Michio Kurihara of White Heaven, Boris, Ghost, Damon & Naomi and one of the most revered underground guitarists to emerge in the last 30 years speaks with Justin Simon about his lifelong journey in sound...
Michio Kurihara performing with White Heaven, at Gospel, Tokyo, December 30, 1990.
Photograph by Sachio Ono.
At first glance, the following groups don't seem to have much in common—White Heaven, Damon & Naomi, Boris, YBO2, Yura Yura Teikoku, Tenniscoats, Ghost. But despite their stylistic differences, they all share one thing—they've all had Michio Kurihara grace their work with his sensitive, evocative guitar playing. With a deep catalog stretching back to the '80s, Kurihara is equally at home playing barely perceptible, delicate guitar lines as he is blasting out eardrum-shredding runs of fuzz-drenched noise. And it's hard to overstate the reverence Kurihara's peers have for his playing. You Ishihara of White Heaven described Kurihara as having an "uncanny ability to find the heart of a song. Other guitarists can replicate his sound with the same equipment and settings, but they’ll still never sound anything like him." And Atsuo of Boris once said that a guitar in Kurihara's hands "ceases to be a guitar. He just destroys our entire conception of 'guitar playing." He also happens to be one of the most humble and self-effacing individuals you could ever hope to meet, and it was a real pleasure catching up with him for this deep dive into his past and present work.
—Justin Simon, January 2020
Interview Conducted Spring 2019
K: Michio Kurihara
S: Justin Simon
S: What sort of music was on the radio and TV at home when you were a kid? Did you have any favorite music at that point in your life?
Were your parents music lovers?
K: I mainly watched superhero shows and cartoons as a kid, and I loved their theme songs and soundtracks. I guess this would have been from the late ‘60s to the early ‘70s. I especially loved the theme songs and BGM in the Ultra series, starting with Ultra Q and up through The Return of Ultraman. As for superhero shows, I really liked the theme song for Giant Robo. And in terms of cartoons, I loved the closing credit music in Gegege no Kitaro. The Moomins soundtrack was great too. I don’t remember watching any of the popular music shows in those days though. I didn’t develop an appreciation for rock and pop music until much later. When I was a kid, I guess it was easier for me to appreciate music when it was paired with some sort of visual image, the way it was in superhero shows and cartoons.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that my dad worked for the occupation forces at Yokota Air Base when I was little, but I also remember liking American music - dixieland, the Glenn Miller Orchestra, that sort of thing. Even today, I have a special place in my heart for Glenn Miller.
S: When did you first get into music seriously? How did you learn about new music? Did you have friends at school who shared your musical interests?
K: My brother is two years older than me, and I remember listening to his rock and classical records when I was around nine and feeling a sudden surge of interest in music. I especially liked Gustav Holst’s “The Planets” and Bedrich Smetana’s symphonic poem “The Moldau.” I guess these were “entry-level” classical pieces, ideal for newcomers like myself. But I remember reading the liner notes for “The Moldau” as I listened along to the record, and picturing vivid imagery as I read about gentle streams gradually flowing into powerful rivers and other related scenery. (Of course, I’d never actually been to Czechoslovakia…I just conjured my own, made-up versions of this scenery.) I felt the same way about “The Planets.” I remember being very moved, as only a young, impressionable kid can be, and thinking to myself, “These sounds are so expressive…Music is so amazing!” But I was just an elementary school student at that point, so I couldn’t talk to any of my classmates about this stuff yet.
I made a new friend my third year of junior high (when I was fourteen years old) who I’ll call Fujihara. Fujihara knew a ton about rock and pop music and played guitar and sang really well, in an effortless kind of way. He had a Fender Vibro Champ amp at home (which sounded amazing) and he taught me the basics of the guitar, as well as a few Beatles songs.
