C.W.I.F. Event @ Mt. Rainer Hall: 2011/09/02
Show reviews aren't easy to write. "True facts", as my tour sister Steff would say. Five years ago, I wrote my first show review after Miyavi's birthday show in Ikebukuro. I wrote it drained and exhausted and still in my show clothes, holed up in an internet cafe in Kudanshita at two in the morning. I wrote it because I'm a writer, plain and simple. Writing is my first reaction to pretty much everything. Writing is how I process the world around me. These show reviews are, quite honestly, some of the worst-quality writing I have ever turned out because most of the time I'm doing them only hours after the show ends; I'm still full to the brim with the experience itself, and it hasn't settled yet into something that I can mold into an articulate, linear summary.
That's part of why I've waited a while to write this review. The other part is that I've been working my ass off, and when I'm not at work, I'm spending as much time as I can with my friend Krystal; she's staying with me for a few weeks here in Tokyo. When it comes right down to it, though, I haven't been able to write this review yet because normal show reviews are difficult enough to write. How do I sum up 48 of the best hours of my life? How do I find words fitting and proper enough to do them justice?
I'm not going to be able to do it, plain and simple. I've already resigned myself to the fact that anything I can write about our FC event in Shibuya is going to be a pale, weak testament to the real experience of it - but for all of you who weren't here to experience it with us, I'm going to do my best.
First of all, I'm happy to report that the "2 B CoMYV" fan project turned out beautifully; it's the first truly international fan project that we've ever pulled off, and though it took a lot of work to organize it, I was overwhelmingly pleased with the outcome. All in all we had over 60 submissions, from Japanese and foreign fans alike. When I put them all together in the book, I made sure to mix them up so that there was no separation between the foreign and domestic submissions. I wish I could have taken pictures of the final project, but we did the Japanese half of it on the day of the show itself in a big, disorganized cluster fuck of markers and stickers and origami paper in the lobby of the Uniqlo building that houses Mount Rainer Hall. Krystal and I were a little behind schedule getting to the venue that afternoon, and I was eager to hunt my friends down as soon as I got there so that we could all get to work.
Turns out, I didn't have to do any hunting; most of my crew was gathered up in the lobby, and as soon as I walked in it was a happy reunion full of hugs, kisses, laughter and confused chatter.
See? I'm already getting stuck here. What I just wrote was a description, and as an author, I hate descriptions. Hugs and kisses and laughter and confused chatter - the words are true, and accurate, but they don't capture the feeling that is one of my favorite parts of going to Miyavi's shows. They don't capture the feeling of being an immigrant and a foreigner day in and day out, every day of your life, and the magic of being able to step outside of that and into your family for a few hours. Those words don't capture the souls behind those smiles and the warmth of those hugs, and the love that bubbles up inside your chest like a spring. When I'm with the CoMiyavi, I'm not foreign. I'm not Japanese. I'm just Maura, and that's enough for my friends. This is the moment when all the titles we carry around with us in our everyday lives - foreigner, student, sister, daughter, boyfriend - slip away, and we are simply ourselves. Most of us don't even know each other's family names. We don't need to. Mundane things don't matter. During the shows, we share things for which there aren't words in any language. We are Us, and that's more than enough.
That's a big part of what being CoMiyavi means to me, and that's why I wanted to do this fan project. It wasn't easy to pull it all together, but the final product was a beautiful thing, and I was proud to be able to put the result of our collective efforts into the small box of presents that people had brought to the show for Miyavi.
And then, it was time for the shows - two of them, just like the old days. We had the same venue as last year; Mt. Rainer Hall has its good sides and its bad sides, but all in all it isn't a bad place for a show. It's right next to Shibuya 109 and hence easily accessible (not to mention only half an hour from my house), and it's a nice, clean, friendly venue full of helpful staff (one of my best friends works there) and comfortable seating. The downside to the seats is that they're all assigned, and subsequently my friends and I are always split up. The upside is that it's a great chance to make friends with whoever happens to be seated on either side of you. My ticket for the first show was up in the balcony, and my ticket for the second show was pretty far back on the main floor, but luckily there's a great view from every corner of the house, and I wasn't too worried about it.
