Aoi Heya lies on the east side of Shibuya station, tucked away from the hordes of shopping teens and university students that routinely flock to the area. Hidden in the basement below the Yachiyo building, the live house (the Japanese word for a music club) bares more of a resemblance to a family rec room than a concert venue.
The walls were covered with artwork, feather boas, and candles. In the main room sat a dozen short leopard print seats, a small sofa, and three small tables. On the right hand side was a smaller glassed in area with a large couch, magazines, and a patio table with two chairs. At the back of the club was a tiny bar with two stools situated in front of it, and at the other end of the room, under a mirror ball and beside a baby grand piano was a clear area for the evening's musicians to set up shop. Even the bathrooms -- complete with their ceramic animal and Santa Claus statues -- looked like they belonged in your friend's parent's house. In all honesty I spent the better part of the evening waiting for someone's mother to burst into the room carrying a tray of cookies and a pitcher of green tea for everyone.
The only thing that detracted from the feeling of this being an intimate house show was the audience. A mix of Japanese and foreigners, the majority of the thirty or so people in attendance looked to be in their 20s and early 30s. Along with their age exceeding that of the average house show, was of course their behavior. Gathered in small groups, most of the cooler than thou audience generally ignored one another and sat completely silent throughout the night.
Determined to shake things up a bit, Takashi Nakayama RX-7 chose to ignore the "stage" area and set up his table of toys in the middle of the club. The few people positioned behind him quickly moved giving him free rein over half of the room. He seemed to be pleased by this as the extra space allotted to him more room for dancing while he created his wonderful noise.
Illuminated by a single fluorescent light bulb, the vocalist for electro punks Skyfisher attacked his sequencers with non-stop calculated fury during his awesome 30 minute set. Beginning with a very hard industrialized dance beat, Nakayama begin rapidly turning various knobs and dials to dissect the sounds erupting from his equipment. Bouncing along to the music, he made a point of taking a few steps back to dance, head bang, and sometimes just trash around wildly before jumping back towards his synthesizers to push a couple of buttons or turn something and scream a few lyrics. Although his energetic and incredibly interesting performance did get a few of the hipster's nodding along to the beats, generally the audience just quietly stared on, occasionally clapping as they sipped their drinks.
While Nakayama tried to get a reaction out of the crowd with his strong beats, KK. Null went for a different, scarier approach. Clad in a "Sex Instructor" T-shirt, the 41 year old Null began his show by creating a loud wall of white noise in the club. After a couple of minutes, he introduced a loop of a high-pitched noise to the mix that sounded as if it came straight out of a horror flick. Have you ever had a dream where someone is talking to you, but the words come out all twisted and warped resulting in you not having the slightest idea what he or she are talking about? For me, the loop playing reminded me of that garbled noise. The confusion being created was furthered by the loudness of the music in the small room.
The most entertaining aspect of the show was watching the legendary electronic artist manipulate each new sound as he added it the giant loop of noise and feedback that was being produced. With his fingers in constant motion, each new element advanced the music, building upon what was previously laid down or shifting it slightly to take it in a new horrific and tantalizing direction.
Having their ears and minds assaulted made the audience more vulnerable and caused them to loosen up a bit during Null's performance. Although still dead silent, the assembled spectators did work their way closer to the stage, with many of them sitting on the floor around Null's gear. The addition of a dozen or so flashes from fan's cameras brought back the feeling of being at a house show again. The shorts blasts of light beaming across the bent over artist added even more of an eerie element to the frightful music.
After a half hour of working his craft Null began to wind down. Pounding away on several pieces of equipment to make, twist, and then distort several bouts of feedback, he produced one last deafening screech before looking up, smiling, and bowing. The audience, albeit a bit taken back, showed their appreciation by clapping quietly as KK. began to collapse his gear.
Although Null has released a hundred plus recordings over the span of his 20 year musical career, his music is still evolving. As one of the forefathers of the Japanese experimental scene he is thankfully still creating thought provoking, vital music and helping to continue further the genre along with fascinating up and comers such as Nakayama. Tonight's show provided an intimate look at some of Japan's more interesting musicians in one of the best rooms I've watched music in. The coolness of the space and the family rec room feel of it made the whole experience so much more intense. Best of all, with things wrapped up by 9:30 pm, it allowed everyone to get home early and provided plenty of time to get things in the basement all tidied up before mom came down and threw a fit!
— 29 July 2003
