Fujirockers: The official fansite of the Fuji Rock Festival

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Best Shows:

Fishbone tore my brain off.

John Fogerty has so many classic songs, and he plays them with such love and gratitude.

Them Crooked Vultures rocks hard, and were compelling even playing all-new material that most people didn’t know well. Dave Grohl and Josh Homme just have so much bad-assery between them.

Greatest ambivalence:

Jamie Cullum wins epically and fails hard, generally doing one then the other then the first again, in a constant cycle until his set ends.

Matt & Kim had me falling completely in love with their insane sincerity and enthusiasm at their first show at Gypsy Avalon, and then feeling rather creeped out when Continue Reading…

Thom Yorke

What I do like, of course, is Thom Yorke, a genius whom I had never seen live, and Flea, also quite great, so I don’t fault myself for making the mistake of requesting to cover this set. But still, The Eraser? This was a dull, dull record. Not a bad record, mind you, just a niche record, a bedroom record, to be greatly beloved by a few, and certainly not meant for the Green Stage on any night of the weekend.

So, you know where I’m coming from here, and consider yourself warned that you might prefer reading Clay’s excellent preview if you liked the show (or if you just like bagging on Gene Simmons). (And you are not a good human being if you don’t like bagging on Gene Simmons.)

My first time to see him live, it is clear that Yorke must have long since been welcomed by Dylan and Springsteen into the pantheon of unlikely superstars. Looking like a hobo John McEnroe (unshaven, unkempt, headband, etc.), his movements are not graceful, but hunched and greasy, almost golem-like. He struts about a bit like a slutty 1970’s secretary who knows she is too smart for the glass ceiling (a.k.a., Rod Stewart). Except, again, he looks like a hobo John McEnroe golem, which makes it a little creepy. Good thing talent still counts for something in this world. And shame on you all for thinking about such low matters.
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A-Seed volunteers. I believe the young man in the corner is doing his job and picking something up, in spite of appearances.

My friend Sarah reported earlier about her experience as a garbage sorter at the Summer Camp music festival north of Chicago, as a comparison to our experiences in Japan, and I finally managed to rustle up some concrete info on the Fuji Rock side of things this past weekend, thanks to Tokiko Djakovacki from A-Seed, the Japan-based international NPO that has managed the refuse at Fuji since the beginning (and that manages it at many other music festivals and ‘youth culture’ events), who graciously agreed to speak with me during her dinner hour Sunday night.

At Fuji, the mantra is “gomizero”, “gomi” meaning “garbage”, indicating their desire to recycle 100% of the waste here. To accomplish this, A-Seed has a staff of 230 volunteers there just for the festival, plus 50 permanent A-Seed volunteers. The volunteers work two four-hour shifts on small teams, and have the rest of the time to enjoy the festival.

Needless to say, the operation runs pretty smoothly and seamlessly; the most obviously public activity of the volunteers is to stand at the garbage and recycling stands and direct festival-goers to place each item in the correct bag. This results in most of the garbage being sorted at the outset, a stark contrast to Sarah’s experience at Summer Camp, where she felt she accomplished little at the stands and did most of the work sorting garbage after the fact at the vomit-inducing sorting tent.
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Naruyoshi Kikuchi

9:50pm at Orange Court on Sunday night can be a lonely place to be, but a band like this sextet is tailor-made for this world. It’s avant-jazz of the type that drives many people to madness, and others to slack-jawed awe.

They are actually a pretty straightforward acoustic jazz quintent at bottom, with piano, upright bass, drums, trumpet, and sax (bandleader Kikuchi). The sex- arrives with the “Dub” part of their name, a fellow named Kimura Purdum behind a massive 25-inch monitor and who-knows-what toys connected to it. He produced squeals with sudden staccato stops, with bits repeated, backtracked and twisted about, presumably all in the service of upping how jarring a standard acoustic ensemble can be.

