Tuesday, 2 March 2010

Japanese Music - Part 2

Very important but extremely obscure


Hanatarash ("snot face")

Hanatarash (ハナタラシ) was a band formed in Osaka by Yamatsuka Eye and another bloke in 1984. Their music remains relatively unknown compared to their awe-inspiring, life-endangering live shows. Cutting a dead cat in half with a machete, Yamatsuka Eye almost cutting his leg off with a circular saw, driving a bulldozer through a venue wall, smashing A LOT of things, and throwing molotov cocktails... superbly crazy, but unfortunately unsustainable. By 1985 they were banned from playing at pretty much every venue in the country.



The band split and the members contributed to two of the most important music exports Japan has ever produced...

Monday, 1 March 2010

Japanese Music - Part 1

Japanese music. From the weird apparently atonal warblings of traditional instruments, to the cat-yowling racket of enka, Japanese music feels like it comes from a completely different world. This is largely because it does. Let's start with the obvious stuff...



J-pop

All pop music is a commercial consideration as much as it is a musical venture. That said, the money making device of J-pop is a very finely honed tool. The "idol" system that exists largely around Tokyo is the main source for J-Pop stars. "Idols" are ubiquitous stars, that are vaguely reminiscent of the Hollywood system stars of yester-year. These "idols" turn up on every second television show, star in movies, endorse endless arrays of products and "make" pop music. Whilst not being stunningly good looking most of the time, none of them are hideously ugly. Whilst not being particularly talented, they have a wide range of talents. "Singing," "dancing," and "acting" are all secondary to their ability to smile blithely, appear on endless variety shows, and keep their noses clean.

Among the idol performers are people such as SMAP, Ayumi Hamazaki and Kumi Koda. None of these people mean anything to me, and when students ask me for opinions of such people, I find myself hard pressed to boil up anything except IDON'TCARE.

Outside of the idol system, there are some bands that seem to have had a more normal ascendency from obsucre pop musician to J-pop star. Amongst these artists are Mr. Children (urrghh, what a name!), Kinki Kids (again! The name!), or Exile. They are slightly more tuneful than the average idol, but by no means virtuosos.

The actual music made by J-pop stars is incredibly bland. One theory that I have heard (and would not be at all surprised if this is completely accurate), is that karaoke has influenced J-pop due to the ongoing revenue generated by karaoke royalties. For older pop music, more revenue is generated by karaoke plays than by record sales, and it comes second only to radio for creating a lasting income source for older music. Most karaoke pundits have, at best, a limited vocal range, and so, easy to sing melodies are a major consideration when penning a potential J-pop hit. The operatic divas of American pop music are far too difficult for an average singer to perform comfortably at karaoke, and so, most J-pop is medium-paced, middle-registered, and sounds almost exactly like every other J-pop song anyone has ever heard. I have heard hundreds of hours of J-pop, but I would be hard pressed to hum you a tune, or tell you the title of anything because it's just all so damn same-ish.



Tuesday, 23 February 2010

Perfumed night




Tonight we rode our bikes to Osaka Castle to check on the progress of the plum blossom. A perfect storm of scent welcomed us as we came across the ridge. The plums are indeed, blooming, and they're blooming beautiful (in homage to Mr Cundall).


Sunday, 21 February 2010

Things I'm NOT going to miss about Japan

3. Workplace politics

It seems that it is a cultural thing. In Japan, positions do not come with written descriptions. And duties that might seem to not be your concern might become your concern if a certain person in a position of authority deems it so. Hence the phenomenon of English teachers handing out tissues at the station. This is a deliberate attempt to hamstring your ability to question the authority of your manager. "That's not part of my position description!" is not an acceptable retort even when asked to do something dangerous, demeaning, or downright stupid, because your position is whatever you are asked to do by your superiors.

Now, my Western sense of progress would suggest that perhaps this will change, but my jaded sense of Eikawa madness would tell me that this will definitely not change.

Change in my Australian workplaces was a constant and welcome force, blasting new efficiencies into every minute of every day. In Australia, pretty much no big companies use faxes anymore, and if they do, they're e-faxes, instantaneously filed in a TRIM record system, time stamped and electronically available instantaneously to multiple users. In Japan, the mindset is: "if we've never done it before then why would we do it now?" That seems to be a satisfactory argument for never trying it. It's not even a "if it's not broken, don't fix it" argument, because it can be broken for prolonged periods of time without being fixed because it's not the efficiency of the practice, but the unchangingness of it, that is seen to be the virtue. Thus, paper faxes sit on fax machines for weeks on end:

"We just received your resignation."
"I sent it 3 months ago!" (true story)

Hence extremely old fashioned practices remain in place in Japanese companies, far after they have been consigned to the dust bin elsewhere.

