Dot Hacker: The LA experimental rock outfit comes Alive

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LA outfit Dot Hacker are perhaps best known for the membership of guitarist Josh Klinghoffer in the Red Hot Chili Peppers—but the quartet’s atmospheric meditations are worlds away from the Peppers’ funk­tastic explosions. The band (named after one member’s grandma) debuts in Tokyo, courtesy of crowd­funding site Alive, which conducted a winning campaign on their behalf. Metropolis spoke with bassist Jonathan Hischke.

Let’s get the elephant in the room out of the way: What’s it like having the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ guitarist in the band?

That’s an interesting question … we were all close friends and had started Dot Hacker—and had recorded our first album Inhibition—before he became the guitarist of Red Hot Chili Peppers, so we knew him as something other than a member of that band for a long time. We are very proud of him, and it is always interesting to hear stories from that part of his life. His experience being in that band has brought out more confidence in him which is a great benefit for our band, as well.

Tell us why you decided to release two albums back-to-back in 2014.

There were a few reasons for that decision. We had too many songs to fit comfortably on one album, and we didn’t know what to leave off. We didn’t want to put out an exhausting album that was too long, nor did we want to release a double-album set; we felt that it would be overwhelming for a listener. Also, we couldn’t come to an agreement about what order the songs should be in. Since our time is limited as a band due to scheduling, we also felt that staggering the releases would be good for the band in that it would extend the life of the album since we can’t tour much or be a public presence in other ways.

What are the main differences between the two?

Well, the songs were recorded together as part of the same “batch,” and the idea of making two releases came much later, so there was no attempt to make them separate or different when we were writing or recording. We feel the song order makes the most sense the way they ended up, thankfully.

You’ve been together for a while, but the recording and touring came quite late. What were you up to?

We are all busy making music and touring with other people, as well as our band, much of the time, so touring has always been a difficult thing for us to schedule. We wish we could tour all the time! However, we started recording early [in] the band’s life; it just took a long time for the first album to be released. We had to find the right label and circumstances; thank heavens for ORG Music!

Members of Dot Hacker have backed the likes of anyone from Beck to Charlotte Gainsbourg. How have these experiences shaped your sound?

We are able to reference different styles and sounds easily because of our experiences, and we can convincingly play live under most circumstances. It also informs our writing and recording because this band is our chance to not be guided or commanded to do anything differently! It’s very liberating. It’s our own safe little world we’ve created.

Tell us about the personalities of the band members and how that translates into the music.

We are all very different personalities, but there are many overlapping interests and tastes that keep us close. We love each others’ company, and we hang out together all the time. We’re all kind of best friends. I can’t imagine the band being any other way, really. Eric is very practical and organized. Clint is emotional and knowledgeable about many things. Josh is sensitive and quite artistic and literary. I am stubborn and idealistic. The other three love sports, and I don’t care at all. We all share our politics and humor. It works out great!

Tell us about Dot Hacker’s place in the current LA music scene.

We rarely play, so I don’t know! We have many friends in a lot of bands in the city, so we do have peers we see often. I don’t know if we sound like any other bands in town, though.

What does music mean to Dot Hacker in the grand scheme of things?

It’s our lifeblood! We all have been playing music as our main focus for most of our lives, and we hope we will always be able to do so. If anyone else hears it and it makes their lives a bit brighter, then that is an incredible bonus.

How did you come to be part of the Alive project?

We were approached by Alive and it seemed like a very constructive and efficient model! Our fans in Japan apparently had suggested the campaign to them, and they are the whole reason this is happening. We are very much looking forward to getting over there!

Shinjuku Marz. Feb 23, 7pm. ¥5,500. Nearest station: Seibu-Shinjuku or Shinjuku. Tel: 03-3202-8248. Tsutaya O-Nest. Feb 24, 7pm. ¥5,000 (adv)/¥5,500 (door). Nearest station: Shibuya. Tel: 03-3462-4420. http://dothacker.org

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Sharon Van Etten: Torch songs for the indie era

 Escaping an abusive relationship that she chronicles in her songs, Sharon Van Etten was a late bloomer. But the New Jersey native’s emotive rock ballads are finding an increasingly engaged audience. The 33-year-old spoke with Metropolis about her new album Are We There, from her home in New York City.

The New Jersey native, known for her emotive ballads

What are you up to?

Cooking in the middle of a snowstorm. I’m making a stew—it’s the first time I’m doing a stock from scratch. It’s nice to cook because I don’t get much chance. It makes me feel like a normal person.

Because you’re on tour a lot?

Yeah, and when I’m home in the Village, it’s usually only for a week. I like to watch movies and play the piano. Usually, I’m not composing, just playing stuff. It feels good to play without it being for a specific purpose.

Do you often compose on piano?