The FC shows have a completely different vibe to them than a normal Miyavi concert; he set the precedent for them back in 2006 in Ikebukuro with a quiet, artistic performance that took us all by surprise, and prompted me to write my very first show review. Look back far enough in this journal, and you can find it as the very first entry. Five years later, the fan club lives have evolved into a relaxing and intimate affair that all of us look forward to; Miyavi spends a good portion of them answering questions from the fans and generally holding court from the stage. Most of his answers turn into either lengthy stories that are alternately poignant and hysterical, or full-blown conversations with the fans. There's never been a disrespectful incident to speak of; there's no screaming, interrupting, or fangirling - just a bunch of people who love and respect each other enjoying a couple hours of good music and good conversation.
Once again, I'm not doing it justice. I can describe it for the next six pages, and I wouldn't be able to do it justice. The fact of the matter is that during the FC lives, there's no rockstar, and there's no fans. There's nobody squealing about how sexy Miyavi is, or melting down when he makes eye contact with him. It's simple, honest, human-to-human communication; it's not him talking to us or us talking to him, it's all of us talking WITH each other. We laugh, joke, tease, question, answer, share, and learn. We tell each other stories - he tells them to us, and we tell them to him. We talk about goals, dreams and future plans, and reminisce together about the old days.
And oh, how I miss the old days sometimes.
Have you ever grown up with someone - a brother or sister or cousin, a childhood friend? When you look at them now, what do you see - the person they are now, or the person they were when you first met? If you're anything like me, you just see the person, plain and simple. You don't see the changes unless you look for them - and when you really do look, it's startling and bittersweet and beautiful all at once. You see the person they were and the person they are and everything in between.
I am not Miyavi's friend, but I don't consider myself to be 'just' a fan, either. What I am is a person who sees value in another person, and chooses to support him. Six years ago, I chose a path for my own life that would allow me to be present in his, as well - and just like any other relationship, the past six years have had their ups and their downs. There have been moments of joy so overwhelming I thought my heart would burst, and moments so painful I thought that I'd buckle under their weight. There have been tests, trials, and triumphs. I am, and always will be, a fan, and I will always be proud to be so, because I don't think that being a fan of someone's art and cultivating a human-to-human relationship with someone are necessarily mutually exclusive. I am not part of Miyavi's personal life, but I am part of his journey as a musician. I have been to over a hundred of his concerts. I have watched him grow, change, succeed, fail, question himself and make rash decisions and ultimately persevere. He's familiar to me, and I'm not unfamiliar to him, and when I look at him now, what I see is Miyavi, plain and simple. I don't see the changes unless I look for them.
And in those moments when I do, it's an indescribable feeling full of dichotomies. The fact that the eccentric, haphazard, fun-loving 23 year old ugly duckling whose music I fell in love with is gone and never coming back breaks my heart - and the driven, focused, talented 30 year old swan he has grown up to be fills it up to the brim with love and pride. His FC shows are always full of old songs, and every year until this one they've fallen on his birthday, and they provide a poignant point of reference that never fails to reflect the past six years back to me more clearly than any other moment does. I want to include the set lists from this year here; MIYAVI_FAN was kind enough to tweet them during the show (thanks, my brother, and much love to you!) and Katyamena copied them down in English (thanks, my sister, and much love to you too!); it's her copies that I'm sharing here:
First setlist: Girls be ambitious, Jibun kakumei, Senor senora senorita, Ame ni utaeba, Super hero, Coo Quack Cluck, Boku wa shitteru......Shakespeare ni sasagu, Aho matsuri, Ashita genki ni naare, Sungee maemukina uta 2
Second setlist: Joushou gaidou, Pop is dead, Please please please, Dear my friend, Papa mama, Kimi ni negai o, Itoshii hito....Shoukyo to sakujo, Shakespeare ni sasagu, What's my name?, Fuminshou no nemuri hime, Aho matsuri, Girls be ambitious, As U r, encore
Dear My Friend made me smile. Aho Matsuri made me dance. Kimi ni Negai Wo made me cry, Papa Mama Nozomaru nu Baby made me ache, and KuKuRu suspended me in time between 2005 and now, illuminated the years between them, and left me standing there with one hand over my mouth, smiling behind it, glowing with the timeless tenderness of a proud mother.
