Introduction Keikaku's very own Bob makes a pilgrimage to Japan's nerd Mecca to see 38 of the nation's best punk bands. back to features		Daigassoukai 2008 It was the Wednesday before Respect for the Aged Day weekend (yes, that's a real holiday) and I had planned to go rafting that Monday with some friends. Out of the blue, an old acquaintance of mine from the band Four Tomorrow sent me an e-flyer for his band's upcoming show in Tokyo. It looked like some sort of festival with a ton of bands, but I wasn't too familiar with most of them. For some reason, though, I really thought that I should go. REALLY. But, I had that stupid rafting trip tethering me back in town. Three days later I found myself on the Hot Dog bus to Tokyo, reading some totally wacked out Manga Taro comics, and napping on and off for six hours. A late night dinner with a good friend in Tokyo capped off the night, and I was asleep by 2 AM. Sunday morning had me on the train to Akihabara, that ever famous hive of scum and nerdery, on my way to Club Goodman, the site of the day's punk show. I arrived at about 11:30 for a show that started at noon to a crowd of hundreds lined up out the door. Hot diggity, this show was gonna be jam packed! PSYCHE! In reality there was a giant sale going on at the music store adjacent to the club, and I was actually the first person to arrive for the 2008 Daigassoukai, as this festival was called. I felt a bit awkward having arrived so early, but a small stream of folks followed, and there was a good crowd of folks inside Club Goodman for the start of the first band, Number Two. The band's vocalist was sporting liberty spikes atop his head. 'Nuff said. I made my way out of the club with a swiftness to head for greener pastures. I suppose I should explain a bit more about the whole deal. This festival was centered around Goodman, but actually had four stages total spread between the club and the practice rooms at the nearby Studio Revole. Organized by Four Tomorrow themselves, and inspired by the Fest in Gainesville, Florida each year, 38 of Japan's hippest punk bands gathered together for an eight-hour extravaganza. Elder statesmen and young bucks alike were represented in large numbers, and I soon came to realize how great of a decision I had made in coming. I headed to Studio Revole's first story stage to check out Brown Trout, a likable enough three-piece from Tokyo's Hachioji district. They were pretty much the type of melodic punk rock that I've come to expect from Japan's current scene, equal parts youthful energy and drunken melancholy. I left after a few songs to catch Tombotori, the new act fronted by Miura, formerly of Derangements. Backed by a drummer, he played a good set of folk-flavored punk, a bit more mature it seemed than some of his older material. There was a very small crowd in the third floor studio for the performance, but it was definitely one of the more intimate performances of the day. I managed to squeeze my way into the second floor studio for the tail end of Seventeen Again's set. I soon enough understood why so many people were subjecting themselves to the oppressive heat of the cramped room; Seventeen Again's manic sound was equal parts Fruity and Sprocket Wheel, and quite honestly super nice. One of their friends from the crowd took the mic for a song and led the crowd in a passionate sing-along, and guitarist Yabu capped off the set by jumping into the crowd. The genuine energy and passion of the act caught me off guard, and I walked away a convert. I caught a couple of songs by the Exprollers next, fronted by Hamakita Tsubasa (whose other band Honeymoon Honeymoon also appeared later). The leather-clad band has been around for quite a while playing Ramones-core pop, and the bouncing heads in the crowd showed how much fun everyone was having singing along. I unfortunately had to head out to catch my new hometown heroes Angry Nerd, representing for the Tokai region. As one of the few non-Tokyo bands appearing that day, Angry Nerd definitely held their own. Bassist Yagochang and guitarist Gutchan were probably the most energetic duo of the night, jumping around and dancing, ending the set dogpiled up on the middle of the floor. I went back to Goodman finally to catch A Short Story, a band I had heard a lot about. They were a bit more anguished and moody than the other No Idea/Snuffy Smile-esque bands of the day, and I just wasn't feeling it at the time. I took refuge in Revole's first floor studio in time to catch a couple of songs from Peace of Bread, a male and female fronted band. Again, another slightly sad, melodic pop-punk band, like Fifth Hour Hero, but a hundred times better. I was kicking myself for not having come to watch them earlier than I did. It was up one flight of stairs next to check out the Scott Vegetables, the best band with the worst name around. The Four Tomorrow guys had specifically recommended that I check them out, and I owe them my thanks, as frontman Kyo put on one of the single best performances on the night. His technical flailing and psychotic gaze were charming and offputting at the same time, and it didn't hurt that the band obviously idolized Crimpshrine too. Spandex