Denki Groove: Hardest working electronica prankster in business

We were quite happy to see that the organizers revived the post-headliner party at the Green Stage on Sunday night. This year they asked those electronica pranksters to provide the music, perhaps as a nod to the fact that the group is celebrating their 25th year in show business, and they were perfect.

Denki Groove

Denki Groove | Mark Thompson photo

Sporting one of his famous top hats, Pierre Taki held the stage and the audience’s attention while partner Takkyu Ishino manned the boards, though he had a lot to add, vocally, to the performance. Of course, they played “Shangri-La” and all the hits, though at this point “hits” is a relative term for a group whose stage strategy is to be as spontaneous and in-the-moment as possible.

Denki Groove

Denki Groove | Mark Thompson photo

We were sort of wandering around, marveling at the variety of dancing that was going on. It was as if everyone had received a second (third?) wind that would blow them into the next week. First they have to make it to morning.

Kamasi Washington: Transported beyond heaven

Competing with both Babymetal and the Red Hot Chili Peppers is no mean feat, but, then again, saxophonist Kamasi Washington isn’t going to be particularly concerned with that since he’s a jazz musician who probably doesn’t think he’s up against anyone else but himself.

Kamasi Washington

Kamasi Washington | Mark Thompson photo

For sure, the crowd at the Field of Heaven for his Sunday night headlining show was sparser than normal, but the folks who showed up were treated to a monumental show of musicianship that didn’t stint on the spectacle. Washington, after all, has been instrumental in imbuing hip-hop with a potent jazz component, and he has taken back in equal amounts: the show at the Field of Heaven was dance delirium.

Kamasi Washington

Kamasi Washington | Mark Thompson photo

The large group didn’t really play that many songs, but everything was fortified with rhythmic intensity thanks to two drummers and an aesthetic that took black urban music for granted. “Rerun,” a typical R&B jam gradually evolved into a showcase for every soloist on the stage, including the seemingly teenage pianist. “My Hero,” a song dedicated to Washington’s grandmother that feature his own father on flute, churned into an emotional epiphany that left the crowd drained and wanting more.

Kamasi Washington

Kamasi Washington | Mark Thompson photo

Even the showcases for band members — the bassist who just released a solo album, the two drummers who were given a spotlight to challenge each other, the keyboardist known as “Mr. Boogie” — were expanded to include everyone on stage, and also everyone at once. The songs built into monumental things, and the audience, in addition to dancing their asses off, were compelled to absorb the musicianship, which was astounding and thrilling at the same time.

The band dug it. They provided an encore because the response was so overwhelming This wasn’t necessarily a crowd who were jazz aficionados. They like R&B, and can appreciate a good dance tune. But Kamasi gave them so much more: dancing that transcended mere bumping and grinding. They were transported.

Ernest Ranglin & Friends

The estimable reggae guitarist Ernest Ranglin held court at the Field of Heaven at 6 o’clock, just about the time it started drizzling for the first time this weekend. Thought the crowd was good, it obviously wasn’t as huge at the one waiting for Babymetal at the adjoining White Stage. So much the better for those of us who decided to stay for Ranglin. His “friends” turned out to be pretty impressive: Courtney Pine on winds, Tony Allen on drums, Ira Coleman on bass, Alex Wilson on keyboards, and, best of all, Chiekh Lo on vocals and a number of instruments.

Ranglin, of course, is one of the most respected session guitarists in the world, and while his bailiwick doesn’t necessarily inspire lots of excitement, that’s exactly what he delivered with the help of his friends. Though the crowd was sparse and the rain made people a little less relaxed than they would have been otherwise, as the hour-long set progressed people became more and more excited, and for good reason.

First of all, with Chiekh Lo as main vocalist (as well as second guitarist and percussionist) the show was guaranteed to be special, and when he launched into “Susanna,” a beat-heavy dance number that featured the dancer from Ndagga Rhythm Force carrying on by pulling Courtney Pine’s very long ponytail and riding piggyback on several members, the audience was hooked. But it was the quality of the jamming that made it special, and which actually forced an encore, something very rare at Fuji. The Field of Heaven, after all, was inaugurated as a haven for jam bands, and Ranglin & Friends justified that designation to the fullest. People couldn’t get enough.

