I'm a Laura!

Today, a sunny Sunday, my talented friend Laura G came over to my house in Tagawa. We ate apples and oatmeal and made joyful noise on violin, ukelele and melodica, practicing our cheeky covers setlist for a Japan tsunami relief concert next month. It was so great to have another person to bounce ideas and harmonies off of. Music and friendship - they add meaning to my life. Noteworthy: today also marked my very first daytime visitor to my house in three years of living here. Three YEARS, one daytime visitor. No one ever wants to come out here since I'm so far removed from the hustle and bustle of "things to do" and "civilization." I'm glad somebody finally did.

Too bad our roads are forking so soon, or else we'd get a ton of shirts printed saying "The Lauras." I refuse to let this go.

Laura blogs at Ichigone, by the by.

Practice in the dark

"Cafe" music and パリ syndrome

In Japan, "café" is its own music genre, and it is 99% either chilled-out bossa nova or some sort of quaint take on a French chanson. Essentially, all that is domestic and adorable is equated to France here. There are not enough fingers and toes on all the polydactyl cats in Asia to count the number of twee trinkets, clothing shops, kitchen accessory shops, notebooks, stickers, etc etc etc ad nauseum that boast meaningless French. I don't know what you would call it...with English it's Engrish. Furansuçais?

Either way, it doesn't take a genius to work out that Japan has a boner for France - ah, excusez-moi, "boner" is rather inaccurate - perhaps a giddy wetting of the vaginal walls in preparation for getting boned on tour packages to the French capital. I have done a little traveling in France - been groped and offered cocaine in alleys by its nationals, sipped wine in spectacular vineyards on a beautiful summer day, smoked Gauloises and downed strong coffee, taken that tedious day trip to Monaco - all those things you do in France should you find yourself there. There is romance everywhere and it is a magical place - the Japanese got that right. But it hits a lot of Feudal Nipponese tourists a bit hard when they actually put themselves on a plane to CDG.

パリ/Pari/Paris is every Japanese woman's fantastic candyland of love, and you can't go anywhere in the city without running into gaggles of J-ladies carrying hazardously wide open shopping bags draped over one arm. With so many beautiful buildings, quaint cafés, and incredible shopping and style, the appeal is a no-brainer. About a million Japanese visit Paris in a given year. Unfortunately, as with any enormous city built on tourism and political unrest, there are obstacles that get in the way of Japan's vision of perfect bossa-nova France - sexual harassment, a sizable crime rate, racial and ethnic tension between immigrant groups, bums upchucking on Le Métro, graffiti (heavens, no), etc.

I know this was all over the news five years ago, but as I see it, no modifications in the Japanese attitude toward "café" lifestyle and tacking French onto everything have been made. So I'll leave you with a link to an article describing "Paris syndrome," which basically amounts to "Japanese people going insane from culture shock because their dream visions of Paris have been shattered." It doesn't take a whole lot to make people go crazy here judging by the country's suicide rate, and Paris syndrome doesn't surprise me at all.

(...This all came up because I'm thinking I'd like to go to France again soon. Japan has infected me. I just downloaded half a GB of Putumayo world music albums.)

Hey

Been trying to meet you...

I've fallen in love with yet another song. Going to do my best to do justice to the guitar bends via a borrowed violin at tomorrow's friendly jam session.

AMS?

Snapped a paparazzi shot of the lead guitarist in local rock legend Sinnocular at a tram stop this morning. He probably knew what was going on. That's what you get for being famous - Sinnocular are not only featured on the cover of this month's "Fukuoka Now" magazine, but an interview with the band as well as preview footage and concert dates are on the front page of the Fukuoka Now website!

I was so excited about Austin. I still am excited about Austin. But there is a new layer of possibility, and it's famous for pancakes, legal vice, and outspoken anti-Islamic politician Geert Wilders. If I do in fact require everlasting culture shock and stressful acclamation to new countries and funny foreign languages to course through my veins at all times, chasing my man to the Netherlands with no visas, job leads or Dutch language skills could certainly satisfy.

I picked out that jacket and bought it for him. I wish someone would hire me to play paper dolls with rock bands. I'd be a great and much needed help.

cause you are GOLD

Back to life after being dead.

