Introduction Sakerock saved my life! Is this a gross exaggeration? Read on, intrepid readers! back to features		Sakerock - Live at Nagoya Club Quattro Thursday was one of those days when the forces of the universe conspire to make you miserable. Five minutes before leaving work it started raining cats and dogs. I trudged through the rain to the station, meagerly protected by an umbrella, with my legs soaked up to my knees, only to have the rain subside as soon as I arrived at the station, the sun poking its despicable face out from behind the clouds. I attempted to console myself by going to get a gigantic cheesesteak at my favorite Brazilian restaurant, but they were inexplicably closed for the day. I ended up just going home and watching Ugly Betty or some garbage of that sort on TV, whilst drowning my sorrows in a bowl of guacamole. Friday was one of those days when the forces of the universe conspire to make you miserable... or at least it seemed that way at first. Five minutes before leaving work it started raining cats and dogs, lions and tigers and bears! I prepared to face the rain again, only to have it stop five seconds before I stepped out the front door at work! Things were beginning to look up for ol' Bob here. I stopped off at home, put on my Friday best, ate some more guacamole, and hopped on the train to Nagoya. I made a quick stop at the Parco branch of Banana Records, but they had closed the previous week for good. A bad omen, perhaps? Heck no! There was no way things could get me down, because I only had to take the escalator up a few flights to go see Sakerock at Club Quattro. The club had a very cozy atmosphere, with a small dance floor filled with the hippest of Nagoya's young'uns, a big goofy bald guy (me!), and several tiers of bar-like seating overlooking the floor. The opening act of the night, Minimums (or MiNiMaMuZu), hit the stage and played a fittingly cozy set that had the crowd sitting and clapping along, like a campfire sing-along. The four-piece band consisted of a trumpet, tin-can drum, banjo, and violin, and each member wore a shirt with part of the band's name written on it (MI-NI-MA-MU, but there wasn't anyone for that all important ZU). Did I mention they were called Minimums? They did, maybe 150 times. They were very energetic and peppy, and undoubtedly had their own sort of charm, but I can't imagine I'd ever listen to an album of theirs by my own volition. They said their own name a lot, and dragged their set out a lot, which didn't go unnoticed. Sakerock guitarist Gen took a good-natured jab at Minimums when he shouted that they were supposed to only do a twenty minute set which somehow transformed into thirty five. When Sakerock finally took the stage they wasted no time and busted right into their first song. The stage took on a golden glow, in part due to the lighting guy's good judgement, but mainly due to that melancholy, yet beautifully happy feeling that Sakerock's music brings. As soon as the first song ended, however, came the first of many brilliant comedic exchanges between Hoshino and Hamaken, Sakerock's trombonist and goofy MC. During the night their banter went all over the place, from drummer Daichi's preference for girls with dancer-like bodies, to the JR 18 pass that you can use to travel on the cheap, to the big goofy bald guy in the crowd who was scratching his head in confusion while Hamaken made funny faces to the crowd (it was actually itchy, okay?), to how scared they were of the two people in the crowd wearing horse heads for some reason. Their dialogs were undoubtedly a big part of the show, probably just as entertaining as the songs themselves, and all together part of what made the atmosphere so relaxed and intimate. Everyone was smiling and swaying as they played old favorites such as "Tekikasu," "Radical Holiday," and my personal favorite "Ian Ryokou." They also played some new songs, including their latest single "Shakaiin," and mentioned the forthcoming release of their new album on Kakubarhythm (whose label chief, Kakubari, was also subjected to many jabs as he watched from the side of the stage). They wrapped up their set with a ridiculous call and response scat-drum-off between Hamaken and Daichi, which usually ended with a mushmouthed Hamaken losing his rhythm and getting ridiculed by his bandmates, or in one case it ended with Hamaken awkwardly yelling out "PUSSY!" (in Japanese of course), which left the whole room silent for a second before everyone broke out in laughter. This wacked out scat-drum-off ended up leading into "Seikatsu," which capped off the night wonderfully for me. They ended up performing two encores, the second of which involved all of the band members trading instruments and performing as Cashew and Nuts, a strange funk/hardcore hybrid, as a shirtless Hamaken, sporting a sweater-cummerbund (is there a real word for this?) yapped and bounced around the stage, Daichi played a hilarious slap bass solo, and Gen tried to keep up on the drums (bassist Kei actually held his own on the guitar, so let's not mention him). All in all, the forces of evil that had conspired against me had been vanquished by the power of [Sake]rock, guacamole, and natural weather patterns that involved the rain clouds being blown away from the area. I guess that it's all just part of the Life Cycle, if you will, out here for all of us Tokai folk. - Bob Vielma
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