I’m starting to—but it was hard to keep a piano in New York, until my friend told me about this brand of Melody small-scale pianos. Mine was only 500 dollars.

How does writing on piano differ from guitar?

The rhythmic patterns are different, and much more simple, because I’m not very good on piano. I naturally gravitate to mid-tempo ballads, and, in a way, the piano favors that. I don’t write a lot of upbeat songs, and I don’t think I could write one on piano.

Tell us about a new song.

I have a song called “Sentence,” that’s only four chords. The lyrics aren’t there yet, but I have a melody. The idea is how in one sentence, someone can change the way you feel about them.

Do your songs tend to evolve gradually?

I have some songs that pour out of me, and they tend to be the longer ones—“Your Love Is Killing Me” is one that just poured out. But for the most part, it takes a lot of work, and the lyrics are the hardest part. If the song borders on personal, then I’d rather take more time to think about it.

Tell us about the creation of one song on Are We There.

“Taking Chances” was one of the songs that I  first wrote on the Omnichord. It’s an electronic autoharp. It’s very ’80s. It has beats and chords on it, with one button you can play a chord. So I started writing like crazy on it. When I brought it into the studio, I started tracking the beats and vocals and melodies separately. Eventually we cut the beats out and let the band do their thing.

A fair bit has been written about your time in Tennessee and how that shaped your experience emotionally. But how did it shape you musically?

I worked at a café called the Red Rose that booked all-ages shows. The people that booked the place taught me a lot about the scene. I learned a lot about touring and bands on the road, and all different kinds of music. Cat Power, Sons of Ohio … all sorts of bands came through. But I also learned about country because I had friends who were session players and whose parents were real old-school Nashville country writers.

Which song do your fans request most, and why you think that is?

They ask for “Every Time the Sun Comes Up” a lot, because it’s the one light-hearted moment I have on the record and it’s fun to sing along to, even though it’s not a light-hearted song.

Have any of your fans credited you for rescuing them from suicide?

I think I’m far from rescuing people, but I think people don’t feel alone. They’re like, “Oh you’re sad too. You say the things I don’t know how to say.” A lot of listeners find comfort that other people are feeling pain, and are able to rise above it. People say my songs are sad but uplifting. I’m not sure I’m saving anybody. But I hope my music helps people somehow—otherwise I wouldn’t be doing this.

Before you found music, did you have other ways of getting those feelings out?

I made music for a very long time, without realizing it was therapeutic. I did choir and musicals and played guitar throughout my childhood, and I didn’t really take it seriously until my 20s. I had no idea what I was doing. But people started responding the more personal the songs got.

Did you find yourself more able to put feelings down in song as you kept doing it?

My mom gave me a notebook in high school at a time when I didn’t want to talk about anything. She gave me a notebook and I didn’t realize what I was doing, but I would write down my feelings, and eventually they became songs.

Why does music exist?

I think people have a hard time expressing themselves and it’s one way of communicating when you’re having a hard time verbalizing. It’s something you can feel without having to know why.

Art-conoclast Jack McLean

"It’s a long story, in full colour, without a happy ending." Installation at The Container gallery in Meguro.

“It’s a long story, in full colour, without a happy ending.” Installation at The Container gallery in Meguro.

From his burnable pyro-sculptures to his pathetic Sad Clown character, Scotsman Jack McLean’s art aims to provoke questions and undermine authority. McLean has spent a good part of the last two decades in Tokyo and now brings his turbulent imagination to alternative space The Container.

Metropolis asked McLean about his new drawing series, It’s a long story, in full colour, without a happy ending.

Not a happy clown

What moved you to create your first color works for The Container?

I’d been working in black and white for a number of years, and I had wanted to try the same style of drawing in full color for a while. Hendricks Gin company were sponsoring the next show at The Container, so Shai Ohayon the director asked me if I wanted to try full-size color drawings in a solo show specifically for the space.

Tell us about the genesis of your Sad Clown character.

The Sad Clown started as a performance for an art event called “Dirty, Dirty, Sex, Sex” in Shinjuku-nichome. I wanted to do something clichéd and absurd that had elements of ’70s comedy TV and British working-class, naughty seaside humor. I’ve always hated clowns, and I find most performance art awful, so I thought this would be a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. A truly awful piece of performance art from a sad clown.

The ending is not a happy one… How did you feel after completing the work?

I work very hard on the big drawings—hours and hours in front of the canvas—so there is a sense of relief when they are completed. Then it’s time to start another one.

Your art, such as your micro and pyro sculptures, often takes aim at the commercial art establishment. What then are your thoughts on Banksy?

Success—in the sense of “commercial success”—means that you are involved in the commercial art world establishment, and that world is far removed from the street. Due to his success, Banksy is now part of the commercial establishment whether he likes it or not.