Here it is, a song that lifts my spirits to the point where I grow little horns right out of my skull. It's like I woke up from a coma and suddenly remembered who I am. I cannot translate my feelings into words so please accept my terms unconditionally: everything is right in the world. The little part of my brain reserved for psychedelic drug experiences, eating delicious forbidden food and rocking the heck out has been stimulated. I believe this is "spiritual."

Yes I know Mercyful Fate did it first, but Ghost and their unabashed return to the roots of black metal (which is somehow "psychedelic" or "doom" in this confusing modern world of classification...?) are such a welcome breath of fresh air. I haven't gotten really excited about metal in months, but "Opus Eponymous" is an album that's going straight to loop on my playlist.

"Ritual" is probably my personal favorite due to the blissful simplicity of the keyboard and vocal harmonies present during the chorus and flawless guitar work throughout. There's no extraneous wanking anywhere - proof that "badass" can exist without the inclusion of 64th notes. I'm a huge fan of the spoken passages in goofy demonic voice too. If you can't appreciate cheesy soliloquies about sacrificing virgins and goat lords, get the fuck out of the hall.

I have thought about my fascination and relationship with metal, Satan, Satanism, evil and hellfire imagery. I do not actually believe any of it is real yet I do genuinely find it titillating and thrilling to imagine the situations painted on cautionary medieval murals, where naked and lost souls fall into the fiery pits only to be tortured by grotesque looking demons with two dicks each. I have considered the possibility that it is a disingenuous or ironic fascination, but it's really not and it never will be. If you don't get it, you probably won't.

Hail Satan!

Musical Discovery: Welle: Erdball

It seems if I so choose, I can see these guys live in Berlin at K17 on Dec. 30. I think I would like to. People ask me why I'm so infatuated with Germany, and I think Welle: Erdball sum it up nicely by combining elements of nerdy electro beeps and boops (pioneers of 8-bit), EBM/synthpop vibe, and a touch of retro/steampunk for good measure. It helps that their style is fucking fabulous and they create music about computers. One more "I'm such a doofus for not acknowledging the existence of such excellence years ago" to add to the big pile.

Music fanaticism.

I love music. I obsess over my "currently listening to" like a teenager. I play the violin whenever inspiration beats laziness. I am going to play creative nu-metal covers at an upcoming gig. I take karaoke ever so slightly too seriously and get mad when people ruin the vibe of the song in question. I would actually commit murder to see Kraftwerk perform in a live setting. Perhaps most importantly, I may never outgrow the adolescent tactic of using songs to define moments and emotions in my life.

Everyone has different methods of cataloguing their highs, lows and middle grounds. I just happen to rely primarily on the dates on digital photos to keep accurate timelines, and on songs and bands that feature prominently in remembering.

The Horrible First Heartbreak was "Cut Here" by The Cure.

My First Scandalous Affair was "Beating Heart Baby" by Head Automatica.

The Great Pants-Peeing Psilocybin Adventure of Boxing Day 2008 was "Electric Feel" by MGMT.

Stupid Bout of Really Awful Depression in Japan was "In der Palästra" by Sopor Aeternus and the Ensemble of Shadows.

etc forever.

My mother doesn't give a rat's tail about music. While she is familiar enough with relevant songs so as to narrowly avoid the "pop culturally autistic" moniker, she has no interest in music as a form of entertainment on a daily basis. There is never, ever music playing at my parents' house. Music is just something dad does when he's driving solo. I had to find the joy in enjoying and obsessing over and loving music independently of my family, though I give them lots of credit for encouraging me to pick up violin.

