Dacota Speaker

Mizutama Online

And the music itself? Not enough chaos, to be honest. I enjoy 2Much Crew‘s shambolic, Throbbing Gristle-inspired bastardization of hip-hop, and find Barom One—a trio of MC, skronking tenor saxophonist and belly dancer—as compelling as they are deeply, deeply rum. But with the noiseniks confined to one of the more obscure corners of the venue, and the mildly deranged Oshiri Penpenz and Maruosa already finished by just after 2pm, most of the remaining entertainment comes from indie groups who don’t seem to know how to rise to the occasion, and DJs who could (and indeed do) keep spinning even if there was no-one listening.

Shibusashirazu Orchestra come closest to providing a spectacle to match the gargantuan surroundings, and I also catch strong sets by nu-prog outfit Ore wa Konna Mon Ja Nai and dub-emo-math-funk three-piece Dacota Speaker. Septuagenarian poet Kazuko Shiraishi reads off a seemingly never-ending scroll to subtle musical accompaniment, though she’s all but smothered out by the sound of DJs spinning upstairs. One of the most downright odd spectacles, meanwhile, comes courtesy of Mizutama Online, a third-rate Akihabara idol duo complete with five adoring fans.

However, my personal highlight of the day is a band that I end up performing with myself. The “100-Man Beatles” convene in the main seating area at various points in the afternoon to play Fab Four covers on an array of guitars, drums and mini keyboards. Sheet music and lyric sheets are passed around, and each part nominally rehearsed before launching into the final, utterly ramshackle rendition.

I’m not sure they ever meet the required bodycount, but no worry: either way, it’s really rather wonderful.