And they were most definitely doing it right, because it wasn’t polite. The dynamic range was huge, and the horn players were busting lips. The number I walked in was the definition of slinky, with periodic walking bassline breaks that had me looking for the raccoon-masked 1960’s diamond thief in our midst. The rhythms mostly swung like the early 60’s, but altogether the proceedings had the darkness of late-60’s fusion.
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Spencer drew a sparse and tired crowd at the intimate Gypsy Avalon

Everybody and his uncle was watching LCD Soundsystem a hundred meters away at the White Stage, but I reckon they were missing out. And I’m not just saying that because I need a hook for a story. I’m saying that because I don’t really like LCD Soundsystem. I thought with a name like “Spencer” it would just be some dude with an acoustic guitar warbling bedroom love songs in a language I don’t understand (that would be Japanese), but I heard the post-rock drumming and twittery electronics and I was like, damn, now I’ma have to get up out my hammock to see what’s going on over there.

Reverb heavy, Sigur Ros slow, repetitive simple acoustic arpeggios, and moody like 2010, I was feeling well relaxed when I had to get up and go to Atoms For Peace after only ten minutes. And I’ll let you in on a secret: the hammock was a little better than Spencer (sorry guys, but I’m sure you understand: it was a hammock), and Spencer was a lot better than Atoms. Seems I did everything backwards. Le sigh…

-Kern

photo by kouji. more here

(And you know you want to see a picture of me in that hammock: Continue Reading…

Rostam Batmanglij

I was worried Vampire Weekend might be a dull live show, even though their records have all kinds of energy, based on live videos and comments I’d seen online. False alarm though; the band was well into it, and Ezra Koenig was positively loose as he lead them through the set, every bit the attractive and charming rich best friend everybody wants to have. No sadism and just a little sarcastic, but the kind that compliments your intelligence rather than insults.

Glad they got the Green Stage, too, as grand is the appropriate size for their party, and while the sun is still up is the perfect time. (You gotta be able to imagine yourself on a sailboat or beachside or somewhere else sunny and privileged). Great sound too, with Chris Thomson’s propulsive drumming and every staccato guitar note cutting through like a skiff at the Cape.

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I thought this was going to be a rather faceless Japanese band (Of what kind? With a name like that? Dub?) when they marched onstage looking like they had just taken the train from Shibuya. And then I saw the string quartet warming up in full chamber music finery. Ah, a faceless Japanese band with class. Nice.

The strings couldn’t much be heard once the band started, but with a flautist, trumpet player, a very excitable boy standing (not sitting) behind the drum kit, and a generally happy man sitting (not standing) behind the congas and percussion, plus assorted guitars and keys, what they are is a dance and party band, big pop-band celebration music (a little disco, a little ska, a little punk, even a little hardcore) that I just realized I see a lot of in Japan. Only took me ten years to spot this trend. Somebody call Newsweek and ask them if they need a Japan correspondent. Continue Reading…

This was actually kind of hot

We always tell everyone to go to the Palace of Wonder after hours, that you’ll often have your best time of the festival. It’s probably a blessing that so few listen, because it always seems to be just the right amount of packed. But, once more, I’d like to point out that this is the kind of weird crap you can see there: a lithe long-haired dude in a creepy Jason mask dancing to Upside Down with any and all comers at Vegas In Milk, mostly guys as it happened. (Can’t blame the ladies…that mask just screams ’stranger danger’) The guy had some sick moves, and it all made me feel very very happy.

Those eyes...so dead...like windows to an empty soul...

-Kern

A few of my mates have been begging me to reconsider Mustang after slagging their Thursday night festival kick-off at the Red Marquee. I gave them their shot at redemption (like they care) for their 1:30 am Crystal Palace set. Because, hey, if you can’t rock the palace, what can you rock?