Once I got to high school, classmates and older friends turned me on to cool music. My friends and I lent each other our records and we all taped whatever we borrowed to cassette. There was also a popular TV show at the time called Ginza Now! that came on every evening at 5pm. The show profiled the latest rock and pop releases from overseas and aired live performances from Japanese rock bands. I also remember seeing groups like Roxy Music and Yes perform on a show called Young Music Show on NHK (Japan’s state-owned channel). These sorts of shows were valuable sources of music information for me in those days.
S: When did you first get into rock music, and groups from other countries? What were some of your favorite groups in high school?
Did you have any favorite musicians? Are there any that you still consider favorites today?
K: I had become a pretty serious rock fan by the time I was thirteen or fourteen years old. My older brother played his Beatles records constantly in those days, and I think that influenced my growing appreciation for those kinds of sounds. He influenced me the same way with classical music. The first song I really took a liking to was “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” from The White Album. The guitar solo was especially fantastic, and I thought to myself, “I really wish I could play like that…” I didn’t find out until much later that Eric Clapton had actually played that solo. Regardless, that was the song that made me really fall for the guitar. I also loved “Killer Queen” by Queen. To this day, every time I hear that song I’m impressed with the tone they got for the guitar solo. I also loved Ritchie Blackmore’s playing on Deep Purple’s second Made in Japan record. His Stratocaster sounds incredible on that album.
Shortly after that, I got into Rory Gallagher a bit, but in recent years I’ve developed an even greater appreciation for what makes Gallagher’s playing so special. Then in my second year of high school, when I was seventeen, I discovered Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, and the Jacks (from Japan). And over the next couple years I heard Blue Cheer, MC5, The Velvet Underground, Tim Buckley, and Peter Ivers for the first time. Of those groups, I would say that I still count The Doors, Blue Cheer and Tim Buckley as top favorites. I feel like I’ve been influenced by their work.
S: When did you start playing guitar? Did you play any other instruments? Were your parents supportive of your guitar playing?
K: I started playing guitar when I was fourteen. But before that I actually played the euphonium, a brass instrument. I was inspired by my love of classical music to join the brass band as soon as I started junior high, and I think the band leader, an upperclassman, randomly decided I would play the euphonium. But it was really hard… [laughs] I was never able to wrap my head around it and after a year and a half I threw in the towel. The whole experience put a damper on my enthusiasm for music for a while.
But at some point I picked up a classical guitar that had been lying around my house and I was really taken with its beautiful sound. I learned to play some simple chords and melodies on the acoustic, but the more I got into rock music, the more I wanted an electric. Finally, that fall (I was still fourteen at the time), I bought a cheap Japanese electric guitar at an instrument shop in Shinjuku (the store is actually still there, but it’s called Music Land Key now). I really wanted a telecaster-style Elk Cutlass, but the clerk wouldn’t sell me one, telling me, “You’re just a beginner, right? The Bigsby-style tremolo arm on this one constantly throws the tuning out of whack. I don’t think this is the guitar for you.” Instead, he suggested a brown, more average-looking telecaster-style El Maya. But I’d never even heard of El Maya before. I jumped right into playing, but it was a long time before I was able to coax anything decent out of the guitar.
Incidentally, about 20 years after this incident at the guitar shop I finally got myself an Elk Cutlass. It’s a good guitar but it’s true that the tuning does get thrown pretty easily, and it’d probably be hard for a beginner to tame. I could see a new player giving up on the guitar entirely if he or she started with a Cutlass. I remember thinking, after I’d had mine for a while, that the clerk had been right to discourage me from buying one. My parents didn’t encourage me to play the electric guitar, but I also don’t remember them being particularly discouraging, either.
S: When did you join your first band? When did you write your first song?
