Tokyo Damage Report

reup : TOKYO BEERNING: disclowter, 4 spikes, boob$hit, disclapties

DATE: JULY 3 2004

EVENT: TOKYO'S BEERNING

today was HANAMI. MORE witticisms, more whiskey, and on and on. I’ll spare you the details but suffice to say that by the time it was time for the concert my body was in pretty bad shape and my glasses were totally broken. which meant that I was finally ready to experience drunk-oi-punk the way it was intended to be experienced.

That’s right, tonight’s show is TOKYO’S BEERNING!!

another OI / DRUNK / PUNK EXTRAVAGANZA

BAND ONE: STAGNATION

Stagnation were AMAZING. Just burzum-style hissy squealy guitar that sounds like it’s being played through a stack of 1,000 walkman headphones, and a singer who just would NOT. STOP. JUMPING AROUND. The singer is just an amazing maniac and his pants are just totally the most destroyed pants. Like if you took the ‘regular’ crusty punk pants and tore off all the patches . . . leaving just a sort of FRAMEWORK of pants held together only by an ecosystem of fragile fungi which has developed during the pants-compost process. Anyway he was totally yelling at the sky and yelling at the ground and dropping to his knees and bonking me with the mike stand and just being a total geinus.

DISCLOWTER

They played really simple good call-and-response ‘japanese style oi punk’. Whatever that means. Like many of ikibukuro’s oi bands, they opened with, oddly, the Irish Spring soap commercial jingle.

VALUES SS

Their music was just so-so but the singer had a bandana around his face the whole time, looking like Black Bart or some shit, plus at certain parts of the songs he’d just drop the guitar and start strangling the microphone stand with both hands, screaming at the top of his lungs. It is such an easy and entertaining schtick I can’t believe EVERYONE doesn’t do it!

NO EVACUATIONS

I saw this band once before, but somehow at that time I failed to notice that their drummer is TOTALLY METALLL. Like double bass and quadruplets everywhere and just totally jacked ridiculous technical Dave Lombardo shit. But the rest of the band is just straightforward thrash. What is hilarious is that AT LEAST 75% of the band is going to the same Music School. Let me say that again: a group of guys who are going to music school to ‘learn punk.’ I am picturing their band practices as follows: “oh yes fellows, how about we play ‘fuck the shitstem’ in a Lydian A Minor mode? Wouldn’t that be splendid? and ? hey ! HEY FUCKHEAD!! How many times do I have to tell you, the ‘HORRENDOUS WARFARE OF DEATH’ refrain is ADAGGIO??”

4 SPIKES

I figure I’ve already taken 1,000 pictures of them so I put the camera down and picked up the PANDA. The PANDA is a puppet I was given earlier in the day. I had no idea what to do with it but I kept it close at hand. erm. But as soon as 4 SPIKES started playing, everyone sang along, and I knew exactly why God had gifted me on this day with a hand puppet. The PANDA was all up in the singer’s face all singing along every song. Even if I didn’t know the words, the PANDA did and he was hell of belting out tunes like Liza. Of course I couldn’t take a picture of myself while doing it . . .which is a shame. Again, this is one of those ‘BEST PHOTO I NEVER TOOK’ moments.

THE FOOLISHNESS

Speaking of foolishness: here’s something dumb to not do: try not starting to drink Korean whiskey at 1 pm and keep going until 8.

by the time FOOLISHNESS took the stage I was a little tipsy. You know that kind of ‘a little tipsy’ where you wake up Saturday morning and look at the pictures taken Friday night and go, “man, who the hell is that band? And who the hell is THAT band? and who even took these damn photos?” well, that’s the kind of ‘a little tipsy’ I was. So, based on the digital evidence, the FOOLISHNESS played next. More than that I can’t say.

BOOB$ SHIT

This is the band I really came to see. I’d been waiting a month to see them and now I have no idea what they sounded like. They might have been playing Javanese Ganelan for all I know.

DISCLAPTIES

Ditto. I have no idea what the hell happened. Which is weird because AT NO TIME during the festivities did I feel remotely nauseous, or feel bad, and I woke up the following morning with no hangover. So what the hell?? I have so much to learn about the magical world of alcohol abuse.

Afterwards, we went to izakaya. The punks took up at least 3 big tables. I was like the mom, saying ‘cmon guys, take your guitar and jacket out of the aisles, the staff has to walk through here.’ for ‘working class’ punks, they sure had a lot of contempt for the poor fools who work at this bar.