On the "fandom" end of things, it all started with Limp Bizkit. Arguably the worst band ever to become even marginally popular. I fell in love with Wes Borland, but I would have let Fred Durst take me to bed if he'd asked. I obsessively read fan websites about Wes Borland - the best was "Obsessy With Wessy," hosted on Angelfire - memorized his favorite food, color, shoe size, all this stupid bullshit. I actually think I cried once or twice thinking about how frustrating it was that we might never meet and he would certainly not fall in love with me. I was just an overweight teenager with acne, had no boobs to flash at concerts like some of the other female fans did, but I loved him with all my heart and then some. With this unstoppable love came a fervent fanatic addiction to Limp Bizkit as a musical entity. I owned every album up through "Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water" (which was obviously bought the day it was released) and I memorized the chugtastic guitar riffs, lead AND backing vocals, and the ins and outs of every song. I went to the bathroom six times before the opening act came on the one time I scored arena tickets to see them (I remember the date - it was December 11, 2000). This went on for some time.

Ten years later I look back on how silly it was to be so obsessed with Limp Bizkit and feel jealous of my younger self! If I were that passionate about anything, at this age I could conquer the world.

Out of the darkness and into the next level of darkness

It's a morbid new fascination.

Orientalism in Italo and Euro Disco

Jessica - "Chinese Magic"

Aneka - "Japanese Boy"

Peter Randell - "Lost in Tokyo"

Murray Head - "One Night in Bangkok"

Fuck your life. Leave it behind and head to the exotic Orient, where neon lights and golden opportunities await your every need with a ninety degree bow and petite feet. The sprawling Asian megalopolis is "Blade Runner" gone utopic, so unexplored and so utterly foreign that it will eat you alive and you will never be the same. Enjoy complete and absolute anonymity in the Far East; fall in love with a beautiful creature that you can bring home later; even the strongest and mightiest of men fall prey to the wicked and unexpected charms hidden in dark alleyways, go-go bars and tea salons.

As much as we like to pretend we are creatures of enlightenment because we read Edward Said in Asian Studies 101, I think we as Westerners in Asia all carry a little bit of this Orientalist fantasy with us when we hop on that long flight. Asia is still uncharted territory as far as young Western interests are concerned - how many people do you know that can name more than five cities in China? As far as North Americans are concerned, many more opt to head to Western Europe or the tropical islands to the south for leisure travel. Those who make the trek over to Asia often (sometimes un)consciously carry little beacons of pride with them on their travels, peering down their noses at those pawns who think Paris is a big culture shock jump because the French speak French. Yeah brah, Europe is cool and all, but Asia is for the adventurous.

It applies to me, too, even though I have much more in common physically with the feline, almond-eyed geisha-ladyboy-me-love-you-long-time sex object than the awkward-looking visible foreigners stumbling around Tokyo with maps and backpacks. No one looks at me twice over here, and they have no idea that I am listening to "Chinese Magic" on repeat under my blanket while China Airlines Flight 0011 lands bumpily at TPE. As mentioned in this wankfest entry from a few months ago, it didn't take long for Tokyo to lose its magical mystery. I think I know deep down that the sprawling capital cities of Asia are just like anywhere else, with possibly more hepatitis and deformed beggar children, and that's why I'm afraid to visit and keep running away to Europe instead of exploring the countries and cultures in close proximity to Japan. I actually want Asia to be the exoticised fantasy land of Italo and Euro disco from 25 years ago, and not simply part of a globalized world that has been raped and pillaged by American popular culture.

Melancholic.

Rainy season seems to be here.

A little cloudy, a little monsoony, a little sad. A little lonely, a little introspective, a lot of solitude. The absolute last thing I feel like doing is socializing with people I know. I'd rather chat anonymously to strangers or write escapist wank about fictional emotions.

Without the albums pictured above it would be much harder to keep myself in this artificially rendered fog. Thank you to the brilliant musicians out there who strive to capture the exact kind of melancholy that we all love to wallow in.

Arirang

I'm not a real Korean but I still cried like a baby when I watched the New York Philharmonic play "Arirang" in Pyongyang. And then again watching all the other "Arirang" videos on Youtube. And then even more when I played it myself on the violin, recorded myself playing it, and listened to it.

I hate when people talk about North Korea and South Korea like they are separate species of humans. Korea was torn in half less than 60 years ago. People have family on either side of the border. They have the same national anthem, and both celebrate "Arirang" as the ultimate song of national pride that swells deep in the chests of every citizen.

