable.
Now, imagine all this strife and pressure wrapped into the psyche of four Japanese bands, visiting a foreign land for a mere month and hoping to bring their brand of music to audiences who are unlikely to be receptive to anything less than sensational. Pinned with the tag of being from the Orient – immediately the prejudices of kookiness, craziness and insanity being plastered all over them – these four artists somehow have to make their visit worth more than a thimbleful of sake in an ocean of alcohol. That’s without taking into account those who have organised such a tour. How do they react to the challenge? It puts puny writers’ block into perspective. Ahhh. Two paragraphs in and you still know very little about what you’ve come here to read. Just like the good old days.
100% Genki was a month long tour that took place back in May and saw four Japanese bands play dates at The Great Escape festival in Brighton, Futuresonic Festival in Manchester, a Strummerville showcase (more on this later), Stag and Dagger Festival in Shoreditch and Liverpool Sound City in…up north somewhere. Organised by music promoters Smash, those who book the annual Fuji Rock Festival in Japan, and supported by Strummerville, a charity organisation set up and run by friends and family of Joe Strummer after his death to promote new music, the intention was to provide festival audiences in the UK a chance to see something new and unique or at the very least, fun.
This was not left to chance. The four bands chosen seem almost specifically designed to provide the required attitude and energy expected from overseas bands. Whether this expectation is down to some form of ‘impress me’ factor or even an outdated casual prejudice is not really a discussion for this article. What it means though is that Smash had their work cut out for them. James Smith explains:
“We were aiming to give the artists on the tour a first stepping stone into the international scene, and to build a platform to promote great music from Japan in general. It was also important to show UK audiences that Japanese music isn't just tongue-in-cheek, and that it possesses its own very individual identity.” Crossing cultural, as well as international, borders in such a delicate, yet perversely impactful, way is akin to breakdancing on eggshells. It helps if the dancers act as if the eggshells aren’t there in the first place.
“Whenever I try to adjust myself to something else, it gets messy. You can pretend to be somebody else but it never works. You just can be you.” De De Mouse
De De Mouse – or as his family know him Daisuke Endo – is a one man electronic-scimitar. Slight in stature and cheerful in nature, it almost seems a crime to have him stuck behind a laptop. Still, he makes the most of his beat and electronics mash up. Driving from blitzed pop samples, to languishing ambience through to happy hardcore psychosis, he never stands still. His performance at Strummerville yard – tucked away in an anonymous car mechanic workshop with ten foot tall anime robots greeting you as you tentatively walk inside – saw him yelling enthusiastically, bounding from foot to foot and tearing the very fabric of musicality with his punk-fuelled Aphex Twin-inspired music.
“When I was younger, yes, I was influenced by so much electronica, maybe too directly. But these days, I am more focusing on how much I can get feedback from the audience of the club, rock venues, or from big festivals.” De De Mouse
Throwing caution to the wind, fighting out of a self-carved corner De De Mouse represents a titanic effort to do more than focus on the usual crowds or people used to his aesthetics and sound. It can be said that this is the essence of 100% Genki, and that Smash’s intentions were drawn from concerns about simply pandering to an obvious audience.
“There are a handful (of Japanese artists) who've found success internationally, and who tour regularly, but many remain cult artists with fanbases consisting mainly of general Japan enthusiasts. Promoting Japanese music to that audience is preaching to the converted, and we wanted to make an effort to get the bands in front of people who have no other general curiosity in Japanese culture - just normal music fans. I think this is what is needed to take Japanese bands forwards, internationally,” explains James.
How do you even approach grabbing the senses of people not particularly interested in the one USP a bunch of bands has? What’s to say anyone will want to read this article who couldn’t care less about far eastern music? How do you tackle that? Well, if you have enough faith in people – readers, music fans, listeners – bringing them a little of what they know with a tinge of intrigue will always work wonders.
“We think music cuts through language barriers. Enjoying music is the one form of communication that makes people in the world happy.” 80kidz
80kidz were perhaps the most accessible of the groups on the tour. A lively trio with a typical setup – Al& plays guitar and keyboard, Jun plays bass and Mayu plays keyboards and sings – they’ve played with the likes of Justice, Boyz Noize and Hot Chip in their homeland. Their synth-ridden, catchy dance tracks bring to mind the rise of Cut Copy and Friendly Fires and their live show is irresistible. Familiarity helps people accept that which is not necessarily derived from the same sources. 80kidz cite relatively obscure Scottish sexpots The Vaselines as an influence, for instance. That they made only 12 songs in their time, it goes to show how much of an affect Western music has on eastern groups. It must be said at this juncture that The Vaselines were lucky enough to have 20% of their entire output covered by Nirvana, but nevertheless, there can only be a handful of people from overseas who’ve heard the originals anyway. I don’t remember everyone jumping for joy when The Vaselines reunion was announced.
“It will take some time but if we keep doing this, that will bring a great impact on both countries and that’s something that government support couldn’t do. Only something like the 100% Genki tour can make it happen.” 80kidz
It’s an unfair and unbalanced exchange – the dominant harmonies of the west and the underrated innovations of the east – but one that Smash is hoping to help redress.
“Promoting foreign music in the UK is always an uphill battle - we're quite insular here, and have a fairly snobby attitude about bands who sing in another language, but English people are increasingly curious about music from Japan.”
