A lot of people who visit Japan say they want
to get off the beaten path.
They want to see the side of Japan that barely
anyone gets to see, and that might mean setting
off to some backwoods rural region or a remote
island.
But what if I told you that there’s a hidden
Japan that can be found without leaving the
centre of downtown Tokyo?
You just have to go… underground.
I stumbled upon the Japanese underground music
scene when I was randomly browsing the ‘indies’
section of the giant Tower Records store in
Shibuya, Tokyo.
I found some music there that piqued my interest,
and when I went home and looked up the artists
behind it, it was like falling down a rabbit
hole.
One track led to another. I found collaboration
after collaboration, related artist after
related artist, and suddenly this network
of creators just seemed to spread out in front
of me and it looked like there was no end
to it.
My mind was blown - I was looking at a lively,
exciting, inspiring hidden side to Japan that
I had never seen anyone mention.
So many different sounds, so many artists
with voices that wanted to be heard, and so
much creativity. I’d never been a massive
music nerd, but before I knew it, I was hooked,
and keeping up with this rapidly-changing
community became my mission.
I hit the next level when I went to a small
music festival in the Shimo-Kitazawa area
of Tokyo, where I visited about 20 different
venues and saw as many acts in one day.
It was an overwhelming amount of creative
energy to be exposed to at once, and it made
me realise that this subculture was not just
an ethereal network, but it really existed
in a physical place.
Shimo-Kitazawa quickly became my favourite
area of Tokyo, along with Koenji, the other
live music hub, and I visited often to go
to live shows.
Whenever someone visits Tokyo and I get to
show them around, I always try to take them
to a gig because if you’re looking for something
rthat's amazing and off the beaten path, this
is it!
I have a Spotify playlist of my favourite
artists that I’ve picked up over this journey,
which I will link down below. It starts loud
and rock-heavy, goes a bit experimental, then
gets gradually more stylish and quiet as you
approach the end.
There’s a whole mix of genres in there,
so if what you’re hearing doesn’t quite
gel with you, skip forward a few tracks and
you’ll find something totally different.
It’s funny, sometimes Japanese people ask
me ‘Do you listen to Japanese music?’
and I say 'Yeah!"' and I show them this playlist,
and they're like ‘What? Who are all these
artists? Hhow did you find them?’
The mainstream record labels and talent agencies
really do have a vice grip on the entertainment
industry here, so you won’t find the other
side unless you actively go looking for it.
But that other side is where I found truth
and inspiration, and a hundred artists who
deserve all the support they can get for the
things they create.
If you want to discover more for yourself,
probably the best places for English discussions
online are the r/JapaneseMusic and r/JapaneseUnderground
subreddits, as well as their associated Discord
server.
Otaquest.com and the Japan Times’s music
section provide the best, and probably only,
reporting on this scene in English.
But nothing beats diving in and following
the trail from artist to artist until you
find something that suits you. I made my playlist
in the hope that it could be a starting point
for anyone else who wants to go on this journey.
If you actually want to go to a show during
a trip to Tokyo, it can be a bit tricky because
a lot of these small venues are not expecting
foreign visitors and don't provide a lot of
information in English.
The best thing I can suggest is finding an
artist you like, and checking their website
or Twitter page for show info.
If you stumble through with Google Translate,
it shouldn’t be too hard to find the date,
time, location and ticket price.
Alternatively, you could look at Shimokitazawa
or Koenji on Google Maps, search for ‘live
music’, and click through all the venues
that pop up and see what’s on.
Both these areas are just a couple of train
stops from the downtown areas of Shinjuku
and Shibuya, so they're barely a detour from
the usual tourist track.
Most shows cost somewhere in the region of
¥2000, or $20, which can seem like a lot
for a no-name band, but you’ll usually get
several acts playing in one night, and when
the crowds are this small, they need to charge
a bit more to make up for it.
While yes, it can be a bit tricky, I think
that seeing an indie artist is less tricky
than going to a major artist, because the
big ticket websites that major artists use
usually require a Japanese address maybe credit
card to sign up, they might have a fan club
that gets access to all the tickets first, and
it’s just impossible to reserve from overseas.
You'll find none of those problems you go to a small venue where you’re paying in cash at the door.
These kinds of restrictions and hoops to jump
through are why I landed in the indie scene
first
Because until very recently, major Japanese
artists put very little online, and even less
was available to people outside of Japan.
It’s only really in the past two or three
years that full versions of music videos have
been going up on YouTube, and putting music
up on streaming services like Spotify and
Apple Music has become the norm.
Japan has for a long time being a physical
CD-buying culture, which makes it hard to
get involved with Japanese music when you
don't have physical access to those CDs, but
global trends are finally reaching these shores.
Indie artists, on the other hand, have always
been pro-active on social media, which is
why they were much more accessible when I
was first wading my way into all this.
So that’s my once-over introduction to the
Japanese underground music scene.
Please let me know if there’s any aspect
of it you'd like me to talk about because
it is my favourite subject, or about life
in Japan, or working at an anime studio, or
learning Japanese. I tweet a lot about all
these subjects too, so please do follow.
Like the video, don’t forget to subscribe,
and I’ll see you in the next one! Bye!