Leon Bridges: The rebirth of cool

To say that Leon Bridges is a throwback would be something of an understatement. His brand of soul is the type that prefigured soul as a genre. Though Sam Cooke is his obvious model, what he takes from Cooke is the pop sense of someone who saw rock ‘n’ roll as the next big thing, Leon Bridges is a rock ‘n’ roll singer.

Leon Bridges

Leon Bridges | Mark Thompson photo

He took the stage at the Field of Heaven in a spiffy preppy getup, two-tone shoes, cool shades, and with the hippest dance steps from Texas. He slides and grooves to a different drummer, so to speak, and often you get the feeling that his feet are way ahead of his brain. The crowd dug the whole effect, but you could tell they didn’t know who this handsome drink of water was. And while Bridges’ forte is the romantic ballad (many of which were about his family), it was the boogie woogie and upbeat R&B numbers that won them over in a very big way.

Leon Bridges

Leon Bridges | Mark Thompson photo

Of course, it’s never difficult to get Japanese audiences to wave their hands and clap along, but once Bridges started to increase the tempo and the intensity halfway through his set, the crowd suddenly pushed closer to the stage and followed every note and step. It wasn’t as resolutely funky as Con Brio was the day before, but in its own loose-limbed way it was more fun. “These are beautiful people,” he said, ignoring the beautiful scenery, which was just too obvious. He didn’t come for the scenery, and the crowd didn’t know what hit them.

Soil & “Pimp” Sessions

Like Rovo, the Tokyo club jazz sextet, Soil & “Pimp” Sessions, seems to play Fuji every year, and they’ve attracted a loyal following among regulars who probably don’t normally listen to jazz; but, then, the band is so versatile they can play practically any kind of music, and often do.

Soil & “Pimp” Sessions

Soil & “Pimp” Sessions | Mark Thompson photo

Lead by the DJ who calls himself Shacho (president), who doesn’t play an instrument but acts as emcee and stage personality wielding a megaphone, the group’s legendary live shows are built around free form jams based on popular and original tunes and using audience interaction as prompted by Shacho. They’re the perfect Fuji act because they adapt to every situation as it happens.

The operative word is loud. Even when they occasionally play a slow number it’s pretty much in your face, especially sax player Motoharu and frenetic trumpeter Tabu Zombie. That these guys can play ear-splitting notes without blaring speaks to their skills.

Soil & “Pimp” Sessions

Soil & “Pimp” Sessions | Mark Thompson photo

Shacho’s speciality is complex singalongs, a kind of festival cliche but one that’s reduced to a science. At one point he had the huge crowd at the  White Stage divided into various camps and singing several parts, and every did it…their part, that is. “Look at that sun,” Shacho said, “look at that sky.” It explained the good mood, which explained the cooperation, which explained why Fuji is unique and wonderful.

Deafheaven: Stoke the mosh pit

Just as Rhythm & Funk were the main musical themes at the eastern end of the festival yesterday, today the main theme seems to be hard rock, or, at least, it is at the White Stage. Following Bo Ningen’s set, San Francisco band Deafheaven reigned with an interesting blend of metal attitude and shoegazey drone.

Deafheaven

Deafheaven | Mark Thompson photo

The band’s vocalist, George Clarke, sings with that carcinogenic growl that death metal singers like so much, which means you can’t understand a word he’s saying. Though the band’s press materials mention death and depression, he could have been singing about Pokemon for all we knew. The band behind him kept up a repetitive two-chord hum that ebbed and flowed, eventually breaking into a sustained metal thrash.

Deafheaven

Deafheaven | Mark Thompson photo

Clarke, dressed in black, would gesticulate and conduct imaginary musicians, sometimes kneeling when he wanted to particularly make a point that we couldn’t understand anyway. His dancing was . . . unique. And at the end of every song he would punch his chest. At first we thought he was trying to hurt himself, but he was only expressing his solidarity with the audience.

As with Bo Ningen, the audience was pretty much just waiting to act out, and during Deafheaven’s own apocalyptic closer, the mosh pit overflowed like a busted dam, and whatever it was that Clarke was trying to communicate, it obviously made the intended effect. Guys emerged from the scrim punching the air in triumph. It’s great to win.

This weather

This is the 18th Fuji Rock we’ve attended, and we would have to admit the weather was never this good. Of course, there’s still one more day to go, and mountain weather is infamous for changing on a dime, but based on the quality of the clouds in the sky right now, it doesn’t seem likely. Even in the past when the weather was generally good, it usually rained at least once. So far, nothing.