K: I performed in front of others for the first time when I was fourteen, at a school festival my third year of junior high. I had a duo with Fujihara, who I referred to earlier. He sang and played acoustic guitar, and I played electric. We covered a popular folk song of the era, and I borrowed Fujihara’s Acetone FM-3 fuzz pedal for my part. I made it through the simple guitar solo in the first half of the song but there was a second, longer solo at the end that was way beyond my abilities at the time. I didn’t even know scales at that point. So I just completely winged the second solo…And this was through tons of distortion, too. I’m sure I played out of key in a bunch of spots…This was in front of all the teachers and other students, and I still break out into a cold sweat thinking back on that experience. [laughs] But I remember my art teacher, who was usually pretty hard to please, complimenting me afterwards for some reason. Looking back on it now, I’m amazed at how bold I was to get up on stage with no real clue of how to even play the guitar yet…
I put my first band together when I was fifteen with some classmates in my freshman year of high school. Of course, we only played covers, and we just performed at school festivals and other similar events. But in my sophomore year, some friends in the grade above me invited me to join their band. They were influenced by punk and ‘60s music, and most of their set was original material. And in that band I performed outside of school for the first time, at a local club. I think we did a Jacks cover at that show, too. The principal songwriter and default leader of the group was a kid I’ll call Suzuki, and I remember admiring him back then. I thought he was super talented. I think the first time I wrote an original song was right after Suzuki left the group. I came up with a song to pair with some lyrics that the singer had written. My song was in three/four, and centered on a weird riff. But we lost our momentum pretty quickly, and the band had broken up by the time the upperclassmen in the group graduated. I played with various bands after that, but I can’t think of any original songs that were formally mine until I wrote “Out There” for White Heaven’s third album. Incidentally, my solo album Sunset Notes was my first completely original work. For someone who’s been playing music for a pretty long time, I imagine I’m kind of an outlier in terms of how few original songs I’ve released.
S: Were there good record stores and clubs in your neighborhood when you were growing up? At what age did you start going to underground shows?
K: My town only had one small record store, but the next town over (Fussa) had two record shops (one of those was also an instrument shop). I wasn’t really a regular at any of these spots, but I did purchase a record on my own for the first time when I was sixteen, at that instrument/record shop in Fussa. I bought Rory Gallagher’s Live In Europe. I didn’t even really know what kind of music it was when I picked it up, but the album has become a treasured, desert-island disc for me.
There were two venues for live music in Fussa at the time, and I started going to one of them, Chicken Shack, when I was sixteen. This was where the band I was in that I referred to earlier played our first show. I think the manager of the place was pretty clued into the scene at the time. Since we were just a local high school band, the manager didn’t charge an entrance fee for our first performance, but the second time we played there he set the door price at two hundred yen. I think the last time we played there he charged about four hundred yen per ticket. I can’t remember exactly how much the entrance fee was [each time we played], but I do remember feeling pleased that he was charging people money to come see us play. Those club performances had a different sort of energy than the gigs we played at school. I remember the manager of the club giving us pointers, too. Members of other local bands also offered bits of advice, and I learned a lot from their comments. And I guess it was because the club was so close to the base in Yokota, but there were tons of foreigners at those shows, too. I remember people really hooting and hollering during the guitar solos and other high-energy moments in our set. Most of the foreigners in attendance seemed pretty trashed though. [laughs]
S: Tell me a bit about Tokyo in the 80s. What was the music scene like? Did you see any particularly memorable performances? Did you see any of the Tokyo Rockers groups play?
K: I was kind of a homebody in those days and didn’t go out to many shows. Some of the Tokyo Rockers groups played in Fussa back then, but unfortunately I didn’t catch many of them. So I can’t speak much to the ‘80s scene in Tokyo. But I did see a show that left a really strong impression in 1979 by some Kansai No-Wave groups - SS and Aunt Sally. SS was particularly incredible. All of their songs were like a minute long. They were like a revved-up version of the Ramones, but even more tightly wound. I was also really bowled over by a local band called Pattern Z that I saw around the same time. They had a really strange and unique sound, almost like a new spin on glam rock. Just a little bit after that, during the early ‘80s Tokyo Rockers era, there was a guy named Genet who was in a bunch of bands at the same time - Maria023, Axe Bomber , and Auto Mod - and I caught Axe Bomber a handful of times. I saw lots of punk groups in those days, but Axe Bomber really stood out from the pack in terms of how fast they played, and how cool they were.