Philosophy aside, I think I’ve distilled the essence of Mustang: rockabilly attitude without rockabilly energy. But then, what do you expect from the French, Dave Grohl? It’s probably my expectations that are out of whack, demanding that they be something they didn’t set out to be, just because someone attached the term “rockabilly” to them. I mean, what kind of rockabilly band gripes about their drum machine being down? (You can take that question any way you like). It’s me being the curmudgeon in the corner, whilst everyone else has their good time without over-thinking it. The crowd wasn’t moving like they did for Räfven last year, but I reckon what they were doing can still be called movement.

-Kern

photo by naota

Angelo Moore And John Norwood Fisher

Ladies and gentlemen, Fishbone came tonight for a naz-tee naz-tee show. They brought your fightin’ hos. They brought your lyin’ ass bitches. And yes, they brought your date rapin’ mutherfuckers. Here to fulfill all your skaaanking needs.

They started with their excellent later-date reggae Suffering, and the air was already electric. The crowd came ready, and with that kind of enthusiasm on a mid-tempo groover (but damn, it was a deeeeep groove), we knew this was something special. Dave leaned over and said “This is going to get insane in a second.” Dave was right.

Their timing was impeccable, with an extended jam on Everyday Sunshine getting a sizable and energetic pit going right away, and Ma and Pa just absolutely pummeling it home. It wasn’t just the song selection though; the full force of their unique Fishboney character and energy gave us a good wallop from note one, and had everyone grinning ear-to-ear. I could try to describe it to you, but better to just go listen to their first three or four records. Continue Reading…

Jaime Cullum

The first thought that popped into my head as I approached the Green Stage Saturday afternoon and heard a vocal wafting through the trees was “damn, that kid does have a good set of pipes”. It caught me unawares, and you can’t deny your subconscious when that happens. (Blink bitch, blink!) Cullum’s voice has got the silky, it’s got the grit, and it spreads like apple butter.

He and his band were a five-piece this time (last time he was at Fuji it was as a trio), with upright bass and drums, and variously percussion (congas), horns, and Rhodes keyboard, with Cullum on piano.

Although he didn’t stay there. He was up and down the whole show, and I hate to throw sewage on his sundae, Continue Reading…

Susan Tedeschi And Derek Trucks

I’ve already done a pretty extensive overview of Derek Trucks and Susan Tedeschi here. I was curious to see what kind of crowd they would draw here, as I don’t believe they travel abroad much, so whatever fans they have in Japan would be hell-bent on catching this show.

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Christian Vander sat at what looked like a Yamaha electric mini-grand in t-shirt sans sleeves, hunched over and haggard like a certain someone from Notre Dame. I admit I was hoping for some drums, but I reckon his band Magma the day before was the place to see that.

Tom Waits would be the go-to Anglophone comparison for anyone who plays weird and moody songs on a piano, but I’d be revealing my ignorance if I settled for that. It was the kind of music you’d imagine an eccentric and lonely rich man playing, alone by candlelight in a dungeon somewhere, periodically laying his head on the keys in despair. (Wasn’t there a Muppet skit like that once?) All very down-tempo and moody, in English, French, and some Mel Torme meets Speaking In Tongues scat.

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...Everybody Thinks It's True

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Not sure what these girls were doing. Just being cute I guess.

The river under the bridge just before the White Stage is a perennial favorite hang-out at the fest. Full size photos of the throngs frolicking after the jump! It looks so refreshing I can’t believe I’m in here just writing about it! Continue Reading…

Kosaka Chu (with Suzuki Shigeru and Nakao Tokuo) brought his Christian message to the Fest early Saturday afternoon at the Gypsy Avalon. I’m not sure how many people were attuned to the message, or if it was just the music, but there was a sizable crowd down front standing up for him. Perhaps a dedicated cohort.

For me, who did not understand the message anyway, it went down like this: They’ve got acoustic guitars. They’ve got a djembe. They play a song that sounds a little like Desperado. A little slide guitar, a little blues noodle. Chu sing “What A Wonderful World” like Peter Tosh. It’s actually a good vocal timbre for it. Just another laconic Saturday afternoon at the Gypsy Avalon…

-Kern

photo by fukano terumi. more here

How Many BSSsters Can You Find In This Picture? (Answer On Page 32)

Broken Social Scene reaffirmed my faith in Fuji Rock crowds. They packed in pretty tightly for this Red Marquee set, and danced and shouted along to even the most obscure rhythms and melodies, whether 8 years old or 4 months young. They just love music. To the band’s credit, the new album Forgiveness Rock Record is easy to like.