The problem with that is the dust. Usually, the organizers are careful to spread water on the paths and in front of the stages to keep the dust down, but we haven’t seen anything like that yet. Then there’s also the danger of dehydration, and there are lots of announcements to drink enough liquids, which, of course, you have to pay for. We’ve already seen a few people being carried to the first aid stations.

Don’t get us wrong, we’re not complaining, but sometimes a little squall is just the thing to break the heat. Besides, we want to try out our new rain coats.

Bo Ningen: The time of their lives

London-resident but Japan-born, the dark psychedelic quartet, Bo Ningen, opened the White Stage on Sunday morning under a blazing sun and in front of smattering of people who managed to wake up early. Dressed characteristically in black–except for guitarist Yuki Tsuji who wore bright red–and with enough hair to to launch a J-horror franchise, the band looked out of place in the stark light of day, but they hardly cared.

Bo Ningen

Bo Ningen | Mark Thompson photo

In fact, leader-bassist Taigen Kawabe sounded particularly excited to be back in Japan and at Fuji in particular. His keening, mostly meaningless singing cut through the group’s harsh, swirling sound. It’s punishing, but not without humor.

Bo Ningen

Bo Ningen | Mark Thompson photo

Still, the thing about a Bo Ningen show is the last song, which grows into a massive thing that takes on a life of its own. The crowd which had been waiting patiently in front of the stage quickly formed a mosh pit and went sailing over the barrier, only to run around and do it again. It seemed way too hot for this sort of thing, but everybody seemed to be having the time of their life. Kawabe eventually joined them down in the photographers pit, egging them on and screeching at the top of his lungs. A huge cloud of dust kicked up above the mosh pit. Where are the water cannons when you need them?

Smart Soul Connection

Never heard of Smart Soul Connection? Think Peter Sellers meets the blues in a Showa Era lounge. Lyrics often amounted to just one word – SPYS! – shouted at the appropriate intervals.

For the finale, the singer jumped into the crowd and spread the gospel of the blues harp. We say Amen to that.

Beck: The conversation

We didn’t know that Beck was schedule to play the first Fuji Rock Festival in 1997. We assume that he was on the doomed second day, which was cancelled due to a typhoon. In any case, he mentioned this fact near the beginning of his headlining show at the Green Stage Saturday night, a fully pop showcase of the artist’s career highs, a greatest hits show if there ever was one. Naturally, the audience loved it, but what did it say about Beck’s legacy as an alternative artist?

Beck

Beck | Mark Thompson photo

He almost threw away the first three songs, as if he wanted to get them over with: “Devil’s Haircut,” “Black Tambourine,” and “Loser,” that latter a song that become so iconic that when the audience dutifully chanted the chorus in accordance with Beck’s wishes — “I’m a lost baby, so why don’t you kill me” — you couldn’t decide if you should choke up or be depressed.

Beck

Beck | Mark Thompson photo

Part of the problem is the way he assumed the guise of a superstar; dressed mostly in black, with a polka-dot shirt, Beatle boots and black fedora, his pimp-like aura emphasized his regret at having not been born a black man. The blues and soul tropes he appropriated so freely in his career were showcased openly during his set. Though “Sea Change” and “Morning Phase” are the albums that garnered the bulk of praise for their quiet, contemplative mood, “Midnite Vultures,” his ode to black music, was the album he referenced the most this time. His gospel chops were whiter than Wonder Bread, but they were also thrilling.

Beck

Beck | Mark Thompson photo

And despite the awkward attempts at “authenticity” it worked, mainly because he was so sincere in his desire to both entertain and make a connection with an audience he obviously cherished. At the end of the set, during “Two Turntables and a Microphone,” he sat down (after having conspicuously changed into an ensemble that exchanged the monochrome cast of his previous clothing into something patterned on red) and discussed his relationship with Japan, as if it were something we really cared about. We don’t think anybody did, but the fact that he went out of his way to express that, “If I could, I’d just like to sit here and have a conversation with all of you.”

Actually, that’s what the whole concert way: a conversation that everyone got. Nobody wanted him to be anyone except who he was, regardless of his own insecurities.

Wilco: ‘It doesn’t get any better than this’

Beefy, behatted and beaming, Wilco leader Jeff Tweedy took the Green Stage at sunset on a cool, green evening. Throughout the band’s 90-minute set he seemed at once at peace and energized. As usual, he didn’t say much beyond the usual thank yous, but he repeatedly tipped his hat to the audience and at one point offered up the opinion that “it doesn’t get any better than this.”