On viewing It’s a long story… a few artists that come to mind are Francis Bacon, Salvador Dalí and outsider artist Henry Darger. Please tell us your thoughts on them and any other possible influences on your artistic development.

Francis Bacon developed a unique style that elevated him beyond his limitations. Salvador Dalí’s eccentricity and flamboyant personality promoted his technical ability within the context of his time. Darger was discovered by an insider, and the obsessive nature of his work was easy to understand. But none of them have really had any direct influence on my work. I’m not sure if I recognize any artists who have influenced my work, but I’m sure to others looking at my drawings they will find connections.

McLean’s turbulent imagination

How have two decades of living in Japan on-and-off shaped your art?

I’m not consciously aware of living in Japan shaping my art except from the ability to sustain myself economically and thus allowing me to create my art as a result of that. Perhaps the shaping, if any, has been in more subtle ways to do with the how and why I live here, and the respect I have for Japanese society.

How do people in Scotland and Japan approach art differently?

I think the way people go to see art in galleries in Tokyo is different. The great European masters are more accessible in Scotland than in Japan, so when there are “visiting exhibitions” here, I think there is probably more enthusiasm. Also, I think art shows are promoted more here—or used to be; maybe that is also the same now in the U.K.

Tell us about your favorite museums and galleries in Tokyo.

I like the museums in Ueno because they are older. I sometimes go to a rental gallery complex in an old apartment building in Ginza, but as it becomes more well-known, it is losing its appeal. But one day, I’ll go there and it will have become a vacant lot, so it doesn’t really matter.

What could be done to improve Japan’s art scene?

Affluent Japanese should spend their money on interesting and intrinsically valuable art rather than designer goods and the equivalent brand-name artists. This would create a healthy situation that  would help to develop a more positive Japanese art scene.

The Container, 1F Hills Daikanyama, 1-8-30 Kamimeguro, Meguro-ku. Until Feb 15; Mon & Wed-Fri 11am-9pm, Sat-Sun 10am-8pm. Nearest station: Meguro. http://the-container.com

OK Go: Viral masters go Tokyo

When Tokyo Flow reaches OK Go’s Damian Kulash, the singer is in Phoenix for a funeral. Despite the circumstances, Kulash’s trademark enthusiasm bubbles back as talk turns to the band’s tour-de-force video for “I Won’t Let You Down,” shot in Japan.

“It really was a new experience in a lot of ways,” he says. The piece features thousands of Japanese high school girls dancing en masse, filmed by drone from above, and the four members of OK Go gamboling about on Honda U3-X personal mobility devices.

“Director Morihiro Harano and the band saw eye to eye,” Kulash continues about the video which, at this writing, had been viewed
15 million times on YouTube. “It’s always magical when you align with someone creatively, and you feel like the whole is more than the sum of the parts. It’s even more magical when you’re crossing the language barrier.”

Choreographed by Japan’s Air:man, “I Won’t Let You Down” is a disco-flavored trifle of a dance number that sees the high school girls—epitomizing kawaii—deploying umbrellas in precise movements to create what from above looks like a shifting work of contemporary art.

People may be reminded of Japanese painter Yayoi Kusama’s dots or North Korea’s mass games, but the main inspiration goes back to 1930s Hollywood. “Busby Berkeley was a famous American choreographer from the ’30s, and he liked graphic aerial shots a lot,” Kulash explains, “so what you see in our video with the kaleidoscopic shots from on high, he often did that in the studio with dancers.”

Forming in Chicago in the late ’90s, OK Go have become known as much for their peppy pop-rock and their stint as the house band for NPR’s “This American Life,” as for their elaborate videos, which collectively boast over 100 million YouTube views.

To what does OK Go ascribe the remarkable audience for their videos online? “We don’t try to spell out our lyrics or match the song’s emotional content,” hazards Kulash. “We look at the shape of the song, and try to match the arc of it. For example, with a sad song, rather than trying to make a sad video, we try to make something with the same ups and downs. What we hope is people will see that this three-minute thing is not about the lyrics, it’s just this piece of art for them to like—there’s a radical transparency of process.”

ok go 3 Ok Go goes Tokyo

The success of OK Go’s videos means the revenues from them form a key part of the band’s income, and Kulash even appears on panels devoted to the secrets of making viral videos. The band has become something of a poster child for the way post-analog bands leverage numerous media formats to get their music out.

“We like to think that recorded music in the 20th century existed in a bubble and there were no commercial pressures on it, and it was art,” Kulash reflects, “and no wonder we hated the labels—they were doing all the dirty work and paying themselves 90 percent of the profits.”

Kulash observes that in the current, more complex environment of downloads and streams, it’s more difficult to figure out the commercial side of one’s artistic endeavor. OK Go’s solution has been to, so to speak, get in bed with the enemy.