There is a hierarchy set in stone in almost every situation, and nowhere is this more apparent and unshakable than in the workplace. Seniority determines almost every move. The bottom of the pile is not a pleasant place to be, and junior employees wait with barely contained excitement for the next bus load of company juniors to be admitted, so that they can get off the bottom rung and start ascending the ladder. Career progression is highly predictable, regulated, and in most cases, automatic. Promotion is again based on years served, rather than merit. In front line Eikawa positions (teachers and staff members) staff turn over is so high that promotion is only ever achieved by very few people with the resilience to sit out the monstrous time in a junior position. New staff members with very little experience (and no job description to guide them) bungle their way through their extraordinarily long working days, making a mess of pretty much anything they touch (except sales). No one knows where anything is, or what they should be doing. A lot of energy is spent on looking busy. My inner cynic sometimes believes that "looking busy" takes up more hours of the average person's working day than actually doing anything productive.

Now, as far as the gravy train of English teaching in Japan is concerned, I believe that train has well and truly left the station. The "Bubble Economy" years of ridiculous high wages, short hours and long holidays are long gone. Your average English teacher works fairly hard for a moderate wage. Particularly on first arriving, English teachers are comfortably compensated in their first year, but as their living expenses (especially health and social insurance) increase with each year, what seemed like a relatively cushy salary, begins to look less viable as a long term prospect.

Particularly if you are a gifted teacher.

Because the final thing I have ascertained about corporate culture in Japan is that lazy workers get given less work, and good workers will be worked into an early grave. Now, my work ethic is like this: "I like being rewarded for hard work with leisure or perhaps cash-monies for a job well done." So rewarding hard work with more work doesn't sit particularly well with me. When my hard work gets me more work, but someone who "slobs around" all the time is not asked to do any work at all, for the same pay... well, I'm not up for it. So, if you are in Japan and you are identified as a competent person - Lord help you. You'll rest when you're dead.

Perhaps this culture of workmania is because the idea of leisure is a relatively new concept. The 5 day working week is only 40 or so years old in Japan, and still many people "choose" to put in birth rate crippling amounts of overtime, or work 6 days a week. Many public schools still operate 6 days a week. Leisure time is usually spent eating out or shopping (the two greatest joys of the average person's life) and thus time off is thought to be a thing to be avoided, because it is exhausting and expensive (unlike working, which apparently is not exhausting and saves money).

This is the sound of one hand napping whilst the other hand does all the work. I'm looking forward to going back to a real job.

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Music, sweet music...




Well, it's been a busy little week. Very, very busy.

We had our first night on the grog on Wednesday for this year. Reminded me why I've not been on the grog. A powerful and bombastic hangover ensued. I strained a muscle in my shoulder whilst being silly and drunk, and have yet to feel it fully heal.

Ah! She'll be right.

I say that because I have been reminded by Tom's recent trip to the doctors (with what was presenting as either tonsillitis or a cold) being quite traumatic. He was bombarded with questions that he couldn't understand, given treatments that he didn't understand either, and was told to come back the next day. He decided that it would be better for his health if he just had a lie in instead. Doctors that don't speak your language = stressful!

All health problems are being put off until we get back to Australia. I've had it with Japanese doctors. Japanese dentists are awesome, Japanese doctors are stressful.

So, anyway, the Wednesday drink was brought on by a gig. Leila was doing her first show, her solo performance called The Patty Hearst Noise Opera. I watched and took photos for Leila's Artists CV. There were some points that I thought were quite moving, hypnotic, interesting, and there were other bits where I was just wondering "what am I meant to be thinking about here?" I'm a bit simple when it comes to performance art. I don't really get it. But I think it might have been good.



Either way, with the entry to the venue, you get a free drink ticket. And that was my undoing. I spent the drink ticket on beer, and had a few more, and was suddenly on Father Jack's Rollercoaster of "drink! drink! drink!" After the gig I had the excellent idea of going to Bar Konton for a few extra drinks, and well, got completely hammered. It was at Bar Konton that I received the shoulder injury. I didn't really feel untoward until the next day when I felt like I'd been hit by a truck.

But I was having a happy hangover, so I went off and tried to make the most of the day. Only much later did I start to realise that I wasn't bouncing back from this.

On Friday I had one weird event lesson type thing, on Saturday they gave me three kids model lessons (!) and one event lesson (!!) - a move that I was kind of annoyed with because I was on that shift with someone who is a more than competent Kids teacher, that the branch have decided to go cold on, so instead of talking to him about it, they just loaded me with all the model lessons. Pretty pissed about that. Will be having firm words with said school this week.