The feeling was mutual. Wilco is one of those rare bands who can’t do wrong because their approach is quality: If you can’t make something fantastic, then don’t do anything at all.

Wilco

Wilco | Mark Thompson photo

At the end of “I’m Trying to Break Your Heart,” he muttered “goodbye” and tipped his hat, as if in recognition to the audience’s attention. In the monumental “Via Chicago,” one of those characteristic Wilco songs that combine anodyne musical sentiments with discordant bipolar dissonance, he seemed resigned to the song’s hard rock prerogatives. The audience, who knew the song instinctually, raved when drummer Glenn Ktche freaked out in his normal way. The light was brighter. The world was livelier.

It was a mellower set than the one they did at the White Stage some ten years ago, and yet more intense, owing perhaps to Tweedy’s disposition to make sure this audience was thoroughly incorporated into the Wilco aesthetic. In the tougher number, Nels Cline showed off his particularly classical lead guitar skills. The freakouts were fully appreciated. Is Wilco the Grateful Dead’s successor as the greatest American band?

With his battered jacket and Big Bill Broonzy t-shirt, Tweedy was the ultimate alt-rock dork, but there was nothing precious about the performance. Whatever his demons, Tweedy seemed happy to be here, and we were extremely happy to have him. He honored the setting and the circumstances with great, transporting music.

Con Brio / The Heavy

Continuing with the funk/R&B theme over at the east end of the festival, Con Brio tried to top their extraordinary performance at the prefest party on Thursday night, and came pretty damn close. The crowd at the Field of Heaven wasn’t quite as stoked as the crowd at the Red Marquee, but it’s difficult to compare. The prefest party is all about anticipation. During the festival itself you have to prove yourself, and they did.

Lead singer Ziek McCarter was in his best Michael Jackson mood, spinning and sashaying and bumping and grinding and whooping to beat the band, which is difficult to do in this case since the band is so intensely funky. Thanks to a particularly loud and energetic sound check, a lot of people sauntering by from the Orange Cafe and Cafe de Paris decided to stick around, and they were quite satisfied. From the very first notes, the crowd was pumping and dancing.

Con Brio

Con Brio | Mark Thompson photo

There was also a lot more jamming than there was at the Red Marquee, which is appropriate for the Field of Heaven, which was baptized by Phish in 1999. During “When the Sun Goes Down,” not only did McCarter get the crowd clapping louder than anytime I’ve heard in recent years, but every member took an extended solo. (Personally, we could have done with the synth solo) The atmosphere became so intense, security started asking people sitting down to get up and remove their chairs. There were thinking about the people who wanted to squeeze in and boogie, but, by rights, those people should not have been sitting down during such a show in the first place.

“This is the most beautiful place we’ve ever played,” McCarter said at one point, echoing more than one act we’ve seen during this festival alone. Their enthusiasm matched the hyperbole.

Since they’re from San Francisco, Con Brio’s version of JB’s “It’s a Man’s World” was reconfigured as “It’s a Woman’s World,” a slight blasphemy that we let slide. No such transgression was evident from The Heavy, the estimable hard R&B band from England, who was making their second appearance at Fuji Rock, and leader Kelvin Swaby made it a point to say that every chance he got.

The Heavy

The Heavy | Mark Thompson photo

After the requisite, “this is the greatest fucking festival in the world,” Swaby repeatedly propped for the band’s new album, asking the crowd, somewhat ingenuously if they wanted to hear songs from it, as if they had a choice. In any case, they complied, even when Swaby kept instructing them how to singalong or react to certain lyrics in songs.

“When I say ‘cut it,’ go crazy,” he commanded, and people went crazy in their own fashion during the funk workout. During a Springsteeny R&B number, the crowd was asked to repeat certain lines, which they did. Gotta love the Japanese fan.

The Heavy

The Heavy | Mark Thompson photo

For what it’s worth, the show picked up a sizable crowd as the set progressed and the sun started setting in the west. It was a beautiful scene and the music eventually justified all the fussiness. Funk is like that.

Zainichi Funk: We got the …

People will tell you that the Japanese can’t do funky. Obviously, that’s a stereotype that’s been around too long. At the very least, Japanese are no less funky than white people, which may not be saying much, but if you hear someone say “Japanese folk just ain’t got the funk!”, play them some Zainichi Funk.