S: I heard you got a real jolt from an early Fushitsusha show. Could you tell me how you ended up going to that show? What was your impression of the group? Did it inspire you to listen to more experimental music? Do you still check out experimental music?
K: I think I first caught the early incarnation of Fushitsusha in 1979. If I’m remembering correctly, my friend Suzuki who I mentioned earlier invited me to the show. I think the show must have been at Chicken Shack in Fussa. At this point I’d seen other underground groups, like some of the bands I mentioned earlier, but I had never seen a group that played so-called “free” music. Needless to say I left the show completely in shock, kind of half in a daze. Their sound was totally unlike anything I’d heard before. I can’t remember if it was right after that particular show, or if it was on a different occasion, but I had tea with the guys in Fushitsusha around then, too. I remember being taken aback by the big difference between their onstage and offstage personas. Onstage, they played like they were possessed, but offstage they were a gentle and charming group of people. But yeah, I was just in total awe of their stage performance.
For a while after that first Fushitsusha show, every time I got together with my bandmates we’d kind of debate it, like, “What was that?” And then, in our own way, we tried our hand at improvisation. We were also inspired by the No New York compilation, which had just come out. I remember a period of trial and error, when I was trying to produce a provocative, new kind of sound with my guitar. I sort of feel like, for me personally at least, that period of trial and error only came to an end in recent years.
It wasn’t a huge number of shows, but I periodically went to other shows by experimental groups in the ‘80s. Derek Bailey, Milford Graves and Toshi Tsuchitori, Fred Frith’s Skeleton Crew, the Sun Ra Arkestra and James Blood Ulmer were particularly memorable. Also Nmperign, Damon & Naomi’s sax player Bhob Rainey’s improvisational drone duo with trumpet player Greg Kelley. I was bowled over by their performance. I especially liked performances where vocals were paired with improvised music. Sometime around 1990, I played with a group that combined vocals with improvised music called Niseaporia and then in 1991 I played in a trio called Henkyougakudan that made quiet, drone-based, improvised music. Neither of those groups lasted very long, but they were both really exciting and fun.
I don’t go to many avant-garde performances these days. But I always try to incorporate what I see as the essential ingredients in this kind of music - the tension, the force, the speed - into the sounds I make.
S: What was your first experience in a proper recording studio like?
K: I think the first time I recorded at a proper studio was in ’89, about a year before we recorded Out. Ghost had asked me to play on a song for their first album. I think we only did one take, but I don’t remember much of anything about the experience, maybe because I was so nervous at the time…But I do remember thinking that my guitar sounded nothing like the way I was used to it sounding on the cassette recordings I’d always made of band practice. Only later did I get to work with an engineer who helped me capture a specific sound I was looking for, by choosing a specific mic, changing the mic positioning, that sort of thing. At Peace Music, for example, Nakamura was able to get exactly what I wanted for the Stars recordings, and on Sunset Notes. I’ve also been really happy with the electric guitar tones we got during the sessions at Damon & Naomi’s home studio (with Damon engineering!).
S: When and how did you meet Ishihara? Had you already seen him perform at that point? Could you walk me through how you two ended up collaborating?
K: I think it was late ’85, if I’m remembering correctly…I went to a private performance by a band called White Poppies at a rehearsal studio in Kichijoji. Ishihara was the lead singer for the group. I was friends with their guitar player, Matsutani Ken (who later went on to form Marble Sheep), and I think he must have invited me to check out their show. I don’t think Ishihara and I said much to each other on that particular occasion, aside from a simple greeting.
Shortly after that, they changed their name to White Heaven, and I saw them play a few more times. I only remember having one real conversation with Ishihara during that period. But I don’t remember what we talked about. I thought the group was great, really solid. They seemed like they’d soaked up some New York punk influences. The two guitarists (Matsutani and Sakamoto) had very contrasting styles, but they made for a great combination.