Here's to hoping for a reunified Korea someday. I think it will happen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A53l8xOkPFw

The "what if"

When I was in high school I was VERY dedicated to the pursuit of violin, orchestra, chamber orchestra, string quartets, playing at weddings and art shows, etc. I even got a private teacher my senior year after landing the first chair position (I still maintain this was a freak accident as I am a naturally inclined novice at best) in an audition for a regional youth orchestra. My music teachers were far too optimistic and spouted all this encouraging bullshit about how I could easily get into a conservatory and that I should become a performance major or educator, etc, blah blah blah.

Well, I didn't do that. I went to Vassar instead for liberal arts, and I had a really nice time there - I played in their orchestra for a couple years, met really amazing professors, read a lot of interesting texts, and made lifelong friends. Vassar really opened my eyes to different kinds of people that didn't exist in my hometown, which was neat, and I am of course eternally thankful to my grandmother's inheritance for fronting the bill.

I keep in touch with some friends/former teachers from my active orchestra days via Facebook, and they are working at schools as orchestra/instrument teachers and talking about preparing their students for upcoming concerts and things. Naturally, a (significant) part of me is thinking "I want to do that!!!!!!!!!" and wondering "what if........"

A long hiatus and a brief update

I've not written in over a month due to lack of inspiration, but that doesn't mean nothing has happened. In the past month I have done some traveling, saw my third year students graduate, signed on for a major musical project, and am in the process of enjoying the ephemeral cherry blossoms characteristic of springtime in Japan.

Places Visited

A few weeks ago I went to Tokyo to meet a bunch of friends from the Internet, as you do. Did the usual drinking, clubbing, singing and all that. Had dinner at an Uzbek/Turkish restaurant with belly dancers and hookahs one night. One interesting new experience I had in Tokyo, aside from those which are not fit to write about on a public blog, was going to a cat cafe. It is exactly what it sounds like - you pay a fee of roughly ￥1000 to sit in this big pink salon style room where there are a dozen or so cats sitting around that you can pet and play with, and the staff serves hot beverages to go with your cat. Very quaint, but the sort of suffocating quaint where it's just so sweet that you feel miserably depressed.

I also went to Nagasaki with Walter for a long weekend. I was unpleasantly surprised to see that the city itself was kind of drab and run-down, with only its natural geography and of course the irresistible allure of the atomic bomb memorial museum and Peace Park to draw in tourists. I don't know what I expected from Nagasaki but I felt a little disappointed; perhaps I expected it would be more sunny and California-esque the way Sasebo is. Did the obligatory visit to the atomic bomb museum; it was quite well done and lacked any sort of intrusive political agenda aside from (somewhat obviously) being pro-nuclear disarmament. I met an old woman in the Peace Park near the epicenter of the bombing who was a survivor, she was five years old when Nagasaki was bombed and remembered that there used to be a cherry tomato patch where it fell.

Graduation and Staff Changes

Not much to report here. The third years graduated, which was pretty bittersweet since they were my favorite year of students. I hope they do well for themselves and don't all end up working at the Trial (fake Wal-Mart) in Tagawa. A couple of them email me sometimes but it's really a fool's hope to think I can really keep in touch with anyone for that long.

As mandated by the stupid Troglodyte Council of Retards (prefectural Board of Education), the carnival lottery system has spoken and we are undergoing major staff changes from April 1. This year the principal and BOTH vice principals are changing, as well as three English teachers and a whole bunch of other teachers. The entire office staff downstairs are changing too. While I welcome new coworkers who are possibly better than their predecessors, it's pretty awful that my favorite English teacher is being transferred. I will never understand this crap-chute system of moving employees around.

Musical Endeavors

I signed on to play violin at a charity concert in June. It's being held at the Fukuoka Christian Center for the sake of decent acoustics and performance hall space. Apparently I am collaborating with someone else, who knew. My ideas for what to play are as follows, and definitely still a work in progress....

-Sonata for Violin and Piano in A, Cesar Franck, Mvmts III and/or IV - solo violin
-Arirang (Korean folk song) - solo violin
-Sea Chantey/Metallica medley - violin and guitar
-Cover of "Clovenhoof" by Tiamat - violin and guitar

Aside from the charity concert I am also thinking of shattering the glass walls preventing me and Walter from playing music together. We're both better than terrible at what we do, and could probably be a formidable for-fun stage act. Miho is organizing a party with local musicians for the end of May and I'd like to offer my goods and services to that.