“We find it creatively freeing to go into business with people directly,” he says. “We know then what’s expected of us and vice versa. So rather than having a record company who thinks they know better than you what to do with your art, we work with people who want to be associated with what we do. It’s a much healthier relationship.”

In the case of “I Won’t Let You Down,” there’s the obvious promotion for Honda’s mobility device. “I can’t discuss the specifics of our deal with Honda—but we knew what was expected of us and what wasn’t,” says Kulash. “We knew they would let us make the video exactly as we wanted and have creative control. They didn’t want to change what we were doing because they liked it.”

Kulash says people need to get over the idea of sponsorship as crass. “That’s where a lot of the music is to be found these days because radio plays only a few extremely well-funded acts,” he says. “I have problems with corporate domination of culture, but as long as I’m not in a position where I’m shilling products, I’d rather be where culture is actually happening than try to avoid it.”

OK Go has had a fan base in Japan ever since touring its eponymous debut album in 2002. Last summer’s packed Fuji Rock appearance and the upcoming sold-out date in Tokyo indicate just to what extent “I Won’t Let You Down” has cemented the band’s relationship with people here. “In Japan, it feels like everyone is a nerd about something—whether it’s film or rock ‘n’ roll or bowling,” Kulash says. “Having our music finally take off there just feels right.”

The singer is an astute observer of the way music scenes have evolved since OK Go’s days on the Chicago band scene. “Those communities used to be based around physical proximity,” he notes. “They still exist, but now they’re based around concepts or styles or artistic choices rather than geographic locations.”

Whether in a close physical community of bands, or a digitally diffused community of creators, the social role of music is clearly one of its most important. But Kulash says it’s music’s secret sauce that made it his life choice.

“For me, music is the only thing that can scratch that itch,” he says. “I think the reason why is, life is not simple. In your most joyous moments there is melancholy. For example, I’m talking to you from a funeral today. Being human is so complex and magnificent, and for me the interplay of sounds speaks to me in those complex emotions.

“An amazing fact is that when people sing together, their heartbeats align, and they release oxytocin on the level of sex. Oxytocin generates feelings of loyalty and love, and if you can generate that in a society by performing music, then it has a huge function in making society whole. It’s amazing that you can get the same answer scientifically and emotionally and evolutionarily—which is that music is fucking magic.”

Ken Tanaka: YouTube star smashes stereotypes

We tracked down Ken Tanaka, the Caucasian-Japanese star of numerous YouTube shorts parodying Asian stereotypes.

Tanaka says he was adopted by Japanese parents in the ’70s, and was only recently reunited with his long-lost twin brother, Californian actor/comedian David Ury. Despite their side-by-side appearances in videos seen by thousands, some still suspect they’re—ahem—the same person.

Why did your Japanese parents decide to adopt a Caucasian American?

In the mid-’70s, Japan had a big booming economy and it was popular for Japanese families to adopt American babies. Kind of like how American celebrities such as Madonna and Angelina Jolie adopt babies from other countries.

What was it like growing up as a white Japanese person in rural Shimane?

I lived in a very small village high in the mountains with a population of under one hundred people. Everybody had known me since I was a baby, so nobody treated me any differently than any other boy in my town. 

How is your search for your birth parents going?

It is a difficult journey, but I will never give up. 

What inspired you to begin making videos?

I met a person when I first came to Los Angeles who suggested that YouTube would be a great way for me to share my story. I had never heard of YouTube before and I had never made a video. But my friend had a camera; he showed me how to work it and how to upload videos. It’s been seven years now since my first video.

Tell us why Asian stereotypes make your videos funny.

You’re probably referring to our videos, “What Kind of Asian Are You?,” “But We’re Speaking Japanese,” and “Asian Stereotype Police.” These are all videos that question assumptions about race and identity. When we write these comedy sketches, we look for common but absurd situations that we think people will be able to identify with.

How does the response to your videos about Asian stereotypes differ in the West and Asia?

For “What Kind of Asian Are You?” we got a lot of comments from Caucasian people who were sure this could never happen in real life—and then a lot of comments from Asian people who said they experienced this kind of situation often. I think people in the West generally are more sensitive about these kinds of comedy videos.

What do you have in mind for your next video?

We just released a new video where David and I discuss Japanese jokes and David tells some jokes that I have heard from many Japanese language learners.

Tell us about your new book.

Earlier this year, my brother and I collaborated on a new book called Everybody Dies: A Children’s Book for Grown-Ups. It’s an illustrated picture book that can help grown-ups cope with the inevitable fate that awaits us all. It includes fun activities like “match the corpse to the cause of death” and a last will and testament that you can fill out. It’s fun for the whole family. 

