Jetlag in Japan: With "The USA is a Monster" Tour

Lots of people fly way more than I do, I’m sure, but from the last seven years of touring with the Usa is a Monster, my passport has no empty pages. One of the main reasons to get on the road with the band was to see some of the world in what seemed like the best possible way. Playing music. For other people. Vans, cars, trains, planes…. I feel in my element looking out a window and seeing the world cruise by. But I always have these waking moments when I enter the spirit world and the forward motion of my body in space is my only grasp on reality. It’s a place of tones and untangible emotion. I don’t know where or what it is. It’s sort of like a déjà vu. I searched through my old tour notebooks and found this example of some stuff I scribbled down, waking up in the rental van, somewhere in the UK: “The black pony: during three hours of sleep I dreamt of a black pony. Not much context, I remember the small black face...a dark, intent and understanding horse, maybe the size of a large dog.” On the flight from New York to Tokyo, I had one of these moments.That’s a long flight no matter how you slice it. I had fallen asleep drinking beer somewhere into my third movie of the flight. Hugh Grant was in it. I did not write that dream down.... Oh, man, do you ever have that moment when you take a piss on the airplane and you wonder, “What is directly below me right now, down there, 4,500 feet below? Maybe a giant squid, and little does he know, but...”

The first Japan gig was in Enoshima, a beach town about a 45 minute drive south of Tokyo. We arrived in the dark. I could hear and smell the beach, but it was not until sunrise that I beheld a breathtaking view out the bay windows of the club. The show started late and just kept going. I think we played third out of five bands. Playing was challenging, as is every first gig of an overseas tour. Setting up borrowed equipment for the first time, running on adrenaline that only lasts so long after a few Sapporos. When we finished, I was tired, and the night was far from over. I entered a long, jet lagged delirium, trying to hang out and then scoping out possible crash spots around the club. Then the sun came up, and it was so beautiful I almost cried. There in the twilight was a beach with waves and rocky cliffs. The smiling, positive jam music of the band that was playing snapped into focus. It was perfect. Everything was perfect. My fatigue disappeared, and I was in love with the music, the people, the beach, the sun, everything. And I was sure that everyone in the room was having similar feelings. I’m telling you, the best high. Next time you fly halfway around the world, don’t sleep. Go to a beach, stay up all night and watch the sunrise.

Kyoto
We stayed with Hide. We know Hide because our old band, Bullroarer, played with his band in Boston in 1998, Ultra Bide. Back then, he lived in New York and was making records on the Alternative Tentacles label. He did not necessarily remember us from that show, but he was superpsyched on us knowing his band, and he played with us on four of the Japan shows with no less than four of his musical projects, the current line up of Ultra Bide being one of these. Maki, our friend and tour organizer, made that happen. Hanging out with Hide was superfun. I was really impressed by his forty-something lifestyle. He lives alone in a nice place above his parents and has a studio up in there and is just rocking harder than ever. His parents were amazing, too. They came to the show on a Saturday night and just packed on in there with everyone and had a great time. His dad bought me several drinks.

The first night sleeping at Hide’s, I woke up at 5:40 a.m. from the jet lag. I decided an early morning walk would be good. How often do I get to see this part of the day? No need to worry about a corner store being open on the quiet tree lined avenue. The vending machine on the corner had a perfect can of hot coffee. I walked in the direction of the river, not seeing anybody else until I crossed a street and cut through a break in some bushes to get to a riverside park. I almost walked right into the naked ass of a woman who was squatted down taking a piss in what she thought was a chill place. She must have been walking to work along the river or something. I really startled her, and she jumped up and walked away fast. How often do you see a full moon at sunrise?

Later that day (well, early the next morning really), after the gig, we were winding down at Hide’s place,
drinking some sake. Some friends of Hide came in from the country, and they had some homegrown. That was my first Japan weed, and it was very nice. One of the friends, an older woman, used to live in the States and was the only English speaker in that crew, so I rapped with her and was really enjoying myself. Ports, our American buddy and tour photographer, was passed out on the floor, sawing away on his bedroll. All of a sudden, he sat bolt up in bed and a long, loud, string of incoherent  sounds came out of his mouth. It was pure animism. Some local spirit was uttering an ancient, forgotten tongue in our very midst using Ports’ body as a vehicle! My reaction time was just a little too slow. By the time I pressed record on my tape recorder, the spirit was gone and Ports was peacefully prostrate. I was so close! I’ve always wanted to record something like that. It would have been an awesome answering machine message.

Saturday market, Osaka
In Osaka, we played with Afrirampo at a club owned by the guitar player from the Boredoms. That show was really fun, a small place all packed in and Afrirampo did a cool set where they came in and jammed acoustic on the floor while burning incense before moving to the stage and shredding. That night, we had an awesome slumber party at Shinji and Pikachu’s place after hitting a late-night food spot. A sort of Japanese Denny’s. Anyhow, I fell asleep watching Blue Planet. In the morning, Shinji and Pikachu took us to a big market that happens every Saturday inside this old temple grounds. As you go through the entrance gate, there is this thing that looks sort of like a ship’s wheel that you spin for good luck. Inside was this incredible mixture of religious temple activities and an all out rummage bazaar. The denizens were mostly in that latter half of the human life span and the vendors were all spread out with just incredible amounts of junk for sale everywhere. One spot I remember that sort of summed the whole up was a rug that had on it, among other things, a rusty old piece of Samurai armor and a Hulk Hogan LP. In the middle of the temple/market was a murky pond with hundreds of turtles in it. The water was incredibly foul and stank to high heaven, but mixing with that smell and almost overpowering it was that wafting incense smoke from the door of the main temple where you could lift a small Buddha statue in order to determine the future of your day. If the Buddha feels heavy, Pikachu explained, this does not bode well. If it feels light, then, it’s all good. So, I bought some incense to stick in the sand and took my turn with the Buddha lift. It was sort of a hard call. I was not like, “Damn, this Buddha is light” but at the same time I was not thinking, “Damn, this Buddha is heavy.” Well, the rest of the day was fine...