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Jay I met through Ryan; he had filmed one of Jay's lively electronic music concerts and suggested he would be a good interview for a Justin TV Show. Later at his house, I watched a video with someone performing a dance - stalking an alien in a flourescent wig in a populated San Francisco bar. This was from video played during concerts by Bevin, of Blechdom from Blechdom, her brand of zippy genre absorbing technology-driven music.
But it was Martin I was most struck by - I knew when I'd seen his face that I had spent some time talking with him before. But he had no immediate recollection of me and so I let it pass.
Okura
They were staying at the Hotel Okura, a time capsule of Tokyo prestige from the 1960s. "Kissinger stays there," said John Nathan. Howard pointed out that he had checked in to his room there one time in line behind Steve Jobs. The rooms occupied by Matmos were nicely appointed and spacious for Tokyo. And they included a fax machine and access to ISDN speed internet. As it is located on a hill near a load of embassies, I don't see how it is a good place for anyone under the age of 40 staying in Tokyo, unless they are doing a 60s style study. Or they have an expense account and they can take cabs everywhere.
Okonomiyake
Though I had only been in town for a few weeks, I offered my servies as a guide of sorts. The first night I thought maybe they might enjoy Okonomiyake. As soon as we arrived at the restaurant, I realized that Okonomiyake requires a good deal of skill in order to execute properly. Fortunately they repliedwith great aplomb to burnt and half-cooked Japanese food ordered haltingly off a menu I couldn't read.
Posing for a picture - Justin, Martin, Drew, Jay, Monica
Outside of the Okonomiyake restaurant suggested by the Okura concierge. I was an amateur guide consulting a professional guide who used a computer to look up a restaurant for us. Everything turned out okay.
Tsukiji anyone?
I invited the assembled to see the top attraction available at dawn in Tokyo - the Tsukiji Wholesale Fish Market. Martin refused to participate in anything outside of his room before noon; the rest of the folks cheerfully agreed.
Jay photographs fish
Tsukiji market
Monica, Drew, Jay
Early morning Tokyo Taxi
Later, Jay met Ayako and I for some great fun in Shitamachi.
After they had performed in Tokyo a few times, I met them finally in Ueno where we wandered the lively public markets. We spent serious time in a toy store. Drew had an active eye for shoes and shirts that were just breaking fashion in other parts of the world. We ended up in a curry shop.
Martin, caught eating curry.
culmination
Matmos and Jay offered to help me get in to see their final show, at the space-age architected International Forum in Tokyo. It was sold out, but they were able to get one free ticket, and one ticket I could buy for Ayako.
Somehow Ayako and I decided to drive instead of taking the train, which made us about twenty minutes late. I went to the will call desk to ask for my "Justin Hall plus one" pass. You are here with a lady? The lady at the desk asked. Yes, I replied, Ayako at my side. Your lady friend has already taken her seat. Huh?
Some inquiry revealed that the date they were talking about was a tall, white woman with long blonde hair. As marvellous as that might have sounded I was both astounded and educated by her gall. Months earlier, I had tried a similar technique with Ryan, using other people's names to get into E3 parties (with their permission!). This confusion meant more than 25 minutes delay, as they checked and cross-checked with various folks, and eventually a German woman with darkened front teeth showed up. Are you Justin? She seemed surprised to see me.
Of course all of this had very little to do with Matmos, except that it meant we were standing in the lobby during Matmos performance and only saw them hit the stage with Bjork. During the concert, Martin walked on gravel, Drew used a crew cut haircut as an instrument; the two of them provided the master mix besides the rich Greenland girls's chorus and large orchestra. And of course, the lady Bjork herself.
In a minivan on the way to the afterparty, we all chatted. The travel coordinator from front seat mentions he likes trains. I say, trains turn landscape into media. Drew or Martin from Matmos mocks me. Bjork turns to ask, "what's media?"
We end up in a completely empty and dark mall 45 minutes outside of Tokyo; giant silent dark atriums. We wander through to the back, "Blue Nile" an Ethiopian restaurant hosting a banquet for Bjork. She has disappeared. The rest of us eat and drink, voraciously.
Of course all this was wonderful, and I can heartily commend these folks as witty world culture conoisseurs. But if you want to see what got them to Tokyo in the first place: Matmos and Lesser.
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