Fujirockers: The official Fuji Rock Festival blog

Best feat of engineering

Best show
John Fogerty: After seeing Stevie Wonder at Summer Sonic last week, I was refortified in my opinion of what a rare and wonderful treat Fogerty’s Saturday evening set was. Though Stevie can still ram and jam with the best of them, it’s clear that those classics, as great as they are, mean less to him with every passing concert. He’s just played them too many times. Fogerty, on the other hand, went almost three decades without playing his classic CCR tunes in front of people simply because he didn’t own the publishing and didn’t think he should pay for the privilege of performing them. Now that he’s got the publishing back, it’s like he’s discovered these songs for the first time: fresh, tough, eminently sing-alongable. Now it’s our privilege to hear them again.
Runnerup: Moriarty, the best France-based, Anglophone, Irish-American-roots rock group with female lead singer. Every festival should have one. Continue Reading…

Raul, Wil-Dog, Jiro and Ulises

The multi-culti, musical hybrid L.A. collective Ozomatli gets lots of props in this blog and from FRF in general. This was their fourth time at the festival, and the feeling is mutual.

“Top festivals in the world?” pondered percussionist Jiro Yamaguchi. “Fuji Rock, Glastonbury–Glastonbury because it’s an actual city.”

“This is better, though,” said bassist Wil-Dog Abers from behind a pair of enormous shades and underneath a white ball cap.

“Yeah, it’s cleaner,” said Jiro. “But it’s the people, too.”

Yamaguchi, Abers were sitting in the back of the Prince Hotel with sax player Ulises Bella and guitarist Raul Pacheco, talking about the band’s new album, Fire Away, which is the first they’ve released since becoming ambassadors for a cultural outreach program sponsored by the U.S. State Dept., and the experience of playing to people in far-flung areas of the world had a profound effect on it. Continue Reading…

What you see is what you get

What a difference four years make. The last time Scissor Sisters played Fuji the reaction was underwhelming. At the time the band was touring their second, less exuberant album, and their headlining set at the White Stage started great and just sputtered out. This time, they got the “special guest” position on the Green Stage to officially close the festival, and fulfilled their mission perfectly, or should I say gorgeously. Continue Reading…

Earth goddess

Not that many people showed up for Sandii Suzuki’s collaborative performance with the kalimba player Bun of Koh-Tao and the Te Hive Hui No Manumere Dancers, which I believe are from her hula dancing school. Sandii’s evolution from 1980s bilingual rock singer to world music maven to award-winning hula dancer provides her with plenty of outlets for her creativity, and the show at the Orange Court was publicized as being “Earth Conscious.” Continue Reading…

He can change

Though I’d only seen LCD Soundsystem once before I saw them play the twilight set at the White Stage today, I would characterize them as a safe bet. Funk is hard, which is why !!!’s Friday night show was good-not-great, but rock is fairly simple as long as you stick to basics, and James Murphy, who is more of a technician than an artist, understands basics very well. His becoming a singer with LCD Soundsystem seems almost like a fluke, considering how self-conscious he is. On stage he looked timid and cautious, until the music consumed him and drove him to ever more frantic fits of self-expression. Continue Reading…

Know what I mean?

JJ Grey is from Jacksonville, Florida, and man he sure sounds like it: A drawl as thick as molasses, a courtly Southern attitude, and a sentimental streak wider than the Okefenokee Swamp. He sings the blues, and every offshoot you can think of, from swamp funk to country soul to Memphis R&B. And the guy’s got the voice to handle it all, a big, brash instrument with a bit of gravel at the bottom. Continue Reading…

Chris Keating

Sunday would seem to be the setting for the battle of the hip, white, New York-based, world music-channeling indie bands; or, at least, two of them. With Vampire Weekend setting up camp on the Green Stage in the middle of the afternoon, their contempos over in Brooklyn, Yeasayer, laid siege to the Red Marquee right after lunch. Considering the turnout, their estimable reputation seems to have preceded them, and there was quite a sizable portion that knew the songs, if not the words themselves. Continue Reading…

Masafumi Goto

Fuji Rock sometimes takes the credit for the enormous success of Asian Kung-Fu Generation, who went from the Rookie A Go Go stage in 2004 to Budokan in a little more than a year’s time. Actually, the Yokohama quartet was already buzz-worthy when they played Rookie, and later that summer even appeared at Summer Sonic. Nevertheless, they’ve been almost annual visitors to the festival and this year were slotted into the tricky opening position on Sunday at the Green Stage.

