So how many acts do you know whose sound check passes for an opening track? Yeah, not many.

“Issho ni monogatari wo tsukuro-ze! Story!” And with that once upon a time, the six-piece, sax man Motoharu in velvet tiger shorts and the trumpeter Tabu Zombie with gear straight out of a Run DMC from the 80’s look-alike party, flanking Shacho “The Agitator” who spoke through a loudspeaker, our alternative jazz excursion in the Field of Heaven had begun. Or should I say “Death Jazz…”

The Mr. T Mohawk and sliced pork chop sideburns might not have gone with the Shacho’s bathrobe and silky tuxedo with frills, but the guys’ chemistry was irrefutable, the entire set through. Regardless of each musician’s individual style choice, their uber-tightness in the midst of free jazz explosions let you know why the Field of Heaven was so packed.

Having 10 years between their last Fuji Rock performance, actually at the same exact time on the same exact stage, they sure have come a long, long way.

The Agitator jumps down (a good 2 meters) off the stage and into the crowd, his pimp hat on the tilt, and grinning all the while. “C’mon everybody make noise!”

Until he realizes that he can’t get back on stage. “That was higher than I thought,” he jokes to the audience’s delight as he climbs up a ladder that the stage hand put down for him.

Akita Goldman on the upright bass, and Midorin on the drums each had their turns to solo. As did the sax man, whose face gone purple blowing so hard I was a little worried that massive vein in his head would pop, the smooth piano man Josei tickling and tapping his Roland keys stole the show.

After the entire crowd was La-lalalalalala-ing and then “Jump up!” says Shacho, Josei on the keys silenced the entire audience and had even his band mates’ mouths drop. I swear the bass player even shook his head and exhaled in utter disbelief at the commanding power that resounded through Josei’s fingers and out the speakers into the forest ether, touching each and every one of us listening intently and amazed at his commanding skill and tender spirit.

So call it jazz, alternative, ska, psychedelic, bebop, death jazz or whatever, it has all those bits and pieces. I call it excellent. Don’t miss Soil and Pimp Sessions if you have a chance to see them live. True performers in the threads and presence, talented musicians blowing and banging their hearts out.