And in between all the songs came the stories, the jokes, the conversations that rambled from person to person. He told us hysterical anecdotes about Lovelie trying to use his PC, about his dubiously successful attempts at barbecuing, and a misguided journey to learn from the masters of ping pong. We talked about the possibility of having another CoMiyavi soccer game in the future, and chatted about his performances at some of the recent festivals he's played. We shared our relief that the typhoon due to hit that day had missed us. He teased us and we teased back, he asked for feedback on some things and we were honest with him. It was warm. It was open. It was real.
And then it was time to say goodbye to another FC show - but it wasn't time to say goodbye to each other, not yet. We did demachi as always, and spent an hour catching up, taking pictures, and chatting it up with Maki-chan until Miyavi was ready to leave the venue. After we sent him off with waves and blown kisses, it was time to head over to the izakaya where more than thirty of us were meeting up for a good old fashioned afterparty that lasted well past the last train and into the early hours of the morning. Shibuya is within cabbing distance of my house, but we all got out of the izakaya so late that it would have been senseless to come all the way back to my house. Instead, Krystal, LaLa, Uchiko, Mikan and I ended up in the back streets of Shibuya, searching out a love hotel to catch a couple of hours of sleep before reconvening with the rest of the family for a day out the following day.
Capturing the show on paper is nearly impossible - but capturing what came after is even harder still. How am I supposed to sum up an all-night party where strangers became sisters, or the day that followed, where sisters (and brothers - love you, Dankichi!) came together as soulmates? September 3rd was our best-organized CoMiyavi Play Day to date; starting at 1pm, we all met up in Shibuya for a trip to Sweets Paradise and Pasela. Instead of doing karaoke this time, we watched a DVD that my friend Tsugumi had brought with her of the final show of 2005's Oresama Daare Da tour.
I was there for that show - at one point, Miyavi actually my friend and I out in the audience. We weren't so familiar back then. Foreigners were still something new.
Talk about nostalgia.
I guess what I'm saying is that I don't know what to say, plain and simple. I can't make my friends - my family - come alive for you on paper. I can't tell you how it felt to dance around with Tsugumi and Hana and Toki like we were back at the show in 2005. I can't tell you everything that made us laugh, and why some moments made us cry, even just watching them again on video. I can't describe the comfort of remembering together, or the way that doing so keeps the past alive, and I can't describe the here-and-now that is more brilliant and vibrant and perfect than ever. Most of my friends weren't here, back then. These people who I cannot imagine my life without weren't in it back when that video was filmed, and the me standing in that audience could never have predicted the me sitting in that karaoke parlor six years later.
I am so lucky. I am so grateful.
I was, am, and always will be CoMiyavi.
And now, I am tired. I have to work tomorrow. I have done my best to bring you the experience, and my best isn't close enough to good enough. Being CoMiyavi is something that you have to experience for yourself, and the experience is exactly what you make of it. Each one of us will find a different meaning in it - some meanings will be simple and transient, others will be bone-deep and life-changing. This was my show, and what I got out of it. What do you get out of yours? From here on out, I'd like to share other people's show reviews and submissions here in this journal - so if you're attending any of his concerts on his upcoming tour of the Americas, the door is open to you. Share your friendships, your experiences, and your journey. After all, We Are One.
Live from Tokyo, it's Sunday morning.
Ashita tenki ni naare.