More information on Ken Tanaka, his work and his books can be found at www.kentanakalovesyou.com

Rock in Opposition: European fest explores prog-rock’s potential in Japan

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The original Rock in Opposition (RIO) took place on March 12, 1978 in London, England. It brought together European prog-rock bands united by their common unmarketability to major record labels, including such acts as England’s Henry Cow, Italy’s Stormy Six and Belgium’s Univers Zero.

Over 35 years later, the fest finally sets foot in Japan, chaired by Akiko Nagai. Head of Disk Union’s progressive rock section for seven years, Nagai also helms the Tutinoko label, on which some of the RIO musicians have released albums. Nagai sat with Metropolis to discuss how it all came about.

How did Rock in Opposition come to Japan?

It grew out of the first tour by RIO headliners Univers Zero. The core group of people behind the festival were involved in producing the tour. Then our release of the documentary DVD About Rock in Opposition sold well, showing there is a demand for this sort of event in Japan. We then negotiated with French RIO festival directors Michel Besset and Chris Cutler for the rights to the name. As it turned out, the name “Rock in Opposition” was already in the public domain. We then linked up with Smash West and the Tokyo Arts Council to put it together.

What are your hopes for Tokyo’s first Rock in Opposition?

We want to share the history of Rock in Opposition with many people—not only prog-rock fans but all people with open ears. We also want to bring together the worldwide rock scene with the Tokyo scene, in hopes that something new will emerge, and that it will provide a platform for avant-garde music in Japan. RIO is expensive to put on, and the tickets aren’t cheap, but we hope that if it’s successful one day we can put on a free concert.

What is the audience like for progressive rock in Japan?

Japan’s prog-rock market is large. Bands can fill large halls here. But there are a lot of young bands that borrow prog-rock’s forms, rhythm changes and instrumentation, but aren’t really progressive rock in the true sense of the term. We don’t want to host a nostalgia-fest. The artists on our lineup are forward-thinking—“progressive” in the true sense of the word. The music may be difficult, but we hope our audience will rise to the challenge.

Nov 15-16, 3pm, ¥14,000. Tsutaya O-East. Nearest station: Shibuya. Tel: 03-5458-4681.

www.rockinopposition-japan.com/index_en.html

Japan’s PR battle for U.S. hearts and minds

A Xinhua billboard in Times Square. Japanese companies are no longer as prominent as they used to be.

A Xinhua billboard in Times Square. Japanese companies are no longer as prominent as they used to be.

NEW YORK — It might not surprise anyone to learn that China’s state-owned broadcaster CCTV America more or less ignored Hong Kong’s democracy protestors, except to note police injuries by “aggressive” activists. Nor would Americans be shocked to read in China Daily — available for free in towns like Boston and Washington DC — that China has historical claims over the entire South China Sea.

But it’s more disappointing for we Americans with ties to Japan to learn that Japan’s theoretically independent NHK World has editorial guidelines forbidding any reference to the Senkaku/Diaoyu territorial issue as a “dispute.”

Few Americans without links to Asia may be aware of it, but in the airwaves and on the ground, Japan, China and South Korea are engaged in a soft power scrum to get Americans to see territorial and historical issues their way.

So how do Japan’s efforts stack up in the court of public opinion in its key ally the U.S.?

When it comes to propagandizing by state media outlets, China’s media blitz blows Japan and Korea’s out of the water. The Xinhua news agency staked its claim in the Western media space with a 40 by 60 foot billboard in Times Square in 2011. CCTV has embarked on a hiring blitz that now sees its CCTV America channel fronted by onetime CBS anchor and USA Today correspondent Mike Walter.

But China and Japan’s strenuous English-language media efforts sometimes result in an own-goal.

For example, despite the slick packaging, China’s soft power spin may be having the opposite of its intended effect — helping to push Americans away. (A Harvard-educated friend in Boston scoffed about the China Daily he receives in his weekend Globe. “Does anyone read this propaganda?” he asked.)

NHK’s guidelines on the Senkakus have been given rough treatment in the Western press, and the broadcaster didn’t exactly endear itself to Americans when one of Prime Minister Abe’s new board picks reportedly termed the World War II Tokyo tribunal a “cover-up” of American atrocities.

Supplementing their media organs, northeast Asian countries also lavish support on cultural foundations.

China in recent years established numerous Confucius Institutes worldwide including some in the U.S. These have become the subject of controversy over accusations they are stifling free academic debate on subjects sensitive to the country.

Japan has the Japan Foundation for academic and cultural endeavors, and a new billion-dollar fund to support Cool Japan industries like anime and manga.

South Korea has the Northeast Asian History Foundation, which supports books and conferences in the U.S. on issues of history relevant to Korea, and has played a key role in telling the Korean side of the story on disputes with both Japan and China.