It’s difficult to receive the kind of overnight success Ajikan has without being jaded, and I almost didn’t notice they had started playing when they opened their set with a quiet, reflective song that seemed sort of wimpy, especially given lead singer Masafumi Goto’s bespectacled grad student demeanor. I had just come from the Red Marquee, where Good For Nothing, a hardcore pop punk ensemble, had cleared my sinuses with a rip-roaring set. These guys are buzz-worthy at the moment and are still young and hungry, but the attitude is backed up with chops and a real talent for songs. Would they be the next Ajikan? Continue Reading…

Get close

Moriarty’s Friday afternoon show at the Gypsy Avalon may be my favorite set so far mainly because it was such an unexpected surprise. There was therefore no surprise when the France-based sextet took the tiny Naeba Shokudo stage at midnight on Saturday, though it’s a good bet that the folks who were occupying every mud-slathered nook and cranny at that odd venue had no idea what to expect. The reaction was all the more rewarding. Continue Reading…

Catch that buzz

The wetness had returned in full force by the time Roxy Music took the Green Stage Saturday night, and might have been the cause of the jumbo screens going on the blink temporarily. During the opening song, “Re-make/Re-model,” the screens showed cover art from Roxy albums and then went blank. When they occasionally flickered on, they’d show guitarist Phil Manzanera or reedman Andy Mackay, but no Bryan Ferry. Was the infamously vain lead singer not having his image conveyed? Talk about remaking, remodeling.

Eventually, the glitch was repaired and Ferry’s still handsome kisser was all over the Jumbotron, but by that point we’d already heard “Out of the Blue” and had proceeded into that part of the band’s back catalog where they gave themselves over completely to unabashed romanticism rather than the curdled kind that characterized their first three albums. Younger rock fans who grew up listening to “My Only Love” and “More Than This” probably think this is what Roxy’s all about, but for all the Brylcreem and worsted suits and pneumatic fashion models, Roxy represented a perversion of the slick, sophisticated modern male. The best illustration of this is “In Every Dream Home a Heartache,” which used to be quite scary. On the Green Stage it was given a lush arrangement that neutralized much of the song’s self-disgust and dread, and Ferry didn’t seem up to acting it fully, so he pumped it full of irony. Continue Reading…

Let's choogle

It was totally appropriate that John Fogerty’s first Japan show in 38 years opened with “Almost Saturday Night,” even though it might have been even more appropriate if Fogerty had played the song himself rather than a recording of it. One thing that may have been lost over the years in terms of the legacy that Creedence Clearwater Revival bequeathed to popular music is that CCR was first and foremost a dance band in the classic tradition. They were a group that played for working class people on the weekends. They were local entertainers. “Nice to see you,” Fogerty said when he finally came. “Let’s have some fun.”

And fun we had. Not so much because Fogerty played all his hits, but because those hits were written and performed with the idea of thrilling people rather than impressing or enlightening them (they eventually did that, too, but it was just gravy). Now that Fogerty is a national treasure who finally owns his publishing and can do whatever he pleases, he can afford a big band of studio slickers to take with him on the road. I mean, Kenny Aronoff? Doug Clifford may have been a limited drummer, but he did as he was told. Aronoff can’t help but draw attention to himself with that bald head, those muscleman arms, and that huge attack. In fact, the attack was overkill in general. Did Fogerty really need three extra guitarists? Much of the beauty of the original Creedence sound was its spare but efficient arrangements, which were all but lost in the wall of sound that came from the Green Stage.

Continue Reading…

Simon says: Crowd surf!

In case you weren’t aware that their afternoon show at Gypsy Avalon was their first ever show in Japan, the Brooklyn indie pop duo Matt & Kim would have reminded you over and over and over again. In fact, as Matt said almost as soon at the couple bounded out on stage grinning from ear to ear, “this is our first ever show on this continent.” I assume he means Asia, right?

Suffice to say, M&K get a lot of mileage out of very little, musically, at least. This is not necessarily a criticism. There’s much to be said for a positive stage attitude and making the audience feel good about choosing your particular performance, but M&K have elevated this consideration to such a lofty plane that the music seems almost incidental. Mainly, it’s Kim bashing away enthusiastically and rudimentally on a small drum kit and Matt with his clear, high voice, singing over his toy keyboard parts, which tend to be limited to single-note lines. Continue Reading…

Martin Johnson

Anglo-Irish trad music is pretty popular in Japan, as evidenced by how often the Chieftains used to tour here and how quickly their shows sold out. I assume that’s what the “underground” refers to in the name of this band: trad musicians hanging out together in hobby groups playing reels and jigs and sea chanteys. The “overground” in the name refers to the fact that these guys make a living from this; or, at least, part of a living. Several of the members are in the hardcore punk band Brahman, so this could be considered moonlighting. But based on the show they gave at the Field of Heaven Sat. afternoon, it’s not necessarily a softer break. They may play acoustic instruments, but they play them like a hardcore punk band. Continue Reading…

Leaning tower of Pisa?