Basically I was just drinking like 4 gallons of water and fending off the advances of a teenager. Actual dialogue: “ehhh? I don’t have a lolita complex!” “I’m not a lolita! I’m 19!” plus some older skinhead guy pulled up a seat next to me and explained in great detail how and how he is a samurai skinhead, because skinheads are the modern-day samurai, but only Japanese skinheads can be samurai, and his mom was Whoopi Goldberg. He totally ruled. He was all talking about his skill with the samurai swords while smoking hella cigarettes and I was busting on him. Like, how are you going to have strength to fight if you have no lungs? His reponse: the soul is the true source of strength, and the smoke provides nourishment directly to his soul. Can I repeat the part about him ruling?

 

At around 1 am I set out for home. Normally I take the back streets, but today I went down the main street and promptly got pulled over by a cop who wanted to see if my bike was stolen. Fucking pink haired gaijin with beer-coated pants and a stuffed panda riding shotgun at 1 AM, nothing but trouble. It was a weird, super-polite arrest. He was all, can you please come to the station? Let’s go together! And I was all, why certainly my good man, nothing would please me more! Like a PARODY of japanese manners. So we went to the local koban, which is like a tiny police box by the station, where they politely searched me for guns and knives. the panda was not searched, which is good because that vato was packing mad heat.

And since I didn’t have papers to prove I was the rightful owner, they gave me a ride in the police car to the big cop station. Then we went to a little interrogation room. By this time there were like 6 different cops all trying to get to the bottom of this. I was starting to get tired, but I remained really cheerful: nothing is better Japanese practice than talking to cops. After awhile I convince them that I have the former owner’s name and phone number on my computer, so they can contact him directly and ask if he sold me the bike. But my computer is at home, and they won’t let me use the internet at the station for some reason.

So you know what happened next: me biking back to my house followed by a cop car full of police! I invite them in using the super-formal Japanese I learned last week. “please be so kind as to enter my humble home! Won’t you kindly have a seat?” And they all take off their shoes, which I thought was so fucking hilarious: the whole affair had this utterly wonderfully absurd contradiction. On the one hand they were maybe going to arrest me. On the other hand it was like, ‘hi honey, I brought some cops home! Can you make some tea?’ totally domestic!!

But of course my home is all full of retarded fucked up posters of schoolgirls committing hari-kari and gay Ultraman porn and stuff like that, so I’ll leave it to your imagination exactly how fucking absurd this was. One cop in particular was enjoying this 20 year old ‘japanese version of playboy’ magazine with a lady on the cover, naked except for a fuzzy frog mask and flippers. Anyway I print out the email with the former owner’s contact info on it and they bailed. The whole thing took 2 hours. I don’t really mind getting hauled into the station and interrogated. The only thing that pisses me off is, they wouldn’t let me take a picture of them hanging out in my house. I swear to god if I had been able to pull that off the whole ordeal would have been SO WORTH IT.

 

—- STAGNATION

 

—-

 

—- the MOST DESTROYED PANTS

 

—-

 

—-

 

—-

 

—-

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- DISCLOWTER

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- 2

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- VALUES SS is the name of the band

 

—-

 

—- this is his schtick: feeding back while strangling the mic.

 

—-

 

—- NO EVACUATIONS

 

—-

 

—-

 

 

—- 4 SPIKES. I was operating THE PANDA the whole time so I didn't take any pictures.

 

—-

 

—- BOOB$ SHIT (don't forget the '$'). The band I came to see, the band I don't remember. On the left hand side, you can see THE PANDA singing along.

 

—-

 

—- 5

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- THE PANDA in action, singing along. the bassist looks like Ted Nugent .

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- THE FOOLISHNESS

 

—-

 

—- 6

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- DISCLAPTIES is the headliner again.

 

—-

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- shiou-san diving or falling or something.

 

—- NOW IT'S TIME FOR PUNK BUTTS!!!

 

—- #butt2.jpg" type="image" /> —- butt2.jpg" type="image" />

 

—-

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- the ever popular 'HOW MANY SPIKES CAN YOU FIT IN AN ELEVATOR' game . . in front of the elevator is the Skinhead Samurai guy. tough as hell but just smiled all the time.

 

—- shiou-san expressing his affection for rock

 

—- drummer for BOOB$ SHIT

 

—-

 

—-

 

—-

 

—- I have no memory of taking this picture

 

—- or this one

 

—- or this one.

 

—- SAYAKA- 'i'm not a lolita!' -SAN and friend

 

—- Kaori-san

 

—- Crazy-big-dude-san and ryouchin-san

 

—-

 

—- NO EVACUATIONS

 

—- ICHII-SAN and KAORI-SAN

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