The shoulder strain was a bit of bad timing, that's for sure. We had to play a gig on Sunday evening, and this gig was with bigger and better bands than we've played with since we left Australia, so we were really hoping to put on a good show. I rushed all the way from Kuzuha to Amemura carrying my stupid, heavy, piece of shit kick pedal with me to get there on time, and then realised that this venue doesn't do on-time, and I could have actually saved myself the hassle. Unfortunately, the stars were crossed unfavourably. The amp that was supplied at the venue was a Marshall JCM900 that shat itself every time Tom tried to apply the "big muff" to the sound. So when the music should have sounded louder, it ended up sounding quieter! What a pain! I couldn't get the drum kit to sit together in an ergonomically sensible lay out, and the snare skin looked older than Byōdō-in. No one seemed to be mixing us. Tom's vocals were too quiet, my snare wasn't cutting through. It took us two songs to really lock in, and by the end of the 5th song, I was quite tired from struggling against my injury and my less than ideal set up.

Lesson to be learned from this: soundcheck. YOU MUST SOUNDCHECK. It doesn't matter if everyone has to wait for a few minutes. It's better for all concerned if you soundcheck.

I'm not too disappointed because I think we still did a fairly intense and fierce looking performance, and those three songs in the middle had enough smack down in them to make up for the three that sandwiched them, but I would have liked to have done better.

That said, after the gig, the venue owner asked us to do another show in March. So, we went from "Last show" to "not last show" again! And then we got a call from a dude we met at the gig on Wednesday night asking us to do another show in Kyoto in April. People seem to like us even when we're not firing on all cylinders. How strange.

But I suppose that's it. Music is a powerful force. Surprising. Thought changing. Strong. Emotional. Physical. That's kind of what Thrall is about. Creating something Thrall inducing. To put yourself into a sort of trance and let the music overwhelm you, and your audience. When it works, it is truly gob-smacking. When it doesn't work, it's just another band.

I'm off to another Zeni Geva show tonight. I'm really excited about seeing them again. The last show was so good, and this show is at a much vibier venue, so hopefully they'll be laying the smack down in quantities that won't be able to be resisted by the audience. It's my turn to lay down my will to someone else's sound and feel the power of their 'thrall.'

Things I'm NOT going to miss about Japan

2. Noise pollution

Dudes with megaphones, cars or planes circling the neighbourhood with loud speakers, three stereos playing different loud and clashing jingles all in the one store. Musical garbage collection. Sirens. Yapping dogs and screaming children. Roaring freeways and slow revving motorcycles. Drunkards shouting in thick Kansai-ben, business men roaring on their cellphones, gaggles of schoolgirls bothering dogs with their high pitched yammering. Honking subway trains, automated announcements, alarms that appear to tell you that there's nothing to be alarmed about. Even nature is noisy with cicadas and frogs!

But don't talk at all on the commuter trains or you'll annoy someone.

Sheish.

If a tree falls in a forest and there's no one there to hear it, it wouldn't make any difference because no one could hear the sound of a tree falling for the rest of the din.

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Things I'm NOT going to miss about Japan

1. Being stared at.

I eat my breakfast at the local ticket restaurant, and I feel these eyes boring into the side of my head. I look up and there's a little old man, staring at me. When I look at him, he doesn't politely divert his eyes, as I would tend to do if someone caught me having a good old stare at them. Nup. He just keeps on staring and slurping curry (I'm not the freak dude! You're the one eating curry for breakfast! I'm eating eggs and sausage! That's normal breakfast food!) and staring and staring and staring. I can barely eat because I'm feeling so self conscious.
After my meal I check my make up in the bathroom just to make sure I haven't grown a second head or accidentally written "stare at me, please" on my forehead in eyeliner, but no, I'm not looking particularly weird. Just average. Showered. Dressed in work clothes. Dirty blonde hair and ruddy celto-gaulic complexion. Definitely don't require staring at.
I get on the train, and there's two people staring straight at me for the entirety of my hour long train journey. I try to keep myself busy in my book, but I can feel their eyes. I glance up occasionally, just to see if they're still putting in the massive amounts of psychic energy required to stare continuously at another human being, but they seem to be feeling no strain at all. Just staring away like crazy.
I get off the train, and a kid stares at me and follows me around the convenience store when I'm buying my lunch. Eyes like saucers. "Gaijin da...!"

And then I go to teach my classes and I can't get one of these ADD afflicted kids to pay attention to me when I'm talking. Not one.

Back to the gaijin's koen: If a gaijin is not there to witness gaijinised behaviour, do Nihonjin behave any differently at all?