Sometime in fall ’86, Matsutani left the band. And shortly after that their bassist, an acquaintance of mine, asked if I’d like to jam with them at a rehearsal studio sometime. That jam was the first time I played with Ishihara. Thinking back on it now, I suppose it may have been an audition of sorts. I remember playing a really extended jam of one song. I’m pretty sure that jam was the sketch for what later became “Mandrax Town.” I think we also played an early sketch of “H.L.” The whole experience was really invigorating. I thought to myself, “Man, it’d be so great to join this band,” but none of them extended any kind of formal invitation to me. So my position in the group stayed sort of up in the air for a while. And then at a certain point it just kind of became clear to me that I had become a member of the group. I think I’m a fairly shy person, but I remember thinking to myself, wow, these other guys are surprisingly reserved, too! [laughs]
S: What was White Heaven’s songwriting process like? Did you improvise together, or did Ishihara come in with fully-formed songs? Did you improvise much at your concerts?
K: When I first joined the group, most of their material was already written. I think most of their songs were composed by either Sakamoto or Ishihara. And then a year or so after I joined the group, Sakamoto left. After that, songs tended to fall into two different categories - fully-formed compositions by Ishihara, or ideas of his that we refined as a group. But, yeah, the majority of the songs were based on ideas that Ishihara brought to the group. And at our concerts, we improvised certain sections.
I remember a time, maybe for a year or so from ’88 to ’89, when we tried to fuse “free improvisation” with “rock music.” We didn’t play many concerts that year, but we holed up in our rehearsal space and jammed a lot. A selection of our recorded work from that year ended up on the Levitation album that came out in ’97. But I don’t think we ever played a completely improvised set live. I think we may have felt this approach had its limitations…I can’t remember the exact timeline [of White Heaven’s stylistic trajectory], but I think White Heaven ultimately shifted its focus to more traditional songwriting as time passed.
S: What sorts of venues did White Heaven play? How did audiences respond? Ishihara said audiences tended to be completely silent, as if they were at a wake. Was this your observation as well? What sorts of bands did you share bills with? Was there a particular band you played with frequently? Did you have any favorites of the bands you shared bills with?
K: We played a lot at Yaneura in Shimokitazawa, Gospel in Sengawa (which later became Show Boat in Koenji), and Silver Elephant in Kichijoji. I guess I also remember audiences being fairly reserved. But I just interpreted that as a sign that they were listening intently. We played with High Rise, Kakashi, Yura Yura Teikoku, Mikami Kan, folks like that…Maybe Yura Yura Teikoku was the band we had the deepest connection with? But all of the groups I listed above were incredible, and always impressed me.
S: Did you have a relationship with older musicians? Like the folks in Les Rallizes Dénudés? Were you sharing bills with avant-garde musicians or noise artists?
K: Mikami Kan was from an older generation. But I guess we didn’t have much of a relationship with other bands from his era. I didn’t have any direct connection to the people in Les Rallizes Dénudés. But Ishihara was good friends with Haino Keiji. I don’t remember sharing many bills with experimental or noise artists.
S: Could you tell me a bit about Out? What sorts of groups were you listening to when you made Out? Do you recall what equipment you used? Amps, guitars, pedals…Was Nakamura’s pedal collection still in its early stages then? Ishihara told me how shocked he was to hear what the group sounded like when professionally recorded (up to that point he’d only heard the band’s blown-out cassette recordings).
K: I didn’t listen to much music by other musicians around the time of the Out sessions, because I wanted to focus entirely on our own recordings. But I had my own personal reference points when it came to what sorts of sounds I thought were ideal - early Tim Buckley and early Doors, the first Blue Cheer record, and the first Quicksilver Messenger Service album, for example.
I think Out was a combination of songs they’d written before I joined the group, and songs that we wrote after I joined. I think they were all pretty much finished by the time we entered the studio, though. We had three days to complete the recording, and one day to mix. It was the band’s first proper full album, and I at least definitely felt the pressure. I also remember how far the commute was to the studio. The studio was in Higashijujo, in Kitaku, and I lived way on the west side of Tokyo.
