"Get ready and don't miss watching Kemuri rise..."

In my June '98 "In Natural" report on Kemuri, the seven-piece ska-punk outfit whose name means smoke in Japanese, the last line I wrote was something like, "Certainly, Kemuri, lit by Positive Mental Attitude (PMA), is now rising high from in corners of every town they visited." As Kemuri hit the road they systematically set fires all over the country, from Sapporo to Okinawa. All venues were packed with kids enjoying hot and wild ska-punk - from tiny so-called 'live-houses' in regional capitals holding barely more than 100 people, to larger spaces like Kawasaki Club Citta and the 1,500 capacity Tokyo-area Shibuya On Air West. I really hope you didn't miss "77 Days" - named after Kemuri's second album and their first major Japanese tour, which kicked off at Bayside Jenny in Osaka on the 4th of November 1998.

Who would have guessed nine months ago that this was going to happen? Then, Kemuri was preparing to fly to the US to take part in the "Ska Against Racism" tour organized by a Korean-American comrade, Mike Park, which saw them travelling 22,000 km in a bumpy truck as they visited all major US cities. Before leaving Japan, they were only playing small venues like Shinjuku Loft and Ebisu Guilty. Even in Tokyo, one of the biggest cities in the world, they were merely one of those unknown indies bands in the underground scene. But now Kemuri is one of the hottest and most positive acts, who are not only changing the music scene but also the cultural attitude of the general public, as a leading force rising high and fast with super energetic performances.

Tickets for shows in Japan's major cities were sold out within an hour or so and those in other districts immediately followed suit. Wherever they went, there were always lots of kids without tickets trying to capture the sound and vibe of a gig outside a venue. Inside, the air at venues was extremely hot and sweaty, despite the winter season, and when the guys got on stage, what you witnessed was not just a gig but the Kemuri phenomenon. From the very beginning to the end of a show, lots of kids were singing the songs along with Fumio, the lead vocalist, in spite of the fact that all the songs are sung in English - except for only three in Japanese. As you can guess, when Kemuri plays their Japanese songs, no one can keep their mouth shut or stand still. Moshing, diving, body-surfing, jumping high and dancing wild, all of the kids were singing the songs loud with their eyes shining as if they themselves had written the songs with Kemuri. Checking their eyes and faces, you could see how much the kids love and, in fact, need Kemuri. In this cruel society, these guys are sharing the same joy, pain, sorrow and happiness in life as these kids.

The surprising thing about the Kemuri Phenomenon is that it was made by nothing other than Kemuri's constant hard work giving ever exciting and wicked live performances by delivering ever great and truthful music. There was and has been no major promotion with ridiculous amount of cash spent on Kemuri to get on this stage, unlike the usual cases in this country. If you wanted to have a big hit here, you were supposed to organize what we call a tie-up campaign to synchronize a tune with a bloody TV CF, which is nothing to do with music as you know. This is selling music as nothing but a consumer product. What a laugh! Even if you hate this, this is the reality of the music biz here, where almost all record companies have been wasting their money on a few big names and consequently sacrificing the blood, sweat and tears of each musician and the people who believe in music.

But the record company Kemuri is signed to is not a major one but a semi-major, and is not capable of taking the same path as the major ones for promotion. Fumio describes it as practically, "...no promotion, y'know." Also Kemuri has never been featured on any pop music TV programs except a few rare broadcasts after midnight when nobody really watches TV anyway. The only and true promotion Kemuri did was to give more than 100 percent to their performances at each and every gig to create truthful music with lyrics of conscience. In this sense, Kemuri is truly one of the few alternative bands in this country.

Strangely enough, the Kemuri phenomenon started not while they were in Japan but while they were touring the US. The single "Along The Longest Way," cut right after they took off for "Ska Against Racism," was a smash hit and while they were recording "77 Days" at Blasting Room run by the Descendents/All in Fort Collins, Colorado, their first album, "Little Playmate", released in June 1997, had 5,000 copies on back order in May. Right after Kemuri came back home and got started on a short tour in Osaka, Nagoya and Tokyo, a video documenting their tour of the States with two video clips was out and sold more than 10,000 copies straight away. In a country where nobody can sell more than a couple of thousand copies of a video except a few mega-stars, it was a big surprise even to the record company. While selling 50,000 copies of the follow-up single "PMA," the big surprise was the reaction to their new album, "77 Days." It was released on the 23rd of September with an initial order for more than 50,000 copies, which put Kemuri at No.18 on the national charts. But that was just the beginning. Within two months, sales had reached 80,000 and are still growing fast, estimated to reach more than 100,000 by the end of this year.