When a lot of people’s understanding of another country’s culture is limited to quirky gameshows, martial arts movies and cartoons, it makes you wonder what the motivation of these curious punters is. Do they want to see bands setting themselves on fire and leaping into crowds of people while playing inexplicable breakcore while dressed like a contestant on Takeshi’s Castle? Well...in that case, enter Tucker.
“It’s still not sufficient. I want more of a reaction.” Tucker on limited homeland success.
More of a spectacle than the other three artists, he perhaps represents the typical Japanese exponent that most westerners expect to see. Playing and sampling all the instruments on stage – bass, organ, guitar, theremin – while doing headstands on his tabletop, setting fire to the organ and throwing in snippets of kitsch muzak’s cheerleader Tequila, Tucker is trying to flay your every sense. Musically, he’s a curio, with some interesting layering ideas, and petroleum passion, but this almost comes secondary to his stagecraft. Although without a band, he performs as if no one would ever need one.
“I want to have fun with the audience, and put on a really heavy performance! I’m performing in front of the public, so it’s really important!” Tucker
“We did want to dispel certain preconceptions of Japanese music, and also bring the tour to as wide an audience as possible, and I think we were successful in that respect,” says James. Those preconceptions are possibly represented by Tucker, yet musically he is far and away from some impenetrable or grating noise (hello Merzbow, Melt Banana, Incapacitants, Hijokaidan) or gaping J Pop (take your pick - Hiraku Utada, Morning Musume, Ayumi Hamasaki, Every Little Thing etc.) Instead it’s a variety of styles lending a schizophrenic aural intake to the similarly frenetic visual show. In this ambiguous acceptance and refusal of cliché, Tucker is a sensational talent.
“It’s simply using instruments for fun. We don’t put up any resistance to changing our instruments! Therefore, anything goes, in our performances. It’s the kind of thing where we’ll just keep going if we’re having fun!” Riddim Saunter
Finally, we have the quintet of Riddim Saunter, an eclectic carnival of ska, rock and punk, swirling around like a runaway carousel. They swing rather than stamp their feet and they also seem to joyously snatch summer vibes for their own use. They are perhaps the best example of what 100% Genki is trying to achieve: a band that could quite easily appeal to a festival audience while resolutely originating from Japan. There’s almost no chance the band could come from anywhere else. Their performance at Strummerville saw their drummer leaving his kit to bang the biggest tambourine known to man, while his fellow band members turned to trumpets and keyboards in the spirit of the moment. It’s infectious and getting swept up in it all is the whole point and if there’s anything the UK festival crowds are good at, it’s getting involved.
“It was so fun. The reaction of English people came back to us straight away, compared to the reaction in Japan. However, we think music loving people are similar throughout the world.” Riddim Saunter
“We were all bowled over by audience responses to the acts, and really happy at how many new fans the bands made while they were over here. We managed to present a snapshot of the contemporary scene - vibrant, varied and full of enthusiasm,” adds James, sounding just as enthused by audience participation as Riddim Saunter.
Having tossed Japrocksampler out the window and thoroughly enjoyed the company and performances of the ecstatic and hyperactive yet polite Japanese musicians – who really do feel honoured to visit this country and play for us – I’ve turned my attention back to the insurmountable. You know, that looming mountainous threat, self-imposed and psychological, of somehow making a difference in some 1800 words. Advice to self for the future: step back, re-examine, then put yourself back into context, just for a minute.
“Costs are the first immediate barrier,” James tells me via email, upon my asking just what obstacles need to be tackled when sending four Japanese bands over for a month. The question itself arose simply to make myself feel better, yet gives me cause for thought. “Before you've even started, you're facing airfares of around £600 per person, so working with organisations and sponsors who can support the tour was very important. It also had to be worth everyone's while, and for the bands, this means having enough shows, getting enough chance to promote themselves, and creating new opportunities for their careers. Fortunately, several showcase festivals happen within a short period, and we were able to get them all in front of young, curious audiences.” So, in comparison none of us have anything to worry about, because we’ve hardly anything to lose. For a smidgen of promotional time and exposure, these bands, the organisers and the charities, against all odds, went ahead and meticulously planned the tour to everyone’s best advantage.
So what retort is there to this? Is it inspirational? Rather humbling? Complete madness? In the end, I’ve remembered that I’m merely a passionate writer who uses his language and way of communicating to attempt to breach people’s armour and get them tingling. In a way, I can be compared to these passionate artists and their eager, willing team, because we have the same goals in mind. We want you to listen to just a fraction of the vast musical output from Japan because - and here’s the crux - we all think it’s definitely worth your time. Interrupting your daily routine to listen to the sounds and rhythms that are forged in that land, influenced by western sounds but embalmed in their own traditional musical forms and culture; is that too much to ask? You’ve read this far haven’t you? I know you all like to figure out things for yourselves now that music journalists have become borderline obsolete in your eyes. That’s why I’ve jettisoned that no huge list of excellent acts I compiled. You don’t need anymore than these four and, maybe if you’re still interested, Julian Cope’s research. That’s enough to be getting on with. Have a taste of the insurmountable, your very own mountain range. See what it feels like. Figuring your own way through that terrain is some of the best fun you’ll ever have, I guarantee it.
Brad Barrett
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