For the recordings, I used a Greco SG Custom copy (I didn’t own a Gibson SG yet), a 1968 Fender Twin Reverb (with a Celestion Vintage 30 speaker), a Shin-ei FY-6 fuzz pedal, a Pearl Cry Fuzz pedal, a Maxon ZEEQ (power EQ) pedal, and a DeArmond Weeper Wah pedal. I also used a Roger Mayer Fuzz Face (the blue rocket type), but just on the last song, “Out.” I think I also used a Roland RE-201 Space Echo on the outro to “Fallin’ Stars End.” The Maxon ZEEQ is both a power booster and a 3-band EQ, but you can adjust the High/Mid/Low sections of the EQ, so I used it kind of like a full-range booster. At the time, it was an important pedal to me. Except for the Maxon ZEEQ, this is all gear I continue to use to this day.
As an aside, when we played live I used a Hiwatt Custom 100 head with a four 12” cabinet in combination with the Fender amp I mentioned earlier. I liked dialing in the mids and highs on the Fender, the mids and lows on the Hiwatt, and mixing the two sets of sounds. But we didn’t need that kind of volume for the studio recording, so I just used the Fender. Live, I also used a late-period Vox Tone Bender, but I remember not being able to get a good sound out of it during the Out sessions, so I don’t think I ended up using it on the album.
I think Nakamura’s collection was still pretty small at that point. If I remember correctly, his collection really took off sometime in the mid-90s…
I was pretty surprised by how muddy the final mixes sounded. I thought the album would have the same kind of warmth and depth that lots of the records from the late ’60s did… [laughs]
S: What was the vibe in Modern Music like in the White Heaven days? When did Ikeezumi first see White Heaven play? Did he ever give you feedback or offer advice? Do you think White Heaven has anything in common with other groups on PSF?
K: I didn’t go to Modern Music much in those days, but I do remember being overwhelmed by the massive amount of music they had. The shop was filled with overflowing piles of CDs and vinyl. I remember Ikeezumi being in attendance at the first show I played with White Heaven. I think it was early ’87, and we played with High Rise. (And I assume he saw the group play before I joined, too). I don’t remember ever discussing our music with him, or receiving any kind of advice, but I did get wind of various comments of his second-hand, via Ishihara…
In ’85 or so, before I joined White Heaven, I was a huge pro-wrestling fan, and there was a period when Ikeezumi and I often checked out pro-wrestling matches together. I’m pretty sure it was Matsutani, White Heaven’s original guitarist who I mentioned earlier, who organized these pro-wrestling outings. Ikeezumi always got us the best seats. After a match at Korakuen Hall or Ryogoku Kokugikan, a large group of friends from the music or label world would always hang out at a yakitori spot and discuss the match. I usually just listened. I don’t think I said much of anything at these gatherings…[laughs] But I remember them fondly. In hindsight, I really wish I’d spoken to Ikeezumi more, about music or just about whatever.
In terms of what I have in common with the other artists on PSF…I can’t really say. [Aside from White Heaven,] I guess the PSF artist I had the closest relationship with would have been Ghost, since I was in the group for a spell. I wasn’t the most social guy, so I’m afraid I’m not very well acquainted with the other PSF artists.
S: Were you surprised by the positive reaction Out got overseas? What do you attribute this to?
K: I was shocked that this sort of music appealed to lots of people outside Japan. In the years since Out was released, each time I’ve toured overseas, with Damon and Naomi for example, I’ve had many audience members approach me after a show and tell me “I loved Out when it was released. Thanks so much for coming.” I first had these sorts of exchanges in America, but over the years I’ve also had them in England and throughout Europe. It may be a relatively small number of fans in the grand scheme of things, but I remember being constantly surprised that there were folks listening to White Heaven all over the world. These encounters always made me happy, and grateful that I pursued music, but at the same time I was always a bit puzzled by how these fans ended up listening to White Heaven of all groups.
