Everyone experienced a very unique and completely different festival from past years due to holding the festival under extremely special circumstances of the COVID-19 Pandemic. Those differences were seen and hidden in various aspects of the festival, even before the grounds opened to everyone. Even while on the bullet train (shinkansen) to Echigo-Yuzawa Station or while waiting for the shuttle bus to the venue, people are usually happy and chatting. But this year, everyone had few words to exchange. Everyone lined up in an orderly manner at a reasonable distance from each other, with only the goal to reach Naeba. In order to conduct this year’s Fuji Rock Festival, the infection control guidelines were communicated to all staff, related parties, and to the customers. It was clear in every single person’s actions that they were thoroughly trying to follow these guidelines.

The yagura (Japanese Bon Dance tower) that is familiar to all and that is centrally located at Oasis was nowhere to be found this year. The usual scene of people dancing in a circle around it while loudly blasting the local anthem “Naeba Ondo” didn’t exist, either, on the eve of this year’s Fuji Rock. We didn’t get to document the 10-year tradition at Red Marquee of people shouting “I’m home” in response to MC’s call of “Welcome Back!”. Thursday night, the eve of the festival, is usually the first peak of the Fujirockers excitement blasting their joy and happiness of reaching one of the most precious events of a year after the long-awaited time. Even with a two year gap since the last time being at the festival in Naeba, they kept quiet and contained their eagerness.

Photo by MASAMI YASUE

Although we were informed officially that there would be no festival eve party as usual, the one thing that filled me with joy were the fireworks, which nobody knew were happening this year. Other years, the crowds would cheer at the sign of the beginning of the festival, but there were no such auditory reactions this time. However, I heard stories of people gasping or shedding some tears when the first firework burst this year. Overall, it appears like most people were solemnly looking up at that night sky full of fireworks. There was some applause but at the quiet venue, only the sound and light of the fireworks echoed; a scene right in front of our eyes that seemed to symbolize the “Special Fuji Rock”. Perhaps everyone understood it wasn’t easy to get to this point.

Influenced by the fact that, in the early stages of COVID-19 chaos, some clusters and spread of the infection came from concert venues and clubs, those places became a target to be avoided and, along with the government campaign to the public insisting “no activities of nonessential and unnecessary”, even the mass media started taking the live concerts and entertainment as a symbol of the things to be avoided. Many venues were forced to close down, not only depriving musicians and theater people of their work, but also lighting and sound technicians losing their jobs as well. Furthermore, festivals were being postponed or canceled left and right. Of course, we have to prevent the infection with no doubt, but at the same time, it’s undeniable that music and its culture are indispensable elements to our lives. This includes festival culture as well. In particular, Fuji Rock Festival gave birth to such a culture in Japan. It massively influenced a way of life to festival goers called “Fujirockers” as well as to all other small and large-scale festivals all over Japan. Not only did the organizers, but related organizations and local people along with Fujirockers believed that festival culture must not end – it has to survive and keep on going.

That wasn’t all. When Fuji Rock Festival announced the postponement last year, we heard rumors that the host town had asked if it could still somehow be held. The reason being, the economic impact produced by Fuji Rock. Its cancelation would have an immeasurable impact on the local community. It couldn’t be denied that if it was canceled two years in a row, the economic impact could have been devastating. This was another reason why the locals and organizers started looking for ways to safely host the festival. As a result, they decided to establish thorough infection prevention measures. This presented the spectators with some inconvenient and stubborn infection prevention guidelines. In addition, the audience capacity was reduced to about 25% of the original. As a result, the maximum number of people per day was just under 14,000, which is almost the same as filling the Nippon Budokan for a sporting event.

