From the archives: Ichiko Aoba, 2016 Japan Times interview

“I get most of my energy for creating stories from dreams.”

Ichiko Aoba, 2016. Photo by James Hadfield

Ichiko Aoba takes her seat at an old-fashioned coffee house in Shibuya, and places a sketchpad and a plump pouch of rolling tobacco on the table. During the hour-long conversation that follows, the tobacco goes untouched, but the sketchpad gets a thorough workout. As she talks, the 25-year-old singer-songwriter reflexively scribbles drawings and kanji characters to elucidate what she’s saying, the way a university lecturer might.

From the archives: Fishmans, 2019 Japan Times interview

“We were ‘just doing it,’ but ‘just doing it’ takes real single-mindedness”

Kin-ichi Motegi of Fishmans, 2019. Photo by James Hadfield

In the eternal present of modern listening, when the entire history of recorded sound is just a few clicks away, some music reverberates for longer. That’s been the case with Fishmans, a cult 1990s act whose blend of dub rhythms and dream-pop reverie continues to lure new fans 20 years after the untimely death of frontman Shinji Sato.

Though they were able to sell out 2,000-capacity venues in their prime, Fishmans never enjoyed widespread commercial success. In an era when Japan’s top-selling artists were shifting millions of copies, they barely registered in the Oricon charts.

From the archives: Keiji Haino, 2017 Japan Times interview

“The difference is awareness”

Photograph by Kazuyuki Funaki

“I don’t want people to treat me like a god,” says Keiji Haino, chuckling. “I want to be a bad boy, right until the end.”

An audience with the 65-year-old iconoclast, a towering figure on Japan’s underground music scene, is always memorable. When I meet him at a coffee shop in Kawagoe, ostensibly to talk about the vinyl reissue of his 1981 studio debut, Watashi Dake? (“Only Me?”), the conversation sprawls for well over two hours.