Kevin Drew was gracious and appreciative throughout. Some quotes: “We’re Broken Social Scene and we believe in every single fucking one of you!” “Be careful. Be good to people. Drink enough water. And most important, forgive yourselves.” And apropos of his thankfulness at getting to do what he does, “As you get older you appreciate a lot of things, including saxophone.” I hear dat.

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A Food Court Open For Grazing

There’s only so much epic music a man or woman can handle in a single night, and after Them Crooked Vultures* and Broken Social Scene I was epic’d'out, so Muse was out of the question. Instead, I had dinner. With everyone at the festival at either Muse or !!! (or further afield), the food court was empty, and I had the rare treat of selecting the perfect meal from multiple vendors. This will heretofore be a thing which I do at Fuji Rock, take advantage of the empty food stalls while the main attractions are drawing the attention of the rabble.

Then I sat down and took in a bit of Yuzoband at the Shokudo stage.

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He was enjoying Zappa so much I didn’t have the heart to stop and ask his name.

Once I was at a BMX race when I was about 12 and I saw this Journey hat for sale at a stand, and I really wanted it and I asked my mom and she was just about to buy it for me but then it turned out it was kind of dirty and so she didn’t. I’ve never told that story to anyone before. Also: I don’t even wear hats!

-Kern

Dweezil Brings The Zappa Joie De Vivre...

Zappa is the other end of virtuosity from toe. Or maybe that’s Yes I’m thinking of. Or maybe they form a triangulation. I don’t know.

From afar Dweezil and his band can fool you into thinking they’re just laconically going through the motions. But step into the sweet spot and you can feel the giant shit-eating smirk in every note they play and sing. Ben Thomas sings Frank’s ridonkulous lyrics with total dedication. Give him a line like “guacamole green”, which he had to repeat twice, slowly and clearly, during a lull in the music, and he’ll point at a general location in the audience (takes too much commitment to pick out one person) and give a wink and a nod like, “Yeah, I just said that. I did.”

Even the way drummer Joe Travers was hitting his toms made me laugh. Dweezil is doing exactly the right thing with his life right now: the spirit of Frank is present wherever they go, even if they couldn’t project his image on a screen at this show.

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I’ve already said most of what I want to say about toe here and here, but I’ll just add this nugget: they didn’t disappoint. It was a 3:40 pm show at the white stage, darkening skies but no rain (that would come torrentially about an hour later, at the tail end of Zappa). It’s hard to get it to where you can hear precisely every note a band plays on a stage the size of white, but it was close enough this time. Luckily toe isn’t just about the torrents of notes they play, but the emotion as well. There was even some dancing going on–drummer Kashikura Takashi manages to maintain the straight down- and up- beat groove, even with the flurry of notes in between.

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The Drum Master At The Stone Circle

The Fuji Rock grounds used to end at the Orange Court, but I’d heard tell of rumors of some newer locales beyond, though I had not yet had a chance to see them. About a seven minute walk on the hill behind the crowd at Orange you reach The Fiesta Cabaret and Stone Circle. The Cabaret is an indoor tent with a wall full of tequila (natch) and a small stage. Here’s some images for the curious:

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Frosty (Half-)Pints At The International Food Court

Old Speckled Hen was the first beer I really loved, and is still my favorite British beer exported to Japan. So smooth and creamy, with just a tiny bit o’ sweet. So yeah, I’m pretty well stoked about this. Haven’t tried the Belhaven Best (The Cream Of Scottish Beer), but if I can ever bring myself to order something besides the Hen I’ll let you know how it goes.

To find it just look for the Union Jack in the food court by the Red Marquee:
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