came on next in the same room, and I made a point of sticking around to see them (check out my glowing review of their debut album HERE in case you forgot how much I loved them). The two ladies in the band were obviously quite inebriated, and the set that followed was super sloppy and super fun. The crowd was probably pretty good and drunk at that point too (it was about 5:30 by then) and Spandex's set included some of the best shouting matches between crowd and band of the whole day. At one point, the bassist parted the crowd and moved her microphone so that she could stand underneath the air conditioner, as she had been complaining quite vocally about the heat for most of the set. Spandex's garagey punk rock was a much appreciated change of pace from the more melodic fare of the day as well. No People, a band who I had seen twice in San Francisco over the past four or five years appeared next, also in the same room. Everyone had cleared out before they began to play, however, so when they started out their set of snotty FYP-core punk it was just me and a spazzy guy in a BREAKfAST t-shirt bouncing around the room. A solid crowd trickled in, and a guy eating ramen in the front row was even kind enough to feed guitarist Jin some whilst he sang. I forgot to mention that I checked out Pasta Fasta briefly while No People were setting up their gear, and I thought that they were possibly the most dangerous looking band of the night, like the type of guys that you could imagine finding in Death Valley clandestinely cooking meth in a shack. If there are actually people in Japan who haven't bought into the reefer madness propaganda and make music under the influence of lots of chemicals, then it's probably these guys. To get chronologically back on track, it was back to Goodman for me to catch A Page of Punk, who I had heard before on a split with Four Tomorrow. They were kind of like The Queers with ADD, which might be a bit hard to understand without actually seeing it for yourself. They were obviously one of the crowd favorites of the day, perhaps reflecting their status as one of Tokyo's leading pop-punk names. Blotto took over next on the same stage, and they delivered the goods better than probably any of the other bands that night. Not only do they write the type of killer songs that bands like Nothington would sell their kidneys for, but they carry themselves with such aplomb, as if they know just how good they are and they don't have to make a big deal out of it (check out my review of their singles collection HERE). While I have sometimes wondered how come Blotto is so well known abroad while some of their peers are completely unknown, it's this type of performance that puts it all into perspective. I caught a few songs from Rhyme Days Away and malegoat before finally settling into Revole's first floor studio for a set by the Urchin. As one of the senior bands of the night, they played to a crowd that was less wild than that of some of the younger bands, but a crowd that was more appreciative, if you will. It was obvious that they had been at it for years, as their songs were all solid and enjoyable, and the members all seemed so happy to be there. The final band of the evening was Four Tomorrow, the gentlemen behind the whole deal. Everyone gathered together at Goodman for one final set of jams. I had managed to watch exactly half of the 38 bands that day, and despite seven and a half hours of straight punk rock, the crowd and I still had plenty of energy left for Four Tomorrow, which led singer Naoki to comment, "It's like we're Hi-Standard, huh!?" Everyone shared a good laugh at that, but Four Tomorrow did end up returning for three encores before finally getting kicked out of the club. Afterward about 130 people moved onto the Uchiage at an izakaya down the street. It was a who's-who of people who used to be in this band, and people who are in that band, and whose band opened for that mega famous band once in front of 3000 people only to hear crickets chirping after their set because the crowd sucked, and who used to live next door to that guy, and who were drinking buddies with that other guy, and who were getting married to that girl, etc. I realized just how great of decision I had made in coming out here for the festival, and I felt like I was a part of something great along with all of these other truly special people, though in reality, these people were all too modest to acknowledge how great they were, and I was just a fool lucky enough to be there that day. A sweet couple that I met at the uchiage was kind enough to give me a floor to crash on, and also to drive me to Shin-Yokohama station at 5:30 AM. Remember that rafting trip? Well, I had to meet up with my friends back home at 9 AM for that. The bullet train had me back home at 8:30, and I was surprisingly coherent and able on the rapids that afternoon, despite having just gotten two hours of sleep, though I did have to keep my mouth shut when the tour guide warned us against rafting while inebriated or hungover. You can bet that I didn't tell her that I just saw a band named Blotto, either. - Bob Vielma
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