Is this even profitable? Surprisingly, the organizer supported ticket refunds for those who were worried about participating due to infection problems or who were not in good physical condition. Furthermore they even contacted ticket buyers and shipped antigen test kits to those who wished to take a test, which resulted in the majority partaking in testing. However, this was not good enough for the organizers who were aiming for 100% certainty and safety for all. Rumors have it that organizers ran east to west to collect a large number of antigen test kits needed. In addition to the medical tent inside the venue, a large number of medical personnel and three private emergency transport vehicles staked out in the back, ready to respond to any emergency. All staff members had to undergo PCR tests to prove that they were negative or they were not allowed to enter Naeba. In addition, long-term staff at the festival site have to repeat antigen testing on a regular basis. Even if one already entered the venue, they would be quickly ousted from the venue if a close contact was reported positive back home and without proving negative with a new test, they would be able to return. It was not only the spectators but also all the staff who had to partake in the daily temperature check in order to enter the venue. Some news sources used the term “high alert” and that’s exactly how the environment was at the festival.

Photo by KentaKUMEI

We, Fujirockers, worried that in the worst case, that Fuji Rock Festival this year would turn out to be nothing like the ones in previous history. Needless to say, the charm of Fuji Rock Festival is not in the line-up of the acts but the vibes of freedom and guarantee of independence that all of the attendees could feel & share. However, there was still an aspect where our hands were tied to follow necessary rules in order to control the infection. Plus, with Japan’s borders closed to non-residents due to COVID-19, the festival couldn’t host any acts from overseas. The UK team, the main force of the field direction and decoration, could not come to Japan, either. Considering all those factors, Fuji Rock would appear more like an outdoor concert surrounded by greenery rather than a festival in its true sense. In addition, alcohol sales were banned in the venue, and smoking was prohibited except for a few tiny areas located far from the main part of the festival site. Many vendors that have been familiar faces since Fuji Rock began in 1997 canceled this year. Above all, many familiar faces who have always enjoyed our annual gathering decided not to come.

All of the people involved in the festival and its organization were forced to make heartbreaking decisions and choices. Especially when the number of people infected with the new COVID-19 strains started to increase rapidly in the major cities, there were conflicting voices bubbling up all over. Some echoed that the festival “needed to be canceled,” and others pleaded to “conduct it somehow”. Various voices were heard from the artists and performers themselves; those who planned to appear and those who painfully chose not to. Whether they ultimately participated or not, I pay tribute to their involvement and seriously taking Fuji Rock into consideration. I extend my gratitude to each and every one of you who came, and to every individual who decided not to come. A shoutout to those who voiced concern and to those who voiced support, the artists who performed and the artists who declined. No matter where everyone was mentally or physically, I believe that Fuji Rock has become a big presence in many people’s lives. For that, I know that whatever decision you made was not an easy one, so I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

At the festival grounds, we were all overwhelmed by the audience who respectfully followed the health and safety regulations put in place to prevent infection. I didn’t see anyone without a mask on, except in the smoking or food areas. What I realized when I was eating was how quiet it was as almost no conversations were heard. It seems painful to follow the cautionary note that says, “please eat quietly”. I saw friends meeting up, wanting to shake hands or hug each other but hesitantly opt for elbow and fist bumps as greetings instead. Conversations happened with masks on, but no one was talking loudly. I also witnessed people taking a look around to make sure no one was close by when simply taking a sip of water.

Normally, there is only an MC for the Green Stage, but this year, there was one at every stage as a means for ongoing communication with the audience before and after artist appearances.

“Please be sure to wear your mask that covers your nose and do not speak out loud. Check the markers on the ground to keep a safe distance. In front of the stage, please do not bring in food or drinks except water bottles for hydration.”

MCs were given manuals and obliged to make the same announcement to the audience every time. It was, after all, to prevent infection.

These were unprecedented sights at past festivals and live shows. No matter how incredible the performance was, barely any cheers were heard, only applause and clapping. Regardless, the positive energy from the crowd was felt on stage. That energy was reciprocated by the artists themselves, who shared in the same struggles as the audience to participate. Those feelings made for extra passionate and emotional connections with one another. It didn’t matter how many were in attendance, even if it was a small stage with only a handful of audience members. Many others would be able to witness the performances later on on YouTube, but to witness it in person was something else. There was an unspeakable energy that was uniquely born at this year’s festival.

