Beyond the Mainstream: What Japan's DIY Music Scene and a Wild Food Festival Have in Common

One of my favorite Hard Psychedelia bands, Tokyo’s Mainliner, played one of my favorite Extremely Loud Venues, Koenji’s UFO Club, earlier this year. That place is electric. Hot, too. But more than anything it is dangerously loud, exactly the level of overdrive that a band like Mainliner needs. There were maybe 30 people there. The "stage" is barely worth calling it that, and after the set, the band hung out like they were just part of the crowd. That, to me, is the raw, beating heart of the DIY music scene. It’s a vital organ of Japanese counter culture, an ecosystem built not on hype, but on a shared, visceral need for authentic community.

For years, I've lived and breathed that world. But recently, I've started seeing that same defiant, passionate ethos appearing in the most unexpected places. What if you could find that same energy, not in a smoky club, but on a windswept beach at sunset?

The Spirit of the Anti-Scene

The best parts of the DIY music scene have always been about creating an alternative to the polished, predictable mainstream. It’s an "anti-scene" built on doing things for the right reasons, on your own terms. It’s a reaction against the sterile, pre-packaged experiences sold to us. I’ve noticed a similar current running through other parts of Japanese culture, particularly outside of Tokyo. People are tired of the generic and are now creating their own alternatives in food, craft, and gatherings.

This is what led me to an event happening on the Chigasaki coast. The town itself has a fiercely independent streak, a surf-and-skate culture that has always done its own thing. It's this spirit that makes it the perfect host for something that channels the DIY ethos.

The Sound of Authenticity (Food Edition)

In the underground, we value the raw over the refined. The blistering feedback of a noise artist’s set, the slight imperfections on a screen-printed shirt, that’s where the truth is. That’s the feeling I get when I think about the food at this event. This isn't a catered meal from a corporate kitchen. This is wild boar and venison, sourced from the nearby mountains, cooked over a real, crackling wood fire.

It's the culinary equivalent of hearing a band's raw, unmastered demo tape. It’s honest, untamed, and hasn’t been processed through a corporate filter. A friend of mine who plays in a thrash band in Osaka spends his weekends foraging in the mountains, and he always says the same thing: "You can taste the difference when something has a real story." This is food with a story.

Fermentation is Counter-Culture

Another core tenet of Japanese counter culture is a quiet rejection of mass consumerism. It’s about reviving older, more human ways of doing things. That’s why the focus on fermentation at this event struck such a chord with me. Making your own kombucha, pickling vegetables, it’s a small act of defiance against the industrial food system. It’s the same impulse that leads someone to create a zine or start a distro out of their bedroom. It’s about taking control of the process, using time and natural forces to create something unique and alive.

The Merch Table (Beer Edition)

One of my favorite parts of any show is heading to the merch table after a set. You get to talk to the artist, hand them cash for their 7-inch, and feel that direct connection. You're not just a consumer; you're a supporter. The approach to drinks at this event feels exactly the same. They've invited a curated lineup of small-batch craft brewers to pour their own pints and share their stories.

Meeting the person who brewed your beer is like meeting the bassist who wrote your favorite riff. It closes the gap. It makes the entire experience more meaningful and reinforces the community you’re all a part of.

Building a Scene, Not Just an Event

Ultimately, a great show isn't just about the music; it's about the community that forms around it. It's the conversations on the sidewalk outside, the new friends you make, the feeling of being in a space with people who just get it.

This is the entire philosophy behind Firelight & Fermentation. The camping under the stars, the late-night acoustic jams, the shared meals. It’s all carefully designed infrastructure for building a temporary scene.

So, on August 30th and 31st, I’m helping bring this gathering to life. I’ll have anecdotes from Kaala, of course, but also MKUltraman and Akiyaz. It’s for anyone who understands that the spirit of the DIY music scene is about more than just sound. It’s a way of moving through the world. If you've ever found a home in the noise, the art, and the community of the underground, you'll find a home here, too.