Asian and other countries also spend millions trying to influence policy by funding U.S. think tanks, such as Japan’s contributions to the Center for Strategic and International Studies. This backing recently sparked congressional demands for a Justice Department investigation over worries about its potential to warp policy debate on the US approach to trade and security in Asia.

When it comes to pop culture and entertainment, China, Japan and Korea mostly have better luck in their campaigns to win friends and influence people.

At street level, Japan funds a wide range of well-attended events such as the Japan Day in New York’s Central Park, while young Japanese and Americans have rich exchanges in the pop culture sphere.

Chinese pop culture has had some noted successes in film and the performing arts, although in the fine arts the country’s best-known figure is the defiant Ai Weiwei.

Without the large markets of its northeastern Asian rivals, South Korea has to look abroad; the success of Psy and Korean soaps are the products of Korean global media savvy, and K-pop acts play to crowded houses in the U.S.

And CCTV, NHK and South Korea’s KBS all do a better job at broadcasting documentaries and cultural programming than they do at hard news.

So with all the state money and sweat being expended on soft power, are the Asian powers’ American friends being won over?

The evidence is murky. “No country does what any of these countries want them to do because they want to emulate Korea, Japan or China,” says Temple University’s Asian Studies Director Jeff Kingston. “Soft power Asian style is more about rebranding nations to be more appealing, undermining negative stereotypes and cultivating admirers.”

Kingston is blunt in his appraisal of the tide of Chinese cash being funneled into the media and Confucius Institutes. But Chinese soft power may have a subtler lure for some — the very success of its governance model.

“There is a widespread view around the world that the Chinese model ‘works’— somebody labeled it the ‘Beijing consensus,’” says Columbia University’s Andrew Nathan. “While we chew our nails over the failings of our own democracy, people look at China as a place where decisions can be implemented and the economy can be kept on an even keel.”

Rather than the shared values and universal rights promoted by the West, Kingston believes Asian style soft power seems to be more about “getting countries to take your side in disputes and convincing them to do so by all means possible.”

This can make for uncomfortable situations, such as the current one U.S. President Barack Obama is facing in his ballyhooed “Asian Pivot.” “Korea is putting increasing pressure on the US to side with Korea against Japan on issues such as the World War II ‘comfort women,’” says Charles Armstrong, also from Columbia, “which can put the U.S. in an awkward position between its two main Asian allies.”

For the moment, China, Japan and Korea’s soft power campaigns seem likely to have about as much effect shaping US policy as, say, Qatar-owned Al Jazeera is having influencing Western public opinion.

It’s likely that the news of the day coming from Asia on CNN and in the New York Times et al has a far greater impact than any Asian soft power effort. And it’s here where China’s thrusts into waters near Southeast Asia and Japan have likely soured Americans on the country.

A recent survey by the Chicago Council On Global Affairs shows Americans ranking Japan at 62 on a 0-100 favorability scale, with China at 44. More Americans than in the last 2012 survey favored building relations with traditional allies like Japan and South Korea, even if that means diminishing relations China.

Disturbingly, despite a U.S. commitment to defend the Senkakus, it’s questionable how many Americans are even aware of the stakes. This, after all, is a country where each day thousands happily eat sushi without realizing the restaurants they’re seated at are owned and staffed by Chinese people.

Japan Today, Oct 31, 2014

Carl Stone: Resident expat computer music seer

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Computer music pioneer Carl Stone’s career took a left turn when he joined the Department of Information Media at Chukyo University in Aichi. Stone had begun to explore sonic collages via cassettes and turntables in the 1970s, and in the ’80s innovated the use of laptops to create live electronic music. Invitations to Japan led to a faculty position, and Stone now splits his time between Japan and the US. The native Californian spoke to Metropolis about the computer’s evolving role in music and how Japan shapes his sound.

Computer music is now omnipresent. What have been the biggest changes since the ’70s?

Miniaturization and portability. When I was a student we had a synthesizer studio that probably cost about a half-million dollars. Now that studio’s power can be roughly represented in a ¥5,000 iPad app. I used to tour with about 50kg of gear. Now all I take is a laptop, audio interface and toothbrush.

Is the computer now just another musical instrument?

It depends on how one chooses to use it. It definitely can be an instrument, but it can also be a tool for composing, for recording and more.

Much computer music lacks traditional identifiers of music such as melody and rhythm. What differentiates “sound” from “music”?

In John Cage’s theory, nothing. Not only did he feel that any sound could be repurposed as music, but in fact the distinction between even unintended sound and music was artificial. I remember listening to a conversation between Cage and Morton Feldman, another great composer. Feldman was complaining about the time he was walking on the shore, lost in thought, and some people were blasting music from a radio. Cage, who often used unintended sounds including random radio transmissions, laughed and said that it wouldn’t have bothered him because, “I would think they were just playing one of my pieces.”