Zainichi Funk

Zainichi Funk | Mark Thompson photo

“Zainichi” means “resident in Japan, and Zainichi Funk’s music takes Japanese themes and motifs and funkifies them. Understanding the above–mentioned prejudice, however, they have fun with the concept. Leader Kenta Hamano, for instance, has all the JB moves down, but he doesn’t make any sort of claim to doing them well. His splits and dance steps are more like JL (Jerry Lewis) than JB, but he also adds stuff that’s completely his own, like this stuttery thing on tip toes. And while his singing isn’t going to give Bobby Byrd anything to worry about, he commands a charming vibrato that adds a bit of sassiness to his delivery. And we love his strawberry sherbet suit. He also does his patter in purposely bad English. “So, you wanna call and response?” he yelled. “Let’s call-and-response.” He then gave the audience an almost impossible tongue twister.

Zainichi Funk

Zainichi Funk | Mark Thompson photo

Jokes aside, though, the band is tough. During their afternoon set on the White Stage they sampled every brand of funk, from JB’s “Super Bad,” to funkified versions of kayokyoku (traditional Japanese pop). One song, a smooth R&B jamm called “Kyoto” trotted out all the Japanese streotypes in another call-and-response gambit. “Pokemon,” “Nintendo,” “ninja,” etc. The audience loved it at by the end of the 45-minute set the crowd had overflowed the borders of the venue. They know who’s got the funk.

Vant

The one problem with not having any rain is that the festival grounds get really dry and dusty. We woke up this morning coughing like Philip Marlowe, and when we blew our nose, it was practically black.

Speaking of snotty, Vant, the 4-piece group from “planet earth,” roused the crowd at the White Stage from their lunchtime doldrums with a smart set of short, fast, loud songs that combined the power chord popistry of classic grunge and the lighter side of the pre-millennial punk revival. Though the band is actually from London, leader Mattie Vant sings like a bratty American, which, combined with the refreshingly cutting political bent of his writing, makes you think he went to high school in Berkeley.

Still, the flannel shirt on such a day was bit much, and we were immensely relieved when he took it off after the third song. An antic performer and a cleverly economical hard rock guitarist, Vant doesn’t mince words. “Stop living in fear,” went one chorus, “and put down your gun.” Another one simply stated, “I don’t believe in God.”

The ecumenical flavor of the lyrics matched his stage demeanor, which tended toward hyperbole. “This is the most beautiful place we’ve ever played,” he said, staring up at the trees, “but it’s not just the view. It’s the company, too.” Awww, shucks. At the end of the blistering 45-minute set, the crowd had doubled in size and Vant was inspired toward more love. “This is the best show we’ve ever played.”

Mark Ernestus' Ndagga Rhythm Force

Since we’re not familiar with electronic artist Mark Ernestus, we’re not sure exactly why his name is attached to the African group, since he was nowhere to be seen during the Field of Heaven performance at noon on Saturday. It hardly mattered. Though the group has a guitarist and a keyboard player, per their name, this is all about rhythm in all its glorious complexity.

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The sun was beating down, and quite a few of the people who gathered looked as if they had had long nights. But as the band came out, one by one, and kept adding to the deceptively simple pattern launched by the kit drummer, everything fell into place, and by the time the vocalist arrived to get everyone clapping and dancing, they already were.

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Then a dancer with preternaturally supple limbs came out gyrating wildly and throwing candy to the audience. The interaction was complete, because this wasn’t just a bunch of musicians playing for a crowd. Everything and everybody was connected, and while we don’t think it was completely improvised it looked, sounded, and tasted like total spontaneity. The talking drum spoke volumes as one of the drummers and the dancer put on a contest that ended in a wrestling match. Drummers changed places with other drummers without dropping the beat. The singer chanted and laughed and kept the audience in the loop. It was already hot, and just kept getting hotter. (text: Philip Brasor; photos: Mark Thompson)

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Sigur Ros

Obviously, no one came to headliner Sigur Ros’s show on Friday night to dance. Still, there was quite a bit of spectacle. It took the Icelandic group’s large crew more than an hour to set up their stage set. It was as they were building a house. When the band took the stage they were only half visible, because the front of the structure had a kind of louvered surface with tons of LEDs. It was as if you were watching them play behind a sparkling venetian blind. 

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Over the course of their show this structure gradually fell away, though we couldn’t tell you how, but eventually they were exposed for all to see, sawing away at their instruments and keening in that uniquely wild fashion. The visuals didn’t stop with the set, though. 