S: Ishihara said that the remastered version of Out sounds very different from the original. How do you feel about the way the remastered version sounds?
Looking back on White Heaven’s full discography, how do you think Out fits in?
K: I think the remastered version sounds fantastic. Compared to the original, the remastered version objectively has greater clarity and depth. I think we have Nakamura’s excellent mastering work to thank for this. This version is definitely a lot closer to our original vision for this album.
I think all of White Heaven’s other albums were self-produced. The second album, for example, is not only impressive on a musical level, but also just in terms of the sonics, there’s a greater three-dimensionality. I didn’t play on that one, but it’s one of my favorites. I came back into the fold for the third album, and I think the album shows the band maturing musically. I think Out is a snapshot of a band that’s still searching for a particular sound. In terms of my own performance on Out, I feel like it’s pretty rough around the edges. Of all the songs on Out, the title track was the only one we did in a single take, without any overdubs. If I remember correctly, we were pleased with our first take, so we didn’t record another. I think on this song especially we were able to get close to the sort of sound we were reaching for.
S: You once said that with his album Passivite, you thought Ishihara was able to capture a sound he’d been after for years. How would you describe that sound? And I heard that you took a different approach with your playing in the Stars compared to White Heaven. Could you describe the difference?
K: [The difference is hard to articulate, but] if I force myself to try, I think Ishihara’s singing abilities were captured better than ever before on Passivite.
I’m pretty sure two of the songs just featured Ishihara, but the rest of the songs on the album had all four members of the group playing on them. When we were working on this recording, I wasn’t thinking so much about our character as a band. My main concern was contributing in a way that would fit best with Ishihara’s vocals. I primarily used my Greco semi-acoustic on that album. It’s a hollow-body, and a bit smaller than your average guitar. I also used a 40 watt Fender Vibroverb (a reissue of the original 1963 model) that I had recently bought. It had less power than the Twin Reverb I usually used, and was capable of generating some very soft sounds. I barely used any effects pedals. I just maxed out the volume on the amp when I wanted a little distortion. I had to adopt a different mindset for this record, to focus on what was best for the recording as opposed to what I normally did live with White Heaven. I think using a different set of equipment was an easy way to get myself into a different frame of mind.
Kamekawa’s bass playing is also really incredible [on that album]. I felt like it had a kind of unifying power that glued together all the other sounds on the recording. Shimura’s drumming was amazing, too. He was the bass player in White Heaven, but his first instrument was the drums. I think the combination of his unique, jazzy approach (definitely not a rock approach) with Kamekawa’s bass playing made for a kind of rhythm section that had never been heard before.
In the Stars, we tried to eliminate all unnecessary sounds from our performances. Most of our songs revolved around a simple riff played in unison on the guitar and bass, with a second, muted guitar repeating the phrase. We also usually added an improvised section to each song. You could say that this was a kind of realization, albeit via a different method, of what White Heaven had tried to achieve in its mid-career hunt for a “rock and improv fusion.” At this point, it’d be hard for me to say whether or not the method we devised was the best way to achieve this goal, but at the time, all four of us in the group (including drummer Arakawa) definitely got real satisfaction out of this approach.
In the White Heaven days, I was very fond of the Fender Reverb amplifier sound, and I used reverb constantly. But by the time I started playing with the Stars, I had finally learned to appreciate a dry guitar sound. One reason for this change of heart was that around this time I got to know a trustworthy boutique amp builder who heavily modified my main amp, the Fender Twin Reverb. He replaced almost all the deteriorating circuitry with high-quality parts, and he installed a Jensen P12N Alnico magnet speaker. My old amp instantly sounded dramatically better, almost as if a sheet that had been draped over the amp for a long time was suddenly pulled away. It also felt like the amp responded to my playing much faster than before.