Photo by MITCH IKEDA

Photo by Eriko Kondo

In a rare appearance, Chief Producer General Hidaka stood on the Green Stage twice. On the first day, he stood on stage to announce that two friends who were major supporters and comrades working together with Fuji Rock had passed away. Second time was with Denki Groove, who were the headliners on Sunday. When I spoke to him the following day, he said that what he felt on stage from the audience was so strong. It was “the enthusiasm of them trying to support Fuji Rock”. What he felt was not only the fact that everyone was respectfully following the health and safety guidance, but it was also the reproduction of the miracle that took place in Naeba back in 1999. That year was the result of the Fujirockers’ last hope of a festival location after the disasters of 1997. In 1999, there was almost no trash when the venue closed – same at the end of this year. The iPledge team, which supports the Trash Zero Navigation initiative every year, said that they barely had any trash to collect nor work to do except for managing the garbage tents around the festival.

According to an official statement released by the organizers on August 24th, after the festival ended, there were “no positive cases confirmed at the venue during the festival”. However, that’s not the end. They went on to state: “We will continue to collect information over time and report the results to everyone again, which will lead to improvements in infection control measures at future festivals”. It may be too early to reflect on everything, but everyone involved in keeping the festival safe, the locals, and everyone who ventured out from all over the country to those who chose not to — we, Fujirockers, send our deepest gratitude to say that we have been able to successfully reach this point.

Fuji Rock has faced many tests and turmoil in the past. In its first year in 1997, a major typhoon struck, leaving everyone in a dire situation. However, its first major test in survival was in 1999 when the venue was moved to Naeba. Attendees demonstrated compassion and love for one another against the prejudice that “rock festivals are dangerous,” by proving a little “miracle” to not only the venue but also to the hotels, guesthouses, and to the whole town of Naeba by not leaving a trace of trash or damage behind. This created the tradition of “cultivating festivals along with the locals”. Since then, Fuji Rock has endured and grown with many challenges such as storms or the heaviest ever rain recorded in the area. But this time, it faced an unprecedented viral and global crisis. As mentioned above, it is too early to draw a definite conclusion regarding COVID-19 at the festival. But to all those involved in Fuji Rock, with the love and effort, we made a “miracle” happen of an infection free festival even under the pandemic. There is no doubt that we had a historical Fuji Rock; nobody could and would ignore that fact.

We hear many differentiating opinions and ways of thinking within the music world that is causing some divide. But I believe that it’s natural for festival and music lovers to recognize diversity and to respect and accept each other’s actions and choices. I do hope that we can use this year’s experience as a basis for next year’s festival. At this point, no one can predict how long the effects of this virus will last, but I do hope that one day, we can get together at this same place in Naeba again without worrying about it. With that hope, I would like to close the curtain on this year’s Express.

Lastly, I would like to give my utmost appreciation to the staff who made major moves during this difficult situation. Masks and face shields given, it was not easy to report and cover the weekend while consciously keeping a safe distance. I also thank the staff members who operated the Fujirockers lounge by creating additional and well-prepared infection control measures. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Below are the staff who helped deliver the festival this year.

Japanese Team: http://fujirockexpress.net/21
– Photographers: Ryota Mori, Yoshitaka Kogawa, Keiko Hirakawa, Yusuke Kitamura, MITCH IKEDA, Arimoto Shinya, MASAMI YASUE, KentaKUMEI, Ayaka Shirai, HARA MASAMI, Omiso, suguta, Takanobu Shiga, Tetsuro Sato
– Writers: Ryohei Maruyama, Kohei Abe, Yuka Ishizumi, ataso, ayano kajiwara, Hitoshi Abe, Eriko Kondo, Nobuyuki Ikeda, Takafumi Miura, IZUMI AZUMA

English Team: http://fujirockexpress.net/21e/
– Writers: Laurier Tiernan, Jonathan Cooper, Nina Cataldo

Fuji Rockers Lounge: Mika Iimori, obacchi, Fujihara Yamato

Website production & update: Tomoki Hiranuma (Program Developer), Daisuke Sakaue (Design), Yuichi Hazama

Special Thanks: Tetsuya Mitsuishi, Shuhei Wakabayashi, Masaya Morita, Park Baker, all the staff who worked hard to protect the audience, and the audience who overcame the challenges and conveyed the splendour of a festival.

