2002-02-28 - 5:07 p.m.
Saturday was my birthday and I celebrated by going to the Lil’ Kim concert in Tokyo. I was excited to see Lil’ Kim on my birthday, but perhaps even more excited to see what the scene would be like and exactly who in Tokyo would pay $50 to see hip hop’s “Queen Bitch.” Lining up outside the Liquid Room before the show I was surprised that I was one of the only gaijin (foreigners). I was also one of the only people not decked out in head-to-toe hip hop gear. I was surrounded by hundreds of young Japanese doing their best to look like young African Americans. This mission was approached via some interesting means, and was achieved with varying success. The girls wore huge hoop and door-knocker earrings, their hair slicked down shiny and flat or permed and teased achieve a passable kinky effect. There were many variations on the combination of haltertops and tight animal print pants. Make-up tended toward the extreme -- ultra shiny lips, high arched brows, and tri-toned pearlescent eyeshadows. I saw two girls wearing satin jackets embroidered with the words, “Black For Life.” The boys were perhaps more successful in their attempts -- shaved heads with Nike headbands, baggy pants and jerseys and expensive sneakers abounded. The boy behind me in line had a certain pink glow to his complexion which I recognized as a few too many minutes on the tanning bed -- his darkened skin another accessory to his look. He also had a very nice head of cornrows, which are not easy to achieve with the average Japanese head of hair. He had obviously had his hair treated -- probably permed to coarsen it -- and then professionally braided. This boy of 19 or so put a lot of effort into looking black. I imagined him going home later that night, slipping off his shoes at the door of his family’s apartment, padding around noiselessly on the tatami mats so as not to wake his mother -- and marveled at how far hip hop culture has migrated. When someone from Lil’ Kim’s American entourage would walk by, he was followed by hushed exclamations of “kakko ii!” (“cool! stylish!”) from the fans. In this subculture, “real” black men are at the top. A recent New York Times Magazine article declared Tokyo the fashion capital of the world partly because here, fashion exists purely for fashions’ sake, rather than as a manifestation of ideology or cultural affiliation. That’s part of what is so interesting and funny about hip hop culture in Japan. In America, hip hop culture, music and fashion is grounded in and driven by the African American experience. In America, hip hop is an organic art form. In Japan, it couldn’t be less organic. Hip hop here is a cultural import which has lost its original meaning somewhere along the way.
Lil’ Kim’s opening act was a fledgling Japanese singer named, appropriately enough, “Lil’ Ai.” She was followed by two African American guys who had been living in Japan for a while and drove the crowd while by singing covers of popular R’n’B songs and a couple of their own. When it was announced that Lil’ Kim was going to be late, murmurs ran through the crowd attributing this act of rudeness to that fact that she is “gaijin” or “Americajin.” After a sweltering 45 minute wait, Lil’ Kim emerged, and after I a few songs I got over my fear of being crushed to death (“American Dies on Her Twenty-third Birthday in Tokyo Crowd Crush”) and enjoyed the show. Lil’ Kim went on and on in English between songs -- and not Japanese public school textbook English either. I don’t know if she knew this, but nobody in the audience understood a word. They were just good at cheering at the appropriate intervals, kind of like how my students don’t understand a word I say but can say “I’m fine thank you, and you?” perfectly every time. When she tried to lead the crowd in a round of alternating fist waving, I wanted to go up on stage and give her a hand. No, Kim, you’ve got to explain it more slowly. Repeat it a few times, demonstrate it yourself, and then ask them if they understand. THEN you can see if they can do it on their own. If there’s one thing I’ve learned here it’s how much English your average Japanese person can understand. And it ain’t much. But it’s more than the amount of Japanese Lil’ Kim knew, all of which amounted to two mispronounced words -- “thank you” and “number one!” Lil’ Ai came on at one point to explain that she had taken Lil’ Kim shopping earlier that day. Lil’ Kim strutted proudly to show off her new outfit. I wonder if she was able to get her hands on a “Japanese For Life” jacket?
a pictoral P.S.:
a couple of things on conveyor belts: sneakers at a fancy tokyo boutique -- and sushi at a hole-in-the wall tokyo eatery
