There is
NOTHING dorky about karaoke.
Well, I only went to one show, instead of the planned three (long story,) and I discovered the hard way that the trains stop running at about Midnight. One expensive taxi ride later, I'm grumbling my way into the door...
Anyway, the show I DID go to was by invite. A fellow record geek by the name of Gaku has a band here called Loaded (as well as a history with a band called The Pain, and he wrote a book about Johnny Thunders...etc.) and a label called Captain Trip put the CD out.
Well, first up was a band called Davidtio, who are more Velvet Underground than the Velvets themselves. The lead singer even has this Lou Reed by way of Johnny Depp thing going...
Next up was a guy by the name of Yutaka Tadokoro. I was assured that he was quite famous in the Tokyo scene, and was in a band called "Red Warriors," which did sound familiar.
The "Red Warriors" thing stuck in my head. So I did a bit of research on Mr. Tadokoro, and discovered...well, not much on the internet about Red Warriors, but if you saw "Lost In Translation," he's the guy that was directing Bill Murray in the whiskey commercial. Yow.
Next up was a band called "Slunky Side," which featured possibly the greatest hair in history.
Then, Gaku's band. Much rock, some covers, and by the end of the night, there were no fewer than 11 people on stage.
...after which began my journey home, culminating in the previously mentioned expensive taxi ride. It was worth it.
That was not the end of the musical festivities, however. That weekend...
That there is a digeridoo, which is the Aboriginal instrument used to make that really low, moose in heat sound.
After sonically scaring the crap out of the cat, it was time to bring out the blowgun.
"HEY, WATCH IT!"
At the end of the night, I was the only person to actually hit the target. Actually, the target in question was a chopstick wrapper, but you get the idea.
The next week was not so eventful, although I did FINALLY visit Tokyo Tower. Here's a hastily thrown together composite shot.
On the way there, I passed this place. I have no idea what it is, but I'm assuming it's some kind of evil headquarters. I mean, look at it.
Hopefully, they won't send out their evil robot army to get me for revealing their whereabouts.
(OK, that's actually a random pile at the scrap metal place a few minutes from my house. But imagine my surprise seeing it glaring at me when I was walking to the video store at night.)
COME JOIN US AT HAPPY TIME NOW OR WE WILL EAT YOU.
Food can be many things, but I was as yet unaware of its dry sense of humor.
A new restaurant opened recently, although it appears to be mostly for cows.
As with any large country, Japan has its share of problems. I've previously noted the rise in Nationalism, and, in closing, I'd like to talk about another issue that has come up recently. I'm talking about a severe lack of flatulence.
There are a few ways to deal with this problem. One is to simply purchase some, as illustrated by this piggy bank ad.
Yes, buy.
If you had healthy gas as a youth, but find it waning as you get older and do not wish to buy any from pigs, there are products to help you produce your own again.
As always, mail me here.
Well, I only went to one show, instead of the planned three (long story,) and I discovered the hard way that the trains stop running at about Midnight. One expensive taxi ride later, I'm grumbling my way into the door...
Anyway, the show I DID go to was by invite. A fellow record geek by the name of Gaku has a band here called Loaded (as well as a history with a band called The Pain, and he wrote a book about Johnny Thunders...etc.) and a label called Captain Trip put the CD out.
Well, first up was a band called Davidtio, who are more Velvet Underground than the Velvets themselves. The lead singer even has this Lou Reed by way of Johnny Depp thing going...
Next up was a guy by the name of Yutaka Tadokoro. I was assured that he was quite famous in the Tokyo scene, and was in a band called "Red Warriors," which did sound familiar.
The "Red Warriors" thing stuck in my head. So I did a bit of research on Mr. Tadokoro, and discovered...well, not much on the internet about Red Warriors, but if you saw "Lost In Translation," he's the guy that was directing Bill Murray in the whiskey commercial. Yow.
Next up was a band called "Slunky Side," which featured possibly the greatest hair in history.
Then, Gaku's band. Much rock, some covers, and by the end of the night, there were no fewer than 11 people on stage.
...after which began my journey home, culminating in the previously mentioned expensive taxi ride. It was worth it.
That was not the end of the musical festivities, however. That weekend...
That there is a digeridoo, which is the Aboriginal instrument used to make that really low, moose in heat sound.
After sonically scaring the crap out of the cat, it was time to bring out the blowgun.
"HEY, WATCH IT!"
At the end of the night, I was the only person to actually hit the target. Actually, the target in question was a chopstick wrapper, but you get the idea.
The next week was not so eventful, although I did FINALLY visit Tokyo Tower. Here's a hastily thrown together composite shot.
On the way there, I passed this place. I have no idea what it is, but I'm assuming it's some kind of evil headquarters. I mean, look at it.
Hopefully, they won't send out their evil robot army to get me for revealing their whereabouts.
(OK, that's actually a random pile at the scrap metal place a few minutes from my house. But imagine my surprise seeing it glaring at me when I was walking to the video store at night.)
COME JOIN US AT HAPPY TIME NOW OR WE WILL EAT YOU.
Food can be many things, but I was as yet unaware of its dry sense of humor.
A new restaurant opened recently, although it appears to be mostly for cows.
As with any large country, Japan has its share of problems. I've previously noted the rise in Nationalism, and, in closing, I'd like to talk about another issue that has come up recently. I'm talking about a severe lack of flatulence.
There are a few ways to deal with this problem. One is to simply purchase some, as illustrated by this piggy bank ad.
Yes, buy.
If you had healthy gas as a youth, but find it waning as you get older and do not wish to buy any from pigs, there are products to help you produce your own again.
As always, mail me here.