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The giant monitors on the sides of the stage showed images of the band that had been radically processed–something they looked like skeletons, other times like ghosts, which simply added to the group’s somewhat self-conscious anonymity. Only the music had character, and whether you like that kind of ethereal psychedelia, it was a real show. (text: Philip Brasor; photos: Mark Thompson)

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James Blake

Sometimes circumstances conspire to create the perfect show. Though we’ve always been less than enthusiastic about the art of James Blake, the British singer who configures conventional R&B tropes into electronica expressions, we admire him for his earnestness and his ability to convey that earnestness into heartfelt emotion.

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Circumstances did conspire on Friday night. The weather was partly overcast, but the setting sun made itself known. Moreover, Blake made it clear that regardless of the specific situations of which he sang, he was talking about things everyone could relate to. He thanked the audience in Japanese for showing up and said what an honor it was to play in Japan, as if he’s been asked to perform by the Emperor. But he was sincere, and that sincerity came through in interesting ways. On record you tend to notice the electronic processing, but live everything felt immediate and unfiltered. The lighting was clear and unfussy, and the sentiments were just as comprehensible. We stood on the top of the hill to the left of the stage, listening to those pure feelings for more than an hour and didn’t really want to leave. (text: Philip Brasor; photos: Mark Thompson)

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Suchmos

Continuing with the “urban” theme that would prevail at the White Stage during the afternoon, Kanagawa Prefecture’s Suchmos played a well-received set of quiet storm, funky pop, and jazzy R&B. Lead singer Yonce strutted like Teddy, and though his relatively thin voice didn’t convey the kind of sex-you-up vibe his body was trying to sell, the band was up to the challenge and a fairly good crowd accumulated as the set progressed. (text: Philip Brasor; photo: Mark Thompson)

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Little Creatures

Takuji Aoyagi is a misleadingly simple guitarist. He purposely writes melodies with lots of repetitive noes and phrases, and while he sings in a pleasant tenor and knows how to rock out and even get funky, his trio, Little Creatures, do very little of what you would call sololing, though, in principle, they’re an instrumental band. Deceptively skilled musicians, they build on these repetitive patterns to create moods that they then manipulate at will.

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Under an occasionally blazing sun, they cut a striking figure on the Field of Heaven stage, and while no one really danced, the solid rhythms of bassist Masato Suzuki and drummer Tsutomu Kurihara worked their magic on Aoyagi’s patterns. Sometimes, when they hit a climax the crowd would gasp. Not exactly jamming, Little Creatures nevertheless kept us guessing, and always seemed to have the right answer in the end. (text: Philip Brasor; photos: Mark Thompson)

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Boredoms

The 20th Fuji Rock Festival started the same way the last 19 did, with announcements from NGOs about recycling and donating to disaster relief funds. etc. The two grizzled emcees joked a little less this year, but managed to mention the fact that Pokemon Go finally launched in Japan this morning.

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Given Boredoms’ sense of mischief you might have expected them to somehow incorporate Pikachu into their act. For sure, they seemed an odd choice to kick off the festival on the Green Stage. Boredoms’ monumental drum circle thing seems better suited for the night, and while the air was cool, the sun was intense. In such a bucolic setting chanting and howling had an even more shamanistic cast to it, and what was so interesting about the visual aspect was the mundane nature of the instruments, many of which were just metal hardware. You could do this at home, but don’t. The neighbors will be pissed.

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Maybe Eye Yamataka is making his bid to be the successor to the late Kiyoshiro Imawano, the mayor of Fuji Rock. Of course, Boredoms’ style has nothing to do with Kiyoshiro’s rock’n soul hybrid, but if you wanted a clean break to welcome in the next 20 years, you couldn’t ask for anything starker. (text: Philip Brasor; photos: Mark Thompson)

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Keen for a day

 

We were pleasantly surprised to see that Keen shoes had a booth this year at the festival, just east of the Green Stage area. We always wear Keen hiking boots at the festival and they’ve never let us down, despite all the walking we do over the course of the festival. Even more interesting is that the booth offers shoes for rent…or maybe we should say they lend shoes, since they don’t charge you for their use. Sandals, too, though we tend to shy away from sandals because pebbles always find their way in. Of course, the purpose is to get you to like the shoes so that you’ll eventually buy a pair. We’re already sold.