In a very positive sense, there is no doubt that Kemuri is the most happening band in Japan and all music people with good hearts are enjoying their success. But probably the coolest one observing this phenomenon is Fumio, the leader of the band.

"I don't really feel what you call 'success', to be quite honest, 'cause nothing has changed in my life...," laughed Funio in Hiroshima when I covered their show at Namiki Junction on the 24th of November.

Perhaps his words refer to the routine work that the band has been taking. Some members of the band still have jobs to make a living and none of the guys have been making enough money to stand independently as a musician yet.

"But I do realize that Kemuri is more well-known, like the experience of being asked to give an autograph on a train..."

Falling in love with reggae and ska music, Fumio formed the band with Blood Tsuda, the bass player, himself a lover of punk music, back in the 1995. The drummer Shoji become the hardcore of the band very shortly afterwards and, just before heading for the States, there was a bit of a change in the line-up. Some guys could not leave Japan for such a long time because of their jobs and it was at that time that Muscle Masui, the trombone player who used to be a member of the first and greatest Japanese reggae/ska outfit called Mute Beat, joined in as the main force of the band with full commitment. The new guitarist Minami, sax player Koba-ken, and trumpeter Ryo arrived to complete the line-up. After having a few gigs in Japan, Kemuri set off for the States. I suppose the experience of the "Ska Against Racism" tour and the recording of "77 Days," produced by Bill Stevenson and Stephen Egerton of the Descendents/All in the US, was the key to uniting all the guys as a solid band and to them having more than 100 percent commitment.

�@"Yeh, that's right. That experience opened up something (like a new direction and attitude) about music and performance to us, and still now it is growing in the right way. That's what I can say, but about the audience, I just found out that there are a lot more of those who probably have never listen to ska-punk or anything like the Descendents/All. They are there to see nothing but a band called Kemuri."

It is all too obvious when you see the kids' bright eyes turned toward the band at a gig. But there has also been a change in their reaction to the band, which has become hotter then ever.

"I am not puzzled about that. When we were recording the second album, I knew there are more... kind of sing-along songs than on the first album. But I think I am puzzled a bit about the way the kids treat me. After finishing a gig and trying to go out, I am surrounded by an incredible number of kids. I'm not sayin' it's good or bad - I'm just wondering what the hell that thing is."

What I witnessed in Osaka was a part of it. In the middle of the set, after having played several songs non-stop at full throttle from the outset as usual, he was trying to say something to the ever hot and appreciative audience, but he was somehow at a loss. All he could say was, "You guys are wonderful," and nothing else. Indeed the audience was completely heated up and boiling over at a show where I ended up taking more shots of the audience rather than Kemuri on stage, even though I was there as the band's photographer. Looking at those kids I saw that they were somehow idolizing Fumio like a god or mega-star.

"That's some kind of a separate matter to me, I believe. I, myself, don't fully know where exactly I am heading. Of course, I have been trying to find out and somehow I see a dim light. I just know what and how to do at this moment. That's it. So, to be honest, that kind of idolization is irrelevant to me. But I feel I have to be aware of it 'cause I've seen so many stars who've got nothing special but they are brainwashed by the treatment they get and end up behaving like somebody super. That is the only thing I have to be aware of and I am willing to keep my own pace."

Having tremendous changes around Kemuri, still they are running fast with PMA to change this dreadfully ridiculous system of the Japanese music industry and challenging it to fill the music scene with lead, it seems. None of the guys in the band have ever specifically mentioned this but through the extent of my coverage of Kemuri and through sharing tons of time with them, I have no hesitation in stating it here. But, then again, I wonder where they are heading...

"There is some difference between me and Kemuri but it's not easy to make a clear line as to where... So what I am talking about now is not equal to what Kemuri might say. I simply want to make this world better, even if the change is tiny, by living my life to the full. I just wanna be right and have to be right. I am living on this planet and happen to be in this country called Japan. So from where I am standing, I have been speaking out on injustice whatever it is. That's nothing special. Never throw a cigarette butt on the street and that kind of small thing is a part of it. I suppose those big ecological issues are no different to these small things either. Every little bit and piece (of effort) is a starting point, don't you think? I would like to live in this way and what matters to me is how far I can go till I die. And... I am singing and writing a song in a band called Kemuri which is a part of me as well. I never know what we can do really as a band. Including the guys working together, Kemuri has now got nine members and I wonder what we can do with them. But, whatever it was, it would be great if we could quench our thirst for something lacking in our lives... I suppose the real sense of Kemuri will become clear something like 10 years later... If people think we are worthwhile to exist at this point of time, then I would be happy enough."