Festival security is asking everyone to be on the lookout for someone who calls himself “the mad builder.” This individual has been stalking sleeping festivalgoers and building elaborate structure of stone on their prone persons. Apparently, it started early Friday morning out near the Orange Court when Taro Suzuki or Tokyo dozed off in his camp chair and awoke to find a mini-replica of Stonehenge on his solar plexus. “I was quite surprised,” he told us. “And I didn’t want to move because obviously whoever had done it had gone to a lot of trouble.” Continue Reading…

Don't try this at home

I finally got to see the act that everybody’s been talking about. The Narasirato Pan Pipers of the Solomon Islands did their “formal” show at the Orange Court during lunchtime on Saturday under an overcast sky and in front of lively, good-sized crowd. By formal we mean they wore their native duds, which nevertheless looked improvised for modesty’s sake. Very happy to be here, they danced and piped and sang with enough energy to light the festival ground, though they still seem to have a way to go before they master stage protocol. Continue Reading…

men in black

Get the fist pumping and the blood will follow: that’s a worthwhile credo for Saturday morning, at least for those who were at the festival Friday and stayed up a bit too late doing a bit too much the night before. Hatano, the drummer and spokesman of the punk band Hawaiian6–which is not from Hawaii and counts only three members–obviously understood what he was up against and was gracious about thanking people sincerely for moshing and genuinely acting unrestrained. “You usually don’t have to thank foreigners,” he said, “but with Japanese it’s necessary.” Everybody wants to be appreciated, even if it’s for their own good. Continue Reading…

Love me tender, love me deux

The French rockabilly revivalists Mustang are one of the ubiquitous bands this weekend. By they time they took the tiny stage in back of the Naeba Shokudo near midnight Friday, they’d already played twice, and there was still at least one more gig to go. At the Red Marquee the previous evening during the pre-fest party they were greatly aided by the crowd’s anticipatory verve. The band was rather stiff, making their old-style rock-n-roll feel a bit academic, but people would have whooped and danced to Mozart’s “Requiem” at that point. Continue Reading…

Nic and the new girl

The Brooklyn-Sacramento dance machine !!! scored the headlining slot at the White Stage Friday, which is quite a coup for an indie band of their magnitude (meaning, not much in terms of record sales) but not necessarily surprising given the group’s track record at Fuji so far. It was their third time at the festival, and the last time they were here they totally smoked the Green Stage in an afternoon set that literally had everyone within earshop dancing their asses off. Considering that the Green Stage is where the most sedentary punters park those asses of theirs that’s a real accomplishment. Continue Reading…

Rosemary

The rootsy sensibility of the France-based quintet Moriarty reflects its members’ far-flung origins, which, in addition to France, includes the US, Switzerland, and Vietnam. In fact, once you absorb the more obvious influences–folk, country, blues, and some trad Irish–the music feels sui generis, or, at least, confounding of convention. Their latest album is a “soundtrack” of what appears to be a non-existent film about “Puss’n Boots,” except that all the songs are more famous for being from other “soundtracks” (mostly operas and musicals). Bizet’s “La Habanera” is done as a Delta blues and “I Feel Pretty” as a kind of kindercore ditty. Though the instrumental component is clever and technically adept, it’s Rosemary Stanley’s vocals that make the strongest impression. Possessing a classically bell-like soprano, phrasing as eccentric as the young Joni Mitchell, and a sense of humor that I still haven’t fully processed, Stanley slathers all the rustic textures with her urban intelligence. Continue Reading…

'scuse me while I point to the sky

The Field of Heaven likes to pass itself off as the last bastion of all that’s hippie and organic, but there’s one thing central to whatever this image means that’s missing: drugs. Alcohol doesn’t count, and neither do the hemp products that they sell there. It’s not my business to say whether this is wrong or right, though obviously drugs are illegal. I’m just saying that there’s a very important component missing from the vibe that the FOH tries to sell. Continue Reading…