Producer: Koichi Hanafusa

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fujirockers.org is a community site for Fujirockers, people who love Fuji Rock. It is rooted in BBS of the official site of Fuji Rock Festival, originally produced by Koichi Hanafusa. In 1997 straight after the first festival was a disaster hit by a typhoon, BBS left and became a fully independent website with support and cooperation of the organizers. We publish our own coverage not only on Fuji Rock Festival but anything related to domestic and overseas festivals and their cultures. During the annual Fuji Rock Festival, we operate Fuji Rock Express to deliver unique, exciting, breaking, and up-to-date news straight from the venue.

*Please note : As we are not a part of the organizers of Fuji Rock Festival, we are not in position to respond to any inquiries about booking, press or ticketing as such. Please visit:
http://fujirockers.org/

*This is perhaps the first ever English translation of the closing article written by Koichi Hanafusa, the founder of fujirockers.org and the producer of Fuji Rock Express. A Japanese version is written at the end of every Fuji Rock Express. This translation was done by Nina Cataldo.

01. 4s4ki

At times running around like an anime character putting out fires, and then running elsewhere to quarrel with some unnamed lover, it was clear from the get-go that this fresh face had a lot going on. Far from the plastic madness of someone like Kyary Pamyu Pamyu, it was evident that this young woman struggles with some mental health issues. However, the glorious turnaround is that she wields them like Dali. Rapid, multiple changes in genre, tempo and arrangements – a recipe for disaster in the hands of almost anyone – were gracefully and masterfully molded before our very eyes into (as her most recent album title states) a Castle in Madness. She might as well have been a half-Japanese child of Björk. And, at other times she showed us that she could also play guitar with the passion of Kurt Cobain, as well as with the poised calm of James Hetfield. Surely a force to be reckoned with in the coming years, she just released a new music video, and a new release is coming out before year’s end.

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02. ReN

Similar to 4s4ki’s, ReN’s self-appointed mission would be a disaster in most people’s hands. Wielding the engagement of a famous power trio all by his lonesome from the middle of the stage, like Ed Sheeran in days of yore, ReN built funky soundscapes using only his guitar and a looping pedal. And, every single time, they grew into such pop songs which could ascend into the charts, if justice may be found. Throughout his shiny sixty-minute set, nary a crack was to be found. Lyrically, also, especially in this age of chaos, his indefatigable positivity served as a welcome balm. On one track he crooned, “You’ll be fine. I’ll be fine,” and, on another, he sang the mantra, “We are the lights” over and over again, as his soundscape increased in beauty.

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04. Kan Sano

For me, this was the group that proved to be the most surprising, this year. Walking onstage in garments that made them look like art gallery staff, Kan Sano served funk with advanced degrees from the college of Prince. Odd chord changes – and choices – seemed to flow like a raging river. And yet, all the while, the funk stayed as solid as a grandmother’s fudge. Also, not just content to stretch the limits of what people can dance to, with fifteen minutes left in their set they stretched things out into hard jazz, before shifting back into 4/4, as a disco ball spun overhead. Many of the better acts on the smaller stages at Fuji Rock graduate to the bigger ones in later years. Ideally we’ll see that happen for Kan Sano as well.

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05. KEMURI

Although my aversion to horn sections kept me away from ska in the past, KEMURI were a force to behold at Fuji Rock Festival ’21; partially because of how much their positivity is needed right now. Even before the band walked onstage, one noticed a subtitle on their banner reading, “Positive Mental Attitude”. And, throughout their ferocious set which mixed punk, hardcore, and ska, lyrics consistently offered people messages of hope, as well as reminders to stay positive, especially in trying times. During an emotional speech in the middle of their stage time, lead singer Fumio Ito started crying as he admitted that his band had debated whether they should play this year, but when they all found out that they had passed their PCR tests, they decided it was vital that they bring positivity to the people. And, that, they did exemplarily.

