For the last couple of years, I have written a post on 4th January to mark Mick’s passing. This year, I am not sure that I have anything more to add. I think everything has already been said. Instead, it feels appropriate to simply share some of the new images of Mick, which Steve has kindly published over the last 12 months.
Steve once said he reckoned he could post a new photo of Mick, every day for 2 years, and still have some left over. Let’s just hope he continues to do so, and allow us to revel in the joy of seeing some previously hidden gems.
For those who may have missed the previous ‘i’ll be here dreaming’ posts, they can be found here:
TMK are having their annual event to remember Mick and would like everyone to join in, and share their memories of him. Please join the discussion and add your own favourites – let’s all try to remember Mick as the vibrant and passionate man he was, rather than merely mourn his loss.
One of the absolutely best bits about writing this blog over the last couple of years, has been trying to think up amusing and relevant titles for each post. Of course, the main aim of the blog, was always to luxuriate in an array of Steve’s photos, but the bonus was mulling over the content and trying to link it to a Jansen/Japan related song title, where possible. The only rule I ever set down for myself was that I would never, ever, EVER use ‘Gentlemen Take Polaroids’, (or any variant of that over-used song title), as it was just too obvious. Growing up as a teenaged-Japan fan, back in the early 80s, every magazine article used cliched and lazy headings, which always annoyed me; “Cantonese Boys”, “Looking for a Quiet Life”, “Turning Japanese” etc etc etc. I always thought I could do better, and I sincerely hope that I have done. Sometimes, the subject matter, or the slant I choose to take when discussing Steve’s photos, immediately suggests a title; other times it can create a bit of brain-freeze and I have to call upon the help of my trusty sidekicks for inspiration. There have been a couple of times when I have laughed myself silly when a title has popped into my head, but I don’t always use those ones – I think my favourite ‘one that got away’ was when I wrote a piece about Steve’s early forays into photography, and the inspiration and support he found in Fin Costello. As hilarious as I thought it was, I wasn’t quite sure everyone else would get the reference, had I titled it ‘A Batt & Costello’.
I still laugh at that, though.
There have been a couple of ones which I wish I had thought longer and harder about. Last year, I wrote a piece about Steve’s preference for his Canon A-1, but also included shots taken with a range of other cameras. It was called ‘Optical Alternatives’ which works – sort of. The following day, I kicked myself when I realised I should have called it ‘Camera Obscura Alternatives’. …but then, hindsight is a wonderful thing, innit? My absolute favourite though, which did make it, was one which popped into my head whilst I was reading a post Mischa had written, about the infamous 1982 Zig Zag interview and photo session with Mick & Steve; what else could it be called, other than ‘Beginning to Meltdown’?
So, all of this is a rather roundabout way of explaining the glaringly obvious title of today’s post. The minute I saw the photos that Steve recently posted on his ‘sleepyard’ blog, it sprang straight to mind. It is possibly the least creative and laziest caption yet, but it absolutely sums up the images and it brought to mind some strange idiosyncrasies that I had noticed on my recent trip to Japan.
I have no idea if this is the same for young people these days, but for those of us who came of age in the 1970s/80s, Japan seemed like country from another planet; a planet from the future where people lived a completely different existence to ours. We would watch TV programmes like Tomorrow’s World, where they would showcase the new technologies, and our minds would be filled with images of bullet trains whizzing past Mt Fuji at incredible speeds, looking like something out of Space 1999; we were told of magic, spinning-discs which held hours of music, and would still play after a full cycle in the dishwasher – and they would never scratch, regardless of what you did to them (lying bastards!) Japan seemed to come up with every new, hi-tech invention; CDs, Polaroid cameras, robots, capsule hotels – it all seemed incredibly glamorous and not that far removed from science fiction. In my imagination, the country was full of cities which were shiny and white and clean and immaculate and a little bit scary. Fast-forward 35 years and I finally find myself wandering the streets of Tokyo with my friends, and beyond the obvious, “blimey, it’s a bit humid and aren’t there a lot of people” observations we made to each other, the one thing that seemed to occupy our middle-aged brains more than anything else was; “oh, aren’t there a lot of wires everywhere, and doesn’t it look a bit – erm – untidy?” Over a few glasses of Asahi, we decided it was probably something to do with the risk of earthquakes, but we never quite got over the sight of seemingly dozens & dozens of random wires, tangled and snarled, snaking from building to building, across alleyways and roads.
This was not the slick and sleek world we were expecting. In fact, on the original ‘sleepyard’ post, someone from Chile commented that he too was surprised to see such a sight in ” a first-world country”. It really does seem to be completely out of synch with our view of such a technologically advanced country, doesn’t it? It isn’t just Tokyo, either. I took similar photos in Kyoto. Steve also explained that images of “Tokyo power lines were the inspiration for the ‘Lumen’ vinyl cover. It’s a very familiar sight if you’re not too busy dodging people to look up.”
The theme of combining Japan-related song and album titles with photography, is one which is in full flow on Paul Rymer’s ‘Nightporter’ fb page at the moment. If you aren’t a member, I would encourage you to nip over there and join, as there is rather hilarious competition running at present – Richard Barbieri has been having a bit of a clear-out and has some spare photographs he is offering as prizes, for the most creative and amusing photographs, inspired by Japan songs. There have been some great entries so far (I like to think that mine have been particularly marvellous. Obviously) but the more the merrier. The rules are simple; the photos must be your own work and they must have been inspired by a song or album title – it can be Japan or any solo effort. Pop over to the ‘Nightporter’ page for more details…….
