HOLY SHIT! JAPAN TOUR DIARY – Day 7
Morning came along, and I wasn’t the first to rise for once. Sleep was great. Oh, amazing sleep. People were coming in the door with food from somewhere and the smell made me coil like a charmed snake out of the bed I had made. I looked at what they had brought in and it looked awesome–fried rice with chicken, fried pork, noodles and other entrees. But I quickly realized that it was all personal this morning. Oh well. I dicked around and chatted for a while with the people that were awake. There were still a few peeps passed out, including Andy in a nice slumber. I decided that I needed another shower because I was a stink pile. Their baths and showers are a little different than ours. The WHOLE ROOM is dedicated to the bath experience. No toilets, no counters to put on your frilly makeup, just a small tiled room with a drain in the middle. There is usually a tub there and a place where you can sit and dump water on yourself similar to the cinto that I went to. This one had a detachable shower head as well, so I decided to go that route. Rub-a-dub-dub, one man cleaning his junk just outside of the tub! Finishing up and feeling that clean glow, my mind turned to hunger.
Some time passed and we packed up all of our shit to travel yet again. I flumped down in the back of the van and heard Fumito explain that we were going to a sweet tempura place to eat. Eat? Again? Both vans pulled up to a quite familiar place. Eric blurted out that it was the same place we were at yesterday with the disgusting food. Well, almost – It was the place right next door. We filed in and we were greeted with another ticket vending machine offering us food and drink. Tabman and I were full and the thought of eating anything else was terrifying, so we both got a large beer ticket for 450 Yen. The place was shaped literally like a circular bar with a large spot in the middle connected to the back for the tempura fryers and the waitstaff. The Japanese boys again laughed at Tabman and me when they found out all we ordered were 2 beers. What, man? We just ate! So did you! So, fried item after glorious fried item passed in front of us as we nursed our beers. Andy was in heaven. He raved and raved about how damn good everything was and I started regretting the bland Hotto Motto dish I ate just before. This food looked so good but I lacked the will to eat it! BAH! In true Andy fashion he asserted that he’s never too full to eat tempura and damnit, if I could go back and do it all again, I would have eaten. Tabman and I sulked out of the place but not before taking a couple pictures that expressed our true feelings.
On the short ride to Kokura I started to let loose. Yep. Let loose. The whole van was continuously nasally punished as I let out noxious clouds of questionable origin and screamed, “VICTORY!” The boys laughed and screamed KUSAI! covering their noses and lifting their shirts. Heh, the old ‘sniff and lift it’ exists worldwide, I see. Throughout the tour I ended up using other phrases like, CONQUEST! TRIUMPH! CUP OF SOUP! and my favorite, DOMINATION! I was finally getting my ol’ states swagger back. This shit never gets old, man. Dick and fart jokes forever. Double true.
Kokura was another wonderful place with small streets and cozy alleys full of open shops and restaurants. We arrived with plenty of time to spare, so we all kind of walked around for a bit. Just one block over from the club we were playing at was another beer vending machine with some great prices. I took out a 500 Yen coin to purchase a tallboy and looked down at the ad on the front. It was a fuckin’ Disney ad! What the shit? A DISNEY AD? Yup, there stood all of those cocksuckers: Mickey and Minnie, Donald and Daisy, Goofy and Pluto, all drunk as shit staring at some floating magical orbs that an obviously blacked out Mickey had tossed into the air. This machine practically screamed, “HEY KIDSH! WANNA GET WASHHTED?!” I
yelped with glee and beckoned sir Teeb-nutz to come and look at this shit and we laughed while taking videos of the ridiculous contraption. We decided to go to the Lawson down the street to get Tabman a phone card so he could call his sweetheart. I purchased a corndog, some frosting filled treats, and some sort of chicken kabob that was underwhelming. Poor Tabman found out that his debit card wouldn’t work. Turns out that this was May 5th, and somehow Cinco De Mayo was screwing with his transactions. He did manage to purchase an ice cream treat, however. His facescrunched when he ate it and he laughed, disgusted. This particular frozen good had beans in it. BEANS.
We turned back and sat with Shyboy, The Crump and YPB on the ground, passing out treats and drinking Disney beers. Eric came back in a huff and exclaimed that he found exactly four Coronas to shotgun in celebration of Cinco De Mayo! Nice. He passed out the beers that came with a cute little packet of lime juice and we looked around for Andy. Who knows where he goes? Every tour it’s like his trademark–he disappears and we don’t know where. Eric decided to give the other beer to the mohawked Yukata, and we showed him how to properly shotgun by tearing the hole in the can. He was hesitant and unsure, but he did pretty good come sound of the countdown, even finishing before Tabman.
More time was wasted and I decided that it was time to don the chicken. I tore off my shirt and said that I would like it to be in Katakana (Katakana is one of three ways Japanese is written) this time. Maru drew the chicken and Tboy wrote the characters. I re-met the girls from Sin Soda tonight and we chatted the time away until the show started. When I walked into the already cramped Megahurtz (The club/bar we were playing), Garden was halfway through their set. They were quite odd compared to the bands we had seen up until now. They were a 3 piece with a stand up bassist playing surfy prog rockabilly. So cool. After they were done, we went outside to drink more and write a setlist. I stayed outside during Infro’s set. Eric came out half way through laughing and saying that it was a straight up 1990’s emo band. Whoa. Authentic window in time rock, my Japanese friends. After Infro was done I wandered back inside and Eric grabbed me and said in his raspy voice, “Get over here so we can do a Cinco De Mayo shot!” Hell yeah! We went to the very tiny bar in back and Eric put the equivalent of twenty dollars down for 4 shots of tequilla. I don’t think I’ve ever celebrated Cinco De Mayo so hard, much less in Japan of all places. Surreal.
Your Pest Band took the stage next and I was getting excited and drunk, sweaty and smiley. The songs were really starting to sink in and I was really enjoying catching the subtleties that were jumping out at me. Fumito effortlessly leads the band, squeezing his guitar and filling the mic with broken English, while Tboy and Satoru bob and weave, adding their backups along the way. Sometimes Fumito would even have a cigarette somewhere in the mix. Even back when I smoked, I never understood how musicians could smoke and play. It’s a power move, man. Slydingman strapped on next, a powerful dirty and smart pop punk three piece. They were angular and intense with lots of apparently great banter in between songs. We couldn’t understand any of it, but all the rest of the people were laughing at everything they said. The drummer especially was crazy, putting his all into every song. In between songs it was all he could do to catch air and recover, his chest heaving and face smiling.
We stepped onto the tiny playing spot on the floor next. Andy and I team skins, Tabman and Eric team shirts. That’s how it always goes with us, and we constantly bicker about each others clothing status. It’s fun. Really. I was feeling great, just the right amount of drunk and rested. The people were eating it up tonight, going nuts and singing along. YPB was right in front raising their fists in the air and dancing around while we slammed through our set. It was one of those nights that I hit everything just right and the sound was spot on. We thrashed and jumped and screamed and finally our set closed with Andy and Tabman on the floor convulsing, a shirt soaked Eric tossing his sticks aside and myself propped up against the bass amp sweaty and breathing hard.
To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.
Hours on The Fucking Plane: 15
Approximate Hours of Sleep: 45
Shows Played: 5
Total # Of Different Bands: 23
Number of Crybed Sessions: 1
Number of Shits Taken: 3
Robo-Toilets Used: 0
Alcoholic Tours: 3
Chewing Tobacco Chewed: 0
Angry and Pissed-Off Count: 5
Pieces of Chicken Displayed: 12
Number of Times Bathed: 2