Whatever his words mean and whether the guys in the band are conscious of it or not, one of the greatest things about Kemuri is, or at least it would appear to be, that they are acting together and sharing a common destiny. After selling more than 80,000 copies of the album and hitting No.18 on the national charts, they are still sharing all the work together. Each one of the guys drives the wagon when they tour and, in fact, I saw Fumio driving when they were setting off for Hiroshima from Tokyo. As soon as they get to a venue, all of them work to move the equipment into the venue from their car and set up the gear on stage and, while the drummer Shoji is checking the drum kit, the rest of the guys were preparing their merchandise to sell. All of their goods are designed by Koba-ken, the sax player, who used to work for one of the top designers, Takeo Kikuchi, and I hear that he actually goes to the plant to check the details of the goods. He displays the items on a wall, some guys fold all the T-shirts and sweatshirts, and the rest are setting up the space. Nobody else looks after the merchandise but them, except when they are performing live on stage, as this is a way for them to get in touch with their fans. Even right after a gig, totally drenched in sweat and extremely exhausted, everyone comes to the merchandise area to meet the audience. That has never been changed.

"I was told not to come out the other day on this tour 'cause they said I would make trouble. Why is that? Yeh, I understand that the promoter does not want to pay an extra charge for (possible damages) caused to the venue by so many people jumping into where we are, and we agree with not spending anything extra for a gig which might up the price of the ticket, but something is wrong with it, isn't it? What's wrong with us doing what we have been doing? I felt... and said in my heart, 'Just shut the fuck up,' when I hear people saying that kind of shit. It was like that in Osaka and also when we shared a stage with the Specials at Hibiya Koen. I was watching them playing at the edge of the stage and the kids were waving their hands and shouting to me while the band was playing. I found those kids to be alright, but to the guys playing live on stage, it was not pleasant but annoying, I suppose. So I felt I had to leave. Well, that's not good at all, you know, and... I have to think twice about the media here as well. One of those popular weekly magazines wrote about me, but I wasn't happy at all about how I was presented in that article. I know that I could not control it, but there is something incredibly important about us - the fact that we were discovered by those who were trying to find good music on their own, like going to a record shop to check what's good and they made us what we are. There are, however, I realize, so many people trying to rip us off after we've had some kind of success. I honestly feel it is not fair but bloody wrong. It is impossible for me to control this, but I am fighting back to those unseen enemies. I suppose I have to be true to myself and that is the only way out."

It was the middle of their tour when I interviewed Fumio. They had some days off, but I could see the guys were really exhausted. In Hiroshima, the venue was so small that not only the audience but also the musicians were feeling the deficiency of oxygen in the air. It hurt me to see the guys in the band being dashed out the back door before the encore just to get some fresh air. Drummer Shoji was completely knocked down and trombone player Muscle Masui's face was dead pale and never moved as he sat down on the ground. Trumpet player Ryo and guitarist Minami were flushed red in the face, and I could see steam rising out of their sweat over their heads and shoulders, too. Having seen their live performances like this many times before, it seemed to me that their tours are not just about playing music, they are like a survival race or something of that kind.

"Koba-ken once said laughingly that only about 30 percent of Kemuri is actually music and the rest is something like sports. That might be right, but, to me, 30 percent is music, another 30 percent is sports and the rest is... an adventure!"

Fumio was laughing and telling me about the story of their tour.