The family that plays together

Whatever Johnny Marr’s reasons for joining the Cribs as a full-time member, on stage he actually looks like a fourth Jarman, or, maybe more like an uncle, given the wide gap in ages. The resemblance may be pure coincidence, or it might be due to the fact that the group’s latest album, Ignore the Ignorant, is their most accomplished work yet; as if Marr straightened out all the things that were problematic about the Jarman brothers’ music without interfering with the British group’s talent for fractured Amerindie melodies. They opened their afternoon Green Stage performance with “We Were Aborted,” a classic example of ragged, loud pop punk that features Gary Jarman’s most artless vocal, a coarse, hoarse bleet whose edges fall outside the song’s rhythmical and harmonic parameters. Meanwhile brother Ryan and Marr strummed their instruments with the fiercest determination. This is a band that goes through guitar picks like Bugs Bunny goes through carrots. Continue Reading…

Shiho Ochi

Highly appropriate, the opening act of the festival proper was Superfly, which is basically singer Shiho Ochi backed by a killer band of classic rock mimics and the songwriting talents of Koichi Tabo. The name is taken from the Curtis Mayfield movie theme song, which opened the show, but Ochi’s main influence pool sounds more like white 60s-70s R&B: Janis, Steppenwolf, that sort of thing. Fuji’s target cohort has always had a special soft spot for this period and style of American music, even if the lineup doesn’t always reflect it. The late Kiyoshiro Imawano, whose rollicking anthem “Inaka e Iko” (Let’s Go to the Country) always opens the Friday festivities promptly at 11 a.m., was Japan’s greatest gift to this style since he was a contemporary who played with some of the American giants who created it. Superfly doesn’t quite reach those heights, but they certainly know why people still love this kind of big, ballsy music. Continue Reading…

Don't spit on me

The award-winning British beatboxer Beardyman made his Japan debut (?) at the prefest shindig in the Red Marquee. His set was pretty short–less than 20 minutes–but in that brief time he proved that he is a very talented young man and should go very far in show business. Yessiree.

Obviously, if you’re looking for a way to impress girls, beatboxing is the way to go. There was no panty-tossing, but the squeals were almost deafening when Beardyman–real name Darren Foreman–mimicked what sounded like Buddy Miles drumming “Them Changes” in a thunderstorm. He opened his set by reading text messages off his iPhone in Japanese while making all sorts of cool percussion sounds with his tongue and lips and epiglottis (ew). Since beatboxing is mainly a kind of formalized showing-off, he sampled some hip-hop, complete with gangsta-rapper groan, ran through snippets of hits by everyone from Michael Jackson to New Order (or so someone I know said), and even managed to sing in a fashion; all while that rhythm machine in the back of his throat kept pumping.

For that second half of his performance he looped his voice and ran it through all sorts of cool equipment to produce a DJ show, which wasn’t necessarily more original or innovative than the next DJ show, but, you know, he’s doing it with his voice. Anyway, as they say, you have to see (not necessarily hear, if you know what I mean) it to believe it. You have at least two more chances during the festival.

photo by Ueda

ooh la la!

The French rockabilly trio Mustang opened the festivities at the Red Marquee for the pre-fest party. Rain was pouring down outside, thus guaranteeing that the shed would be packed. Normally, the first act of the pre-fest blowout is in essence the first act of the weekend, and the punters who’ve shown up early are itching to get this party started. Safe to say, even Kate Smith would probably prompt an ovation, but Mustang was a canny choice. Jean Felzine’s super twangy hollow bodied Gibson and his Francophone take on every American gulpy vocalist, from Elvis to Orbison to Holly, carries with it so many pre-associations that people knew what they liked even before they heard it. The response was more intense than it probably deserved to be. Though Felzine had obviously practiced his sneer and refused to reveal what he felt about the circumstances, the crowd’s huge reaction to every bent note and hiccupy aside showed on his face, even if his perfect hair never betrayed a thing. Continue Reading…

SOME THINGS WE JUST LIKE

Though my tastes are unimpeachable, I would never presume to tell you what to do, think, or feel. This may sound strange coming from someone who makes a living selling his opinions, but I don’t necessarily think those opinions are going to be shared by all, regardless of what some of my editors believe. When I write a movie or music review, all I can do is try to reveal how the particular subject matter struck me, and then hope that anyone who’s reading it will be able to translate those feelings for his or her own sensibility. I never tell anyone “you should see this film” or “you should buy this album,” even if I think you would be a better person if you did. Continue Reading…