Tell us about two or three of your defining works, and what you were trying to achieve with them.

Probably my most notorious work is called “Shing Kee,” which takes a small sample of German art-song sung in English by a Japanese pop singer, and methodically stretches it until it becomes a new sonic world. A more current series of pieces I’ve done recently use an electronic process I call “skinning,” where the shape and rhythm of one piece of music is “wrapped” around the harmony of another. Some very interesting things can result. Probably the best example of this is in my piece “Al-Noor.”

How have your many years in Japan influenced your music and career?

In many ways. First of all, just being in Japan serves as a place of constant stimulation, not only because of the arts scene but because of the fascinating urban soundscape. I rarely go outside without a handy portable recorder. But also the music scene itself here is interesting, and I’ve found a lot of musicians I enjoy playing with. I’ve been lucky to improvise with great musicians like Yoshihide Otomo, Yasuaki Shimizu and Yuji Takahashi.

What are some of the challenges you face as a foreigner on the faculty of a Japanese university?

The usual issues of language and culture differences, which of course get mediated over time. I was a freelance composer for many years before I took this job, so I had very little experience in academia besides my early years as a student at an American art school. Academic bureaucracies are problematic enough, but the Japanese seem to have raised them to an art form.

Japan is a hub of computer music. Tell us about a few favorite Japanese computer music composers.

Electronic music has a lot of important history here, going back to pioneering work by Toru Takemitsu, Yuji Takahashi, Akira Ikufube. These days I’m enjoying music by Ryoji Ikeda, Satanic Pornocultshop and Chihei Hatakeyama.

Tell us about your upcoming performances and new groups.

I’ll play on June 6 with Brian O’Reilly from Singapore, who performs as Black Zenith. In the fall, I’ll play with new group Tapakasa, featuring the great Akira Sakata on sax, Yumiko Tanaka on shamisen and Pearl Alexander on bass. We performed earlier this year as an experiment and liked the results so much we are planning to keep it going.

Metropolis, Jun 4, 2014

Hotei: Rock icon won’t rest on Japan successes

1037-AE-Music-Hotei-Tomoyasu20It’s the morning after his long-anticipated New York gig, and Tomoyasu Hotei seems relaxed in a lounge at a Midtown hotel.

Though he’s moved to London and is leaping into international markets, the guitarist has reason to feel self-assured. He’s coming off two sold-out headlining gigs in London and New York, which have effectively served as his worldwide coming-out party.

“I think I’m the man to do the Olympics,” Hotei answers confidently when asked what kind of music would work for the 2020 Tokyo opening ceremony. “The Olympics should begin with something powerful and Oriental-feeling,” the lanky rocker adds. “Of course they could use Hatsune Miku—it’s great technology—but it’s a bit cold and unemotional.”

Hotei is not the first Japanese cultural figure to express alarm about the rush to embrace virtual idols and the like under the banner of Cool Japan. “I’m a bit worried,” he confesses. “It’s all a bit too cute. It’s great for what it is, but Japanese culture is deeper than that.”

Hotei emerged in the ’80s as the explosive guitarist for multi-platimum group Boøwy at a time when Japan’s charts had more room for muscular rock ‘n’ roll. He’s a guitar hero of the old school, and at New York’s Highline Ballroom Hotei wields his “axe” like he’s got some serious wood-chopping to do, throttling the neck to release bent high notes and windmilling the strings to underline the occasional power chord.

Surrounding Hotei is a crack international cast of supporting musicians. The music draws on his million-selling solo career, but crests on the song for which Hotei is best known abroad—“Battle Without Honor Or Humanity” from the Kill Bill: Vol. 1 soundtrack.

“I originally wrote the music for a Japanese yakuza movie for which I was music director,” he explains. “When the offer came, everyone said you shouldn’t do a yakuza movie because of the bad associations. But the director was good and I felt it would work with my music. Quentin Tarentino loved that movie and contacted my management. I also worked with Terry Gilliam on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I’m a lucky guy.”

With his taste for international collaboration whetted, Hotei’s move abroad has been incubating for a while. But it’s the flowering, it seems, of a seed planted in his mind by his Korean father. “My dad would come to my room and spin the globe,” he recalls about his childhood in Gunma. “He’d say, ‘Hey Tomochan, the world is big. You’re now here, but in the future you should see the whole world.’ So I dreamed of using my guitar as a passport to see the planet.”

Living abroad has given Hotei perspectives on how to best present Japanese culture to a Western audience. “You can find a lot of strange sushi here or in London, for example, but that is sushi for the world. So we should balance what Oriental means outside of Japan with what it means inside of Japan. Now I see this more clearly.”

