The Quest for Slam or, Everything You wanted to Know about Japanese Metal but Were Afraid to Ask

This post is for the select friends of mine with whom I share an affinity for metal with. If you're not too into metal (the musical genre) then this post will not make any sense. Or maybe it will make more sense to you than it will to anyone. But I like, REALLY doubt that.

I was sent to Japan not solely for the purpose of learning Japanese, but also to investigate trends in their metal scene, most notably the Wigger Slam scene. Now, by jove what diz the Slam of Wigger even mean? Well...

Slam metal is just death metal that focuses on the mosh parts [slow breakdowns] instead of the thrash parts. It's very straightforward. The key elements are a very ringy snare, guttural cricket vocals [burpcore], and of course tons of slam riffs. Wigger slam metal is simple slam metal played by wiggers.
-Metal Inquisition, March 2008

Why is this interesting? Because Wigger Slam is pretty much the cumulation of all that is metal. It is metal turned up to 11, and self-aware of its own ridiculousness. As well known Wigger Slam band Waking the Cadaver has warrented, Wigger Slam is "Beyond Cops, Beyond God". And it is my good fortune to be in the country that may love Wigger Slam the mostest!

It was depressing and overwhelming to think about how difficult it would be to unearth some homegrown Japanese Wigger Slam. I set out for downtown, tapping each music store I found for remnants of slam.When the J-Wigger working at an indie record shop told me to go to Tower Records, my soul fell to pieces. I walked back to the subway in a funk. Perhaps the slam was just a dream...
But then... A curious sign caught my eye (left). How awesome is this: A CD/LP shop selling crust, emo, ska, sludge, classical, industrial, psychobilly, viking metal, etc., everything brutal! They had tons of opera and Bach. Brutal! It took me a second to find the shop, crammed up some unmarked stairs.

(Notice the "Me First and the Gimme Gimmes Sing in Japanese" ad in the bottom left. Seriously. That band needs to let go.)

Immediately I knew I had found the right place. Lining the shelves was nothing but metal. The biggest sections were definitely death metal and black metal, mostly foreign imports. The Japanese sections were separated into distinct categories. Apparently emo is pretty big in Japan. Hahah and they lumped it in with post-rock. So true.


But alas, emo is not slam, though it does slam the heart in a way. I couldn't just ask the guy working there (a very unlikely looking older man) where he keeps cuts from local wigger slam bands. I don't think that particular terminology has hit the country yet. Wigger slam is, after all, a fairly cutting edge phenom. However the "Grind/Gore/Crust/Death/Black" section was highly suspect. I snapped a few pictures of the spines in the section, bought a double album by Mortician, and a Japanese grindcore comp album of local bands. I also took pictures of some addresses of venues (perhaps houses) I couldn't yet read. Motivation for learning kanji: finding venues that slam. Upon arriving home, I didn't even listen to the CDs I bought, I just started typing in the names of the bands from the pictures. Below are the results.

First up, Baked Bomb. Definitely gutteral, but too fast for slam. Still, pretty good.

Next, Corrupted. God how did I never listen to this band before?? I had heard of them from being on splits and stuff, but damn. Sludge to the max!!!! So good. And they've been around long enough to have a ton of material. Hurrah!

Confuse. High historical worth: this band is from like 1984 and hardcore crust as fuuuck. I can smell them through the speakers.

C.O.P. (Corruption of Peace). I don't know if this really even counts... Some big white guy in a Black flag t-shirt got a bunch of Japanese guys to back him up while he tries to be hardcore? Coming from listening to Confuse, this just doesn't cut it.

Crow Dragon Tea. Woah its like some .... I don't know what this reminds me of... why do I like this, its all happy and hyper.

Deceiving Society. More awesome hardcore crusty crust. So crusty. So hardcore.

Genocide. I've never heard visual-kei death metal, but here it is. Weird.

Grief of War. Oh hell yeah! Thrash! Thrashthrashthrashthrash! Anthrax and Slayer except with unintelligible Engrish lyrics. Sweet.

Gallhammer. All female ex-black metal, now atmospheric doom/sludge. Fuck. Yeah.

Infected Malignity. Wow how that death metal is fast. Oh but what's this? A BRRREAKDOWN!

Proud of Grace. Standard Norma Jean-esque stuff, but for some reason it sounds great. Probably because they're Japanese.

Sigh. Apparently, this is one of the most famous Japanese black metal bands ever. The store had like 7 of their CDs. I mean, if your black metal band's name is Sigh, how can you lose. I think it sounds great.

Alas, my thirst for slam was not quenched, but at least I found some great bands, and some potential slammin' venues. Most promising is this:

Industrial Noise, Black Metal, Hard Core Techno, Dark Drum n' Bass, Cyber Punk, yes please!
And I just opened the little bag my CDs were in.... and you know what was inside????

A flyer for an Unearth/Every Time I Die show.... not slam. And even though "The Acacia Strain" has got some massive wigger slam vibage what with the large gauges and dumb ironic shirts, this slammer isn't paying ¥8000 to see that shit. Type the figure into Google. Seriously astounding-core.

The quest for wigger slam trudges onward.

I made it across the street

I finally got up the courage to leave my room around 1PM. Walking down the stairwell was like being born. Terrifying. I've been trying to keep my mouth from constantly hanging open. I'm already talking to myself. Went to the super market across the street and spent 3 hours wandering around staring. Employees stocking the shelves pass by and thank you for shopping. They thank you for your existence. I asked a woman if they had rice milk in my broken Japanese and she spent 5 minutes scurrying around and talking to other employees and making sure she understood what I meant. After a while there were 4 employees, all middle aged women, debating and conversing, and finally one figured they didn't have it. They apologized profusely. But apologizing profusely is to be expected, and a few seconds later they went about their day like nothing happened. Does it make it any less real emotionally?

I slumped myself down outside of a MacDonalds in the supermarket and had myself a very small can of Fanta grape soda and a disgusting cold chicken thigh/leg. I had deliberately seated myself next to this scruffy long-haired elderly dude who had a strange spread before him: 5 bottles of Boss coffee drink (immensely popular) set down in a very markedly placed manner. One was filed with water, one with milk, the others with coffee, or empty. With great care and precision he mixed himself an iced coffee drink, adding a little milk or a little water when appropriate. He pointed upward with his hand from time to time, and mumbled something, but he never stopped straightening the bottles, or the cloth napkin they were situated upon. He had a large loaf of sugary white bread that he ate in its entirety as I watched, folding the slices into his mouth. As if he knew he was giving a great performance, he moved from the table next to me, to the table directly in front and sat down, continuing his ritual. After about 5 minutes he got up to check the table next to me, and I asked him if he was a musician. Then I asked him if he was a chemist, then a priest. He replied in completely unintelligible Japanese, as he was missing most of his teeth, but I understood from the shaking of his head. I guessed that he was retired, and he asked if I was a student and where I was living, also if I taught English, smiling all the while. He was the first person not to tell me my Japanese was good, after I apologized for it being bad (which it is). This meant something to me. Could it be a sort of disillusionment with the falsity of manners? This guy was for real. He moved back to his seat, and made a counter clockwise motion with his finger at his temple. I denied his admittance and he said "I rike you! I rike you!" I got up, told him that I had only been in Japan one day, that he was my friend, and that we would see each other again. He smiled and simply waved. I'm gonna call him Boss-san on behalf of those 5 bottles of crap he had, and that he clearly was the boss of something, or at least he used to be. I'm looking forward to knowing that guy's story.