Springtime?

It is fucking cold this year. Today the high is supposed to be 12 and the low a pathetic 2. I wore my heavy wool trenchcoat to work today and was still stupidly cold on the walk this morning. Cut the bullshit please, I don't want to sit around looking at cherry blossoms wrapped in fifteen blankets and shivering. I did go to a lovely nighttime event in Kumamoto this past weekend, something of a festival of cherry blossoms and 8,000 lit candles in a temple on a hill.

Fucking badasses.

Oh I totally forgot to mention Sunday was the Bota Rock 2010 rock festival in Tagawa. As a musical event it was spectacularly good, and possibly even better for straight up people watching. Toothless old men with missing fingers, aging bar hostesses without panties, junior high school kids in uniform, and all varieties of rockabillies and pompadour-sporting greasers flung themselves around to 7 bands ranging from Celine Dion-esque diva solo singers to a junior high school band covering the Ventures and a working-class doo-wop/boogie outfit who actually went the distance and wrote a catchy song about the local private train line. Unforgettably fun time, reminded me that rock and roll is not dead. And I will be updating this post with photos.

Burgundy, no words.

The hair needed to be darker for fall.

I know music is something so personal that many people (myself included sometimes) prefer to enjoy their favorite songs in solitude, but this one is really so touching and lovely that I want to share it.

Goth for fall.

I've decided that my preferred look is "goth-lite." Enough to get you into the goth club, but not enough to draw negative attention from normal people. Just some chunky laceup boots here, some bold makeup there, hints of lace and lots of black.

I have also rediscovered Clan of Xymox. They are just so, so good. Go find them.

Calvin Harris

I HAVE TICKETS! I am so happy.

Woodpeckers from Space

My friend Rene in Yamanashi is getting me really into Italo Disco. It's all this horrible '80s Eurodance music that makes you want to grow an impressive mustache, and all the vocals sound exactly like those in Falco's "Rock Me Amadeus." I'd say Video Kids are an ideal example, and possibly the grandfathers of that awful "Crazy Frog" monstrosity that hit around the same time as the Summer Olympics in 2004. "Woodpeckers From Space" is something you MUST experience.


YOUTUBE!


In other news, my hair is all slimy and residue-y from sea salt due to a weekend at another beach! AJET hosted a beach BBQ on Saturday on this island that's only 5 minutes away from Fukuoka by ferry. I wish it had been sunny but even on a cloudy day it looks like something straight out of Hawaii, or a reality TV show about strangers stranded on a tropical island.

This Is Not This Is Not Miami.

You've of course heard "This Is Not Miami" by Sander Kleinenberg.

Well, I like this one better.

Samael, "On Earth"

Before we could talk we were singing
Before we could run we were dancing
Life is short but not a day is lost
The world goes round and round
And we go on and on

Beijing to Amsterdam
Berlin to Buenos Aires
Sydney to L.A.
Rio to Abidjan
Stockholm to Athena
Dublin to Guatemala
London to Brasilia
Madrid to Philadelphia

Paris to San Fransisco
Detroit to Warszawa
Moscow to Mexico
Oslo to New Delhi
Helsinki to New Orleans
Vienna to Ankara
Roma to Lisboa
On earth, we're all...

Dancing with a hidden tribe
Learning to move and fly
Touching the sky with our hands
Longing to love to understand
Dancing with a hidden tribe
Learning to move and fly
Touching the sky with our hands
Longing to love to understand

New York to Tokyo
Melbourne to Budapest
Prague to Jaipur
Shanghai to Montreal
Vancouver to Singapore
Sofia to Johannesburg
Hong Kong to St. Petersburg
On earth, we're all...

Dancing with a hidden tribe
Learning to move and fly
Touching the sky with our hands
Longing to love to understand
Dancing with a hidden tribe
Learning to move and fly
Touching the sky with our hands
Longing to love to understand

Uploaded for you here! Beware of heavy Swiss-French accented English and growly vocals.