Originally published on metropolis.co.jp on December 2011
It’s been seven years since his last album, but it’s not as if archetypal Japanese hip-hop turntablist DJ Krush has been sitting on his haunches.
Yes, he’s become a grandfather, but onetime yakuza member Hideaki Ishi continues to record and tour tirelessly—he’s even got 7,500 “likes” for his Facebook page (a fan page has 40,000), and millions of YouTube views with comments in a Babel of languages.
“iTunes didn’t exist, and music technology was mostly analog,” Krush recalls as he marks 20 years since his major label debut. “We learned how to play turntables like you would a guitar—now we use turntable-based systems like Serato to retain an analog touch. For scratch artists it’s key.”
Beginning with his self-titled debut and running from his 1994 landmark Strictly Turntablized through to his recent digital singles, Krush’s career has been one continuous quest—perhaps partly an attempt to distance himself from an ugly past. Parting ways with Sony, he’s now on his own, navigating the waters of a music business turned upside down by the internet.
“The net makes music convenient, but it’s turned it into a disposable commodity,” he observes over coffee in Shibuya. “For artists who make our living selling songs, we’re forced to reconsider the way we package and sell our creations.
“Even if we put a lot of thought into creating an album that’s a coherent artwork, people will just listen to songs separately, which is a bit sad,” the soft-spoken scratch artist continues. “At the same time, I’ve started releasing individual songs, and when I think of fans sitting in front of their computers waiting for a new track, I want to meet their expectations.”
Krush launches his third decade in music with a series of digital releases and a world tour that takes him from Australia to China. “I’m planning an album for next year, so we’re experimenting with these downloads to see what form it should take,” he explains. “With Sony I had to use their download site instead of iTunes, so we didn’t really have any data on my releases. There’s a lot we have to do ourselves now, but on the other hand there’s also more freedom.”
Has the debasement of recorded music by the internet led to a rise in value of the performance itself? “Playing for people is even more important in the digital era,” Krush affirms. “There are things you just can’t get across except for in the live venue.”
Krush’s early, moody releases in some ways set the template for the past decade’s glitch—and other associated hyphenated hip-hop movements. It’s hard not to think that, without him, there wouldn’t have been a DJ Shadow or Flying Lotus.
“I hear things that sound familiar, but at the same time I don’t compete with them,” Krush muses. “It’s a complicated relationship with people who come after you but pursue a similar musical style.”
Twenty-eight years since he came across the pioneering hip-hop film Wild Style and gave up delinquent ways for a career in music, Krush is still searching. “The more I do it, the more I get drawn into it,” he says. “I feel like my career has been about always reaching for something. It may never be in my grasp, but what’s important is to continue to reach. Music is so deep and broad that I never lose interest. If you do find what you’re looking for, then maybe it’s your time to die. If I go to heaven, there will be many artists there, and I can have a session with them.”
A decade since Metropolis first spoke to Krush, his determination remains undimmed. “A lot has happened in Japan this year, but as always, I’ll internalize my experiences and then express them through my music,” he says. “Making music is really important to me, and my music never lies. So I’ll continue to paint honest paintings, as it were. The kids—my grandchildren even—are watching me.”
Club Asia, Dec 22; Unit, Dec 31 (listing). “Shuya no Chiheisen” (Sleepless Horizon) is available on iTunes. Info: www.sus81.jp/djkrush