It was just a coincidence that these modifications overlapped with the start of the Stars, but personally I feel that whatever positive contribution I was able to make to that band’s sound was at least on some level thanks to these upgrades. Incidentally, I also had the amp modded with a switch that cut the output levels in half (from 80w to 40w). In the Stars, I used this amp in its 40w setting as my main amp, but I also paired it with my 40w Fender Vibroverb reissue. It was a more compact set up than the one I used in my White Heaven days, but this set up was ideal for the overall balance in the Stars.
S: What was different about the approach you took with Boris and Ghost?
K: Well, with Boris, they all tune their guitars super low, so I adjust my tuning to match theirs. And they use a number of huge amps. When they’re all going at the same time, the volume is absolutely massive. So in order to achieve the right balance in the group, I use two 80 watt Fender Twin Reverbs when I play with them.
When I used to play with Ghost, I adjusted the level of my guitar down as necessary, since they used a variety of acoustic instruments, like recorder and piano. I only used one Twin Reverb with them.
So I always tried to nail the most appropriate sound and balance for each group I played with, in consideration of their overall sound, as well as the individual sound of the vocals and each respective instrument. I think once you’ve found the right basic tone and volume settings, it’s easier to concentrate, and empathize with what each song needs.
With Damon & Naomi, 2019 Photograph by Susanne Sasic.
S: What’s your dynamic like with Damon and Naomi? Do you ever find yourself struggling with a language barrier? Why do you think you’ve been able to collaborate successfully for so many years?
K: Working with them always reminds me of the basics - the joy of playing music and the beauty of a song. I think, just as a duo, Damon and Naomi already have a fully-formed voice and instrumentation arrangement in place. I think playing with them has expanded the range of my expressive abilities.
I still can’t speak English very well, but I’ve never felt conscious of a language barrier with them. Of course, they’re very intuitive. I suppose it’s a bit of a cliche, but I guess playing with them has really taught me that you can reach an understanding via music even when you can’t communicate in words.
In terms of why our collaboration has lasted so long…I can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought….but maybe my deep faith in those two has contributed to our longevity to some degree… Meeting them was such good fortune for me.
S: Did you play on Ishihara’s upcoming solo album ( Formula on the Zelone label ) ? What was that recording like?
K: Yes, I felt really lucky to be able to take part.
When he first played me the demo tape for the album, the material already seemed finished to me, like he could just release the recording as is. I was also shocked when he told me that his son played all the guitar on the demo. Because I didn’t even know his son played the guitar.
I was really impressed with his son’s tone and sensibilities. Even his incredible sense of timing made me think that Ishihara must have passed his musical DNA onto his child. I suggested to Ishihara that he ask his son to play on the final recording as well but sadly we weren’t able to pull that off this time. But who knows, maybe sometime soon they’ll have a father/son band like Peter Perrett from The Only Ones.
I hadn’t made music with Ishihara in over ten years, so working on this album was a really joyous, fun time. All the songs have his distinctive melodic sense, classic Ishihara. I gave it my all but…I hope I was able to give him what he wanted in terms of guitar accompaniment. [clenches teeth]
S: I asked Ishihara to share his thoughts about your musical sensibilities and he said, “For me, it’s the way he interprets the songs. He has an uncanny ability to find the heart of the song. I think other guitarists can replicate his sound with the same equipment and the same settings, but they’ll still never sound anything like him.” What would you say is unique about Ishihara?
K: His overall take on sound itself is truly impressive. I think he’s always two or three steps ahead of the rest of us. And he has lightning fast instincts for speed as it relates to sound (not in terms of tempo, but rather his sense of how to harness the explosive power of a quick reaction). He brings these same instincts to his singing and his guitar playing. I’ve been in a ton of bands, but I’ve never encountered anyone with Ishihara’s unique sensibilities. His music knowledge is also unparalleled. I’m convinced he’s heard practically every piece of good music that’s ever been recorded. He’s recorded a ton of great records to cassette for me over the years, everything from free jazz to psych that barely anyone knows about. (And I still have all these tapes). Anyway, for me he’s a sort of music professor, just in terms of his vast music knowledge and his sincere approach to music-making.