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HONORABLE MENTION: SEAPOOL

I didn’t get the chance to cover their performance, but was lucky enough to catch some of their sound check, and immediately gave them my card and an offer to write about them in the media. These two young women on bass and guitar, and a young man behind them commanding the drum stool held their own with the heaviness of giants from the humble setting of Rookie a Go-Go. Comparisons could be drawn to The Breeders or The Cranberries, but that would denigrate their own freshness and originality. If anyone likes heavy music delivered in a vivifying way, taking in a Seapool show is sure to prove a treat!

SPECIAL THANKS TO: The People!

Honestly, maybe it was partially because we were all tired of harsh conditions – like the Canadian winters that seem to make that nation’s people kind – but everyone at Fuji Rock ’21 seemed to glow with empathy. There were no fights to be seen or heard, everyone gave each other space, and everyone in attendance seem to speak to others with kindness. So, here’s a cheers to you, everyone who spent the weekend in Naeba! You were the honorary stars of the show! And, I salute you.

1. Shintaro Sakamoto

I love this guy. Absolutely love him. Yura Yura Teikoku was one of the first bands that really got me into Japanese rock music, and one of my great regrets in life has been never quite being able to make seeing one of their shows fit my schedule. Then they broke up. Tragic. But I’m not entirely convinced I would trade a solo show like his Friday one for a chance to go back in time to see Yura-Tei perform. I might, but I’m not sure. It was that good. The set was weird, funky, sexy, dreamlike and totally did things for me that few performers do. Totally dug it, fantastic set.

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2. Gezan

I have been a fan of these guys since they were just just little punk pups, and to see how far they have come almost makes me proud. Their 2019 performance was one of my favorite of the year, with its raw creativity and energy, but it was nothing compared to what they brought to the table this year. It truly felt like stumbling across a ritual to an eldritch god, just with a lot more guitar and a lot more rapping. The same amount of screaming I think. If you haven’t had a chance to see Tribe of Discord, the 2019 documentary film about them, I suggest checking it out. Also, of course, get yourself to a Gezan show if you’ve never been! You won’t regret it. Or at least you won’t soon forget it.

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3. Number Girl

Maaaan, these guys absolutely rocked. I was in Hokkaido when their first post-reunion Rising Sun gig was slated to happen, and when their day got cancelled by a typhoon I saw the utter dejection on the faces of people who had traveled from all over the country just to see them perform. And I can see why. They played as fast and loud and aggressively as they did in their heyday, and it was kind of magical to see a band risen from the grave sound as fresh as they did in 2002.

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4. Susumu Hirasawa

I really like P-Model, especially their early stuff, but tracking Hirasawa’s musical evolution since then is fascinating. The music is always great, but the ambition of what he does with his shows is stunning. Seriously, using a Tesla coil on stage like an instrument? Who comes up with an idea like that? Well, Hirasawa does. It was a fun, weird show to end a fun, Weird festival.

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5. The People

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if things were going to go off smoothly this year regarding safety measures. I wasn’t convinced people were going to follow social distancing or masking guideless, much less no alcohol ones. I was mistaken. People were genuinely considerate and really, really followed the rules. Even though trying to get a band out for an encore without being able to ‘woo’, or bumping into an old friend and having to just wave awkwardly from a distance, or drinking yet another Pocari Sweat because apparently beverages are just for hydration this year, made for a strange experience, it put my heart a little more at ease. I generally do not like saying things like this, but I don’t think this sort of thing could have worked anywhere but Japan. So thank you everyone, for being so mindful and respectful. And thank you for allowing us all to enjoy some live music, an essential element of life that we have all been lacking for too long.

RUNNER UP – FINALBY( )

I have never seen anything quite like that before, nor do I think I ever will again. I’m also not sure I’ll be able to look at traffic cones the same way.