Leaving Hiroshima was difficult, because it felt like we needed longer there to explore everything it had to offer. The city gets under your skin and into your psyche, and the lure of discovering more of its charms was strong. However, we had a very important date to keep, with a very special person, and I was eager to get back on the Shinkansen and to head to Osaka.
When I initially planned this trip, the only thing I was certain of, was that I would visit Osaka and finally get to spend some time with the lovely Keiko Kurata – someone who had become a good friend over the previous couple of years and who I was longing to see. For those who don’t know Keiko, (and I can’t believe there are many people who read this blog who aren’t aware of her), she is legendary in Japan-fan circles. One of the original fans from the very beginning, Keiko is an incredible source of information about the band – if you have read Mick’s autobiography, where he recounts stories of the band being chased around Japanese cities by fans in taxis and being mobbed in hotel lobbies – well Keiko was one of those fans. With other like-minded people she produced the rather professional-looking ‘adonis’ fanzine, but unlike many of those old fans who fell away over the years, she has maintained a healthy interest in the band, and recently contributed dozens of photos and anecdotal evidence for Anthony Reynolds’ excellent biography of Japan.
So, meeting up with Keiko was my priority; she had promised us all a night of good Osakan food and karaoke, and we were more than ready for the challenge that lay ahead of us. However, before we could hit the sake and shochu, she had a rather more sedate experience awaiting us; the opportunity to witness a traditional wedding which was taking place at the beautiful Sumiyoshi Grand Shrine. What an incredible spectacle that was. We followed the wedding procession through the grounds of the shrine, across the barrel bridge and to the temple itself. Even though we remained outside, the fact that the ceremony took place in a wall-less room, open to the elements, meant that we were able to observe the whole thing; with Keiko quietly explaining the symbolism and meaning behind the myriad gestures and chants we witnessed. It was a truly wonderful hour, spent soaking up the atmosphere and submerging ourselves in the traditions of a culture which differs so very much from our own.
From Sumiyashi, we jumped on to a tram and headed over to the colourful chaos that is Shinsekai – and never has the expression ‘from the sublime to the ridiculous’ been more appropriate. Shinsekai is Japan’s answer to Blackpool; it is gaudy, loud, brash and tacky. It was completely compelling and totally at odds with what we had experienced of the country so far. I wouldn’t want to live there, but I am pleased I got to see this rather exciting and slightly seedy underbelly of Japan.
Keiko’s reason for showing us this part of Osaka, was to visit the Tsuutenkaku Tower, where we would be able to view Osaka from its lofty height. It took almost an hour to get to the top, not because it was particularly high but because this tower is a temple to gaudy, corporate tourism; every few feet, we had to stop and have our senses assaulted with a bewildering choice of crappy plastic things to buy. The whole place seemed to be sponsored by Pocky (those delicious chocolate-biscuity things we know as Mikado over in here in Europe) and the walls were covered with posters of a Japan’s current favourite boy-band, advertising the calorific sticks. There was even a poster featuring a rather different (and much, much older) Japanese boy-band, which brought a smile to my face for a brief moment….
Osaka from above is a sight to behold. The city is huge and stretches out as far as the eye can see, hemmed in by distant mountains. Seeing it from on high, as dusk was falling, was something I will always remember. Even the rampant materialism, which constantly assaulted our senses, couldn’t ruin the experience of watching a baseball game from hundreds of feet above the ‘diamond’, with the players looking like the proverbial ants as the sun started to set, bathing the city in a golden-pink hue.
What followed next is probably best left to the imagination. We were treated to an incredible meal, at Keiko’s favourite restaurant – she wanted us to experience her Osaka, so we found ourselves in a tiny, private dining room and course after course of food was brought to our table; including the most amazing sukiyaki and kushikatsu, all washed down with Sapporo and cold sake. In fact, we ate so much amazing food, I am surprised we could summon up the energy to stagger to the karaoke bar……but somehow, we (sadly) did. Oh dear. Let’s just say that whilst Keiko and her friend have really wonderful voices and are seasoned karaoke veterans, we four Brits were, without doubt, absolutely horrific. As the beer and shochu continued to flow, so did our dignity (out of the building, never to be seen again) as we slaughtered any number of songs by Bowie, Elvis and The Beatles. I had got rather excited at the prospect of Keiko and I dueting on ‘adolescent sex’, which she assured me was available, but when we got to the bar, the only Japan song they had was ‘quiet life’. Which we murdered. Dead. Deader than dead. As authentic Japanese experiences go, it was pretty incredible, but let’s just say that it is best for all involved if we never go for a repeat performance of that night’s antics.
The next day, we were lucky enough to visit Keiko in her home (and I finally got meet her fabulously grumpy dog, TT.) For a geek fan like me, this was like being let loose in Eldorado for an afternoon……we spent ages looking through all of Keiko’s photographs, magazines and records; constant squeals of delight emanating from me and scaring poor old T.T. It was absolute bliss.
We then took T.T. for a lovely wander round Sumiyashi park, close to where she lives, and enjoyed people-watching, as the locals went about their leisure time….and then it was time to leave, as we had to head back to Tokyo, for the final leg of our journey. Our 24 hours in Osaka with Keiko was one of the absolute highlights of the trip for me; not just because of the ‘Japan’ links, but because she is one of the most beautiful and generous people I have ever met, and I feel incredibly lucky to call her my friend.