Hotei deliberately chose Japanese musicians for his international band in order to retain an Eastern flavor. “I don’t play shamisen, but I feel deep inside I have something traditionally Japanese. For example, Kill Bill, somehow it came out Oriental even though I didn’t intend it that way. So abroad, I feel more conscious of my identity.”

Along with artists such as Yoko Ono and Ryuichi Sakamoto (who is in the audience at Hotei’s show) in New York, and Damo Suzuki in Berlin, Hotei is part a growing coterie of Japanese rock elder statesmen who choose to live abroad.

It’s not that there aren’t young Japanese bands based overseas right now, but they come from a generation of Japanese that didn’t experience rock as a subversive Western import, and perhaps don’t find it to be as much of a revelation.

Hotei grew up on David Bowie and Talking Heads, and bemoans the lack of interest many young Japanese musicians seem to have in Western rock.  “Japan has the largest CD market in the world, so most artists are satisfied with the domestic market. I want to say to young Japanese artists that they need to challenge themselves more. I think they are too satisfied.”

Hotei grants that touring overseas can be hard. “Even major Japanese artists have told me it’s not worth the effort, but I think it’s important to experience different markets and scenes,” he says. “And it’s interesting to me to see how diverse audiences receive my music.”

Hotei’s current London plans are simply have fun and gig. And he does concede the benefits of Japanese organization when it comes to doing shows. But for now, he wouldn’t be any other place than England. “Everything is on time and perfect in Tokyo,” Hotei admits. “Overseas can be frustrating—but I’m really enjoying life in London.”

Metropolis, Feb  6, 2014

 

The Lumineers: Wesley Schultz‘s sushi-flavored work ethic

1035-MU-The-LumineersIt’s been a year of superlatives for Denver folk-rock outfit The Lumineers since “Ho Hey” went to number one on the back of one of the decade’s most memorable choruses. Yet when Metropolis reaches frontman Wesley Schultz on tour in Florida, they’re coming off another high.

“We sold out two nights at Red Rocks with the Denver Symphony Orchestra, which was just incredible—it was distracting how beautiful it was,” he explains in measured cadences over the phone. “It was the first time we’ve had the chance to play with people of that caliber.”

Schultz says the quintet’s planning for their first symphonic collaboration went smoothly. “Tom Hagerman, who’s in this band Devotchka, did the score. We make pretty minimal music, so there was a lot of room to add more sound. Some of the songs we’d already envisioned with strings, so the choices pretty much made themselves.”

Along with outfits like Mumford and Sons, The Lumineers are spearheading a new chapter in the singer-songwriter tradition.

Founded by Schultz and childhood friend Jeremiah Fraites in New Jersey in the mid-2000s, the group weds heartfelt lyrics to carefully wrought acoustic guitar music, leavened by the cello, mandolin and bass of three newer members. “Jer and I, we’ve been writing songs for eight-plus years together,” Schultz says, eager to show the band is more than simply a 100-million YouTube view wonder. “That experience made me able to appreciate this—and the years of working on our craft in the shadows I hope helped us to make a complete record instead of just one great song.”

Still, the shock and delight clearly continue to reverberate. “Three years ago, my brother and I were home for Christmas,” Schultz remembers, “and he said, ‘Did you see that “Ho Hey” song has 3,000 hits?’ I thought he was joking, but it kept growing and growing. The number gets so big it’s difficult to wrap your head around it—you realize it as you travel to different cities and more people recognize you. So I’m blown away and thankful that song got our foot in the door with a lot of people.”

Rather than musical influences, Schultz credits people outside of music for helping him realize his musical vision and then stay focused enough not to get carried away by the hype over “Ho Hey.” “There have been a few figures in my life—one worked construction, one was a butcher and the other a sushi guy—and they all taught me so much more about music than most musicians ever did about how to conduct yourself,” he says.

The “sushi guy” was the owner of the restaurant Schultz and Fraites worked at in Denver after relocating from New Jersey. “It’s owned by three Japanese brothers, and they taught me what it means to be a hard worker,” Schultz says. “Making sushi at a high level taught me a lot about how to approach our band. It’s about that unrelenting commitment—being really intentional about things and punching a clock helped me far more than knowing the right records or something.”

Which of course makes it a given that the singer, who spent three months in China but has never been to Japan, is excited about The Lumineers’ first visit here. In the meantime, there’s a European tour, and a track on the new Hunger Games movie. “It’s called ‘Gale Song,’” Schultz informs, “but we’re not allowed to play it until the movie comes out.”

Like all Lumineers’ efforts, the song’s simplicity shrouds the elaborate process that brought it into being. “Typically our songs are worked over a lot—we’ll record 20, 30 versions, playing with the tempo and instrumentation and adding verses and taking them out,” Schultz says. “We burn an idea down and then build it back up again ’til we’re satisfied.”

Metropolis, Jan 23, 2014