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The band themselves have evolved from a raw and wacky deep punk-rock band into something altogether more mature, compelling and wonderfully confusing. The leader of the whole circus, Mahi to the People, has become a maestro of madness as Gezan has grown more and more artistically ambitious.

Their set began with the stage bathed in the band’s signature red, and a refrain of tribal wailing, before revealing the set’s two first surprises – a brief flurry of bagpipes and a full backing choir like red dressed cult members. And Mahi on atonal trumpet wearing an antlered shamanistic shroud adorned with three glowing red eyes. See, told ya it was gonna be wild.

Mahi bark-rapped his way through Chuken, and it was everything the crowd could do to obey social distancing procedures and not erupt into a wild moshing frenzy. Punctuated shouts from the choir and staccato sitar-esque work from the guitars capped the whole experience off as the start of a weird, mystic journey – world music, but unclear from what world.

Their second song, Extacy, rolled on the beat, adding a layer of trance inducing deep synth bass, punctuated by more guttural animal chanting from the choir. Mahi’s repeated phrase ‘I don’t care’ seemed to be a vocal repudiation of all the conventions he was tearing apart. The set propelled on into Replicant, without even a moment’s pause between songs. Hearts were racing and the tension was at nearly unbearable levels like the nightmare phase of a mescaline trip, and we were only ten minutes in. Phew.

Enough time had passed without anything totally insane happening, so time for a short, demented cover of Get Up, Stand Up, or at least the refrain repeated over droning guitar and pounding tribal drums. The following song, Tokyo, saw Mahi remove his headdress to reveal his beautiful, straight, hip length hair, and things relaxed (comparatively) for a precious few moments. For the next song, Suiten, the choir held sustained notes like Tuvan throat singers for the first third of the anthemic ballad before joining Mahi like a gospel choir for the chorus. Despite the deep weirdness of it all, it seemed somehow to all make sense in the context Gezan framed.

At this point the band paused to address the crowd and take a breath. After all, they are only human (presumably). The choir departed, and Gezan carried on at a more reasonable headcount. This was also when the rain started absolutely pouring. Perhaps the weather gods demanded a bigger sound from the band? Or perhaps they were upset that the song they chose to return from their break with was No God? Hard to say, divine powers can be inscrutable at times.

After a few dabbling tunes, Body Odd saw Gezan go full on strange rap rock, complete with guest vocals to help Mahi scream rap his way through a chaotic tornado of discordant hardcore. After a lengthy talk about the present and future state of the world, the band ended the set in the most unpredictable way possible, with a fairly straight-forward tune. Didn’t see that one coming! Not to say that DNA isn’t a great song, by many measures its their most popular, just that it feels a little bit like just a song compared to the rest of their set. Perhaps we all needed a little comedown, and after all it was still a great song performed by a great band.

But then it happened, already a few minutes over time (unheard of), Mahi pulled his choir back out and a took on a sweet, tame, nearly acapella version of Linda Lilinda. It was a strangely innocent way to close after such a visceral set. But, of course, it was very Gezan to do a very strange thing for an encore. ‘I don’t care’ indeed.

Around the world, Sunday is traditionally a day set aside by many for communion with higher powers. For those at the Red Marquee, that happened to be the animistic deity, bathed in red, which is GEZAN.

As a warbling background of video depicted twisted urban scenes, and “mentally ill” flashing sequences of imagery across the back screen, 4s4ki alternatively presented herself like the dancer for Sia’s earliest videos, or a veteran heavy metal vocalist.

The music displayed elements of hiphop and glitch, but was probably leaning towards “Yami Kawaii”; a newish Japanese fashion of mixing cuteness with mental illness; Being that 4s4ki’s latest album is called “Castle in Madness,” this is, of course, fitting.

Her musical performance combined with the video and lighting visuals gave a disconcerting effect. It would be a purely alien experience to most people in this world. However, the overall effect remains an engaging one; like one is drawn to find out more about what is going on, regardless of how weird it may seem; as if seeing an alien craft crash nearby, and feeling unable to do otherwise but to go over and investigate.