"Like in Niigata and Kanazawa, when we played live at tiny venues for more than an hour with full energy, it was so hot and lacking oxygen inside, in fact, that sometimes I could see the audience becoming fatigued more than we were on stage. Even when we were playing the most exciting part of a show and expecting the audience get really wild, I saw the kids get so tired that nobody could really move much and I felt so sorry for them. Yeah, it's hard, you know, touring all over. I flew to Sapporo for a promotional job, but the rest of the guys were drove up to Hokkaido. Do you know how long it took them to get there? It was bloody 18 hours! The time they spent was astonishing, but there was something more than - the weather. They experienced unseasonably heavy snow on the way and when they got to Sapporo, the surface of all the roads were frozen and our car was the only one with summer tires and chains! The day after the show, we had to leave for Akita at about six in the morning 'cause we had a gig there in the evening. Another solid 18 hours of travelling through snow was waiting for us. It was hard enough work to get there, but when we got to the venue and found it to be so small, all we could really say was, "What a hell!" The stage was so low and while we were playing the first song, about 50 people dashed onto it so we had to stop within a couple of minutes. Then again, I think it was during the fifth song we played that evening, because of a deficiency of oxygen in the air, one of our members fainted which stopped the music for about 20 minutes."

This sort of thing should be called cultural poverty in this country, because, apart from in a few major cities, there are not enough venues in our district capitals. There are plenty of seated halls throughout the country, even in the middle of nowhere, which are a waist of our tax money by the government. In these veneus we restricted to sitting and listening to music, but are there enough venues where we can dance, or stand still or lie down or... in other words, freely enjoy music? The answer is no. What we, our generation, call music is not quite music to those who have the power. It is impossible for Kemuri to have a gig at a seated hall as they play freedom music. This, too, is just another of the things they had to face to throughout their tour.

"To us, really, it does not matter if we play at a small venue 'cause we do the same thing, but the point is the audience - except for a few near the stage, nobody can see us playing our music and why do they have to suffer? That's so sad and so bad, you know.

"I suppose this is a matter of our cultural standards, but there is almost no venue for us in our district capitals. Maybe there are a few if we try hard to find them, but I just could not believe this poverty. The government can spend a hell of a lot of money to build a dam or highway or for shore protection work, but none for our actual people. Why not build a community center opened to rock musicians and kids? I suppose there are two kinds of people and this comes out in the gap between. One type are those who long for money and the others are those who trying to have a simple and beautiful life but with less power. What can we do about this? I know that we should do what we believe, but a single individual can not change the situation, right? I wonder how far we can go for that kind of issue as Kemuri, but, whatever happens, we should have a vision for the long term.

"At this stage, I just want to make Kemuri big. I mean, I want more people to hear our voice and songs 'cause a single voice cannot stand up against something big in this society. I just wanna be strong enough to reach onto that stage. We should have trust from a lot more people and a new type of organization as such is needed to change the situation, you know. I want to make it happen and to be one of the men who can make it happen. Without believing that, I don't think we can change anything."

With PMA, Kemuri has become big enough to reach more people than ever, but this is still only the beginning. There is a lot more they can do and want to do. I heard one of them is trying to organize a tour in Korea with their comrade Mike Park.

"It would be great to do a tour in Korea 'cause it is the nearest foreign country from here, so why not? No Japanese bands have done such a thing there yet. I hear from Mike that there is a Korean ska-punk band and they sent a copy of their material to him in return for 50 copies of his album. It might be an idea to get in touch with this band to do a tour together, either over there or the other way round. It would not cost that much money either 'cause Korea is a neighbor."

There are so many ideas for Kemuri in the new year and I hear that one well-known UK manager is interested in working with them in Europe. If that happens, they might organize a tour there as well, or they might tour the States again. But, whatever they may do, to Fumio, the usual sense of success means nothing if you read what he said toward the end of my internivew...

"I suppose I am just a tool after all. I am given a role to take and complete. That's it. This might sound something like a religion but... I think it is really. I am not talking about any particular religious group as such, but to me to pray or to believe is religion, you know. We are given a life to live on this planet and there is some kind of force to make us live. Yes, I am made to live, sing, and write..."

Whatever we are, we are given a life to live and each of us is someone special who cannot be replaced with anyone else. Like Fumio says, to complete one's life is to make this world better - no matter what one is doing. To him at this stage in his journey, it is to sing, to write and to play music, but he himself could never know what he will be like in the future. However the reason why Kemuri with PMA has been spreading like wildfire all over Japan - a dominated by the disposable waist of the lowest level of pop music is simply because there is the truth of life in their music. This small PMA movement might still be a part of a huge stream of time in history to make this world better and nobody knows exactly where this stream is headed, but one thing is clear: everyone who has experienced Kemuri play has been brought togheter through sharing the common thread behind the music they play.

written in Tokyo in December 98 for "In Natural"