As she performed under overwhelming white lighting, it was sometimes hard to make out precise details of her figure, but one COULD see the outline of her playing guitar aggressively on the third song. She then continued to do so, as a DJ – like a black outline behind her – triggered her backing tracks.

Fifteen minutes into her set, 4s4ki’s started a slower song with a background of blue water imagery dancing behind her red torii gate. And, as she sang about the Moon, it started to rise on the screen, taking the place of the water. As the song came to an end, and the audience applauded, she handed her guitar to a roadie and thanked the thousands of fans in attendance for coming to see her despite all difficulties.

With one lone white spotlight beaming down from above her red torii gate onto her pink-haired head, she pulled up to a keyboard at waist height and played a plaintive piano ballad all by herself. Midway through, the pace started picking up, and her vocals started speeding up as if in a rant against an uncomprehending lover. “Kimi, DOUSHITE,” (WHY do you,) she sang, as if crying to a lover. And, then she sang, “Tadaima” (I’m home) as the last piano chords died out. After about ten seconds of silence, where the audience seemed to wonder what to do, the crowd started applauding enthusiastically.

4s4ki then started yet another song alone, with a keyboard patch that sounded like bells, and a vocal line that sounded like another insane rant against a lover. Then she went silent and reappeared seconds later on center stage singing with white beams of light streaming behind her. As the track picked up in a hip-hop beat resembling industrial drills, a trio of X’s lit up the stage with white light, and 4s4ki sang at the audience like the combination of a woman coming undone, and the Queen of her own empire. As she ran off to stage left in the second of silence for the prechorus, she leapt into the air and the bright light caught her pink hair as if in an action movie sequence before she ended the song and the audience applauded wildly again.

For the following number, as with the first few songs, disconcerting imagery scrolled across the back screen in orchestrated madness, as the track drove on like a dirty glitchy drum n bass track. For the breakdown, four beams of white light framed her figure on center stage as she seemed to sing in triumph while images of old-school computers whose screens bore her image rotated on the video screen behind her.

Without taking a break between songs, the next track started up in the closest version to a Beyoncé number that a Japanese person could muster, but the glitch starting to crawl back in, the bass got incredibly dirty, and 4s4ki delivered her vocal cues while running about the stage and gesticulating at the audience as if to say, “Yeah, maybe I’m nuts, but, do you know what? This is MY world!” And, indeed, for whatever demons might be troubling this young woman, on this stage tonight – and on these recordings – she IS triumphing.

With twelve minutes left in her stage time, 4s4ki played a song with odd syncopated kick drum hits like mattresses hitting an apartment floor, and a meandering vocal line akin to a traditional asian folk song trying to be remembered by a small child high on sugar.

Quickly shifting into the next song, 4s4ki squealed “The next song is the before-last one! Thank you, eh!” and she was already off and running around the stage as if there were some manner of emergency. As the song hit a musical breakdown, 4s4ki manned center stage and got the audience of thousands clapping over their heads to the beat, before the track morphed momentarily into something resembling a Pet Shop Boys hit, but which once again shifted into a vintage computer’s nightmare music. Before the end of the track, it shifted again to hard trance during which 4s4ki delivered vocals like vocaloid samples. The number eventually ended on a sample akin to a twisted old-school video game sample while 4s4ki’s vocals resembled a furiously delivered monologue heard through a broken telephone. The word “obon” scrolled across the back screen in various neon colours, indicating that this song was about the Japanese festival to honor one’s late relatives; which takes place every August. All in all, 4s4ki is probably the artist Kyary Pamyu Pamyu’s management wishes she had been.

As the song finally ended on a twisted version of a vintage video game’s theme, 4s4ki gently said, “this next song is the last one for real! Thank you so very much for coming out! Please enjoy Fuji Rock until the very end.” And, the last song proved to be the most normal offering of the bunch; a two minute glitchy drum’n’bass number with nothing terribly eccentric about it. After the last note faded, 4s4ki cried out, “Thank you very much, I am 4s4ki!”. Then the audience applauded and left the venue.

Without even stopping in between the first two songs, the lead singer quickly said “thank you!” to which the audience applauded, as Mono no Aware ploughed into their next number; built around jangly single-coil guitars, winding bass, and heavy kick and floor-tom action. This four-piece is an outfit that entertains no artifice, and takes no prisoners. It is here to deliver anthemic, clean rock, in as pure a manner as possible. And, the thousands of fans both inside and outside of the Red Marquee hung on their every word and note; dancing in place, swaying from side to side, and throwing the occasional fist in the air.

After taking a few seconds of break in between their second and third number to thank the audience (and presumably to check their tuning) Mono no Aware were off again, with a track that – while distinctly Japanese – bore a heavy influence from David Byrne or the Talking Heads; apart from the largely hip-hop drumming. As soon as I wrote that sentence, the drummer broke into a rhythm which seemed distinctly borrowed from taiko music; as if to defy any expectations.

In between their third and fourth song, the lead singer took a breather to name his band, and to thank the audience for coming out. After the crowd applauded, Mono no Aware jumped into a largely funky number with a disco feel and Red Hot Chili Pepper rap-like vocals on the verses. The lyrics, however, seemed to contain many Japanese tongue twisters. In truth, as their performance drew on, it became apparent that Mono no Aware’s aesthetic intentionally leaned on their cultural heritage. And, as this latest song came to an end, the band received perhaps the most enthusiastic round of applause at this year’s Fuji Rock, so far.

Bathed in pink lighting from overhead, with their colorful logo on a black screen behind them, Mono no Aware then tore into another lively number, like a hybrid between surf guitar and traditional Japanese music; by way of country harmonies. In short, this band are masters of “musicology”. Their appreciative fans held fists in the air, as a symbolic declaration of victory for their heroes.

Twenty-two minutes into their set, Mono no Aware launched into yet another energetic indie rock tune, which blended Japanese festival music and surf guitar.

Almost half-way through their stage time, the band started a number whose intro borrowed a lot from The Cure (who performed here in 2019) – but whose verses bore more of a resemblance to Death Cab for Cutie – as the smoke behind them lit up with blue light, and white searchlights scanned them from above. As Cure-like leads echoed out during a breakdown, it was apparent that more and more fans had started crowding the open space outside the venue. As Mono no Aware then kicked into a loop of the chorus to end the song, and the lights above them burned bright yellow, fists of their fans punctuated each beat. And then, the tune’s last bit of delay blended into the leads of the following song’s intro.

With twenty minutes left in their set, Mono no Aware took a few minutes to thank their fans for coming, to warn them to be careful in the rain, and to ask them to enjoy the rest of the festival. The crowd then erupted into an extended thunderous wave of applause.

As only fourteen minutes remained in their set time, the stage lights above the band’s heads exploded in bursts of white, as Mono no Aware ploughed through a mid-tempo number with heavy tom fills on the pre-choruses, as well as sixteenth-note helicopter delay on the guitar for the choruses. The large crowd standing before them danced joyously to the vigorous music, and raised their fists in support during the anthemic choruses; which seemed to be about their love for Tokyo; as the city’s name was repeated over and over again in a gang-vocal style.

As thunder cracked outside before the last song, the band took a short break to thank the audience; not only thanking those present physically, but also those who could not be here in person today. The lead singer then said the next song would be the last of their set this afternoon. As they drove through an indie rock number deeply steeped in a “vintage Japanese” flavor, thousands of fans swayed gently from side to side, or lightly bobbed at the knees to each beat. One fan in a black baseball cap, a black t-shirt, and a yellow Tower Records towel around his neck, nodded his head and rocked out in place as if overcome by memories of better times. Another male fan behind him – in a black rain hat and a blue raincoat – kept his right hand in the air almost for the entire number. As the track finally ended, and the lead singer calmly said, “Domo, arigatou!” thunderous applause erupted in the venue; so loud that it drowned out the falling rain outside.