All massive and crew! Welcome along to another instalment in the extremely privileged, yet somehow still slightly moany, world of Domu-san. Last week was incredibly hectic, what with my birthday and preparing to come to Japan, so I had to miss a week. That meant I couldn’t tell you all about the new Treble-O release just up on our I-think store, and soon in all good digital stores. Brummie Jazzers The Sub Ensemble are amazing in my opinion, and this E.P, entitled Faster Than the Sun, reflects their talent perfectly. And my remix is great. So spread the word, the sound of the summer in Treble O land is out. And it’s jazzy. Buy it, you sweaty gimps!

         I’m pretty sure this is the first blog I have actually written on the road, although I have relayed many a tour story in the past. Right now, this very second as I type these very virtual words, I am on the Shin-kansen (Bullet Train) bound for Osaka. Having landed in Tokyo on Thursday evening, I magically dodged the usual jet lag by flying in through the night. Usually, I stumble into Japan about ten in the morning, having left the morning before, enduring 14 hours of gruelling travel, presenting a broken and even tinier-eyed vision of myself.  So my gratitude to the perpetually baffling powers of physics were great, and lo, a tremendous optimism for the rest of the tour was born.

         I am starting to think this will go down as one of the best Julys of my life. My 30^th birthday party was great, just enough people, just enough booze and some ludicrous dancing witnessed. And it all ended, as did my wedding, with a pile-on. Those unfamiliar with the phenomena or if you were fortunate to never have 11 children jump on top of you on the hard concrete of the playground, you can easily imagine just what it involves. The old trick used to be to point to a telephone pylon, and ask the unsuspecting recipient to tell you what it was you were pointing at. If they foolishly replied “Pylon”, then they were pushed to the ground and “Pile-on!” was cried at full voice to all those willing to dive onto a friend and possibly fracture his or her collarbone. Larger children, such as the aptly named Tank (who was dubbed so from a character in an 80’s Walker’s Crisps advert), would wait as long as they could to administer the final deathblow atop a number of your so-called mates. Happy days. Next week, I will explain Wedgies, which were also known as Melvins and Grundies. Recently I found out that both these terms were, and possibly still are, used in New Zealand playground lore, creating a bizarre symmetry in my mind between Bedford and somewhere unimaginably far away.

          My God, what am I going on about? I have just passed through Hiroshima, possibly one of the most humbling and thought provoking cities in the world, and I am writing about adults lying down in a nightclub and getting their friends to jump on top of them. So perhaps I should turn to the more serious issue of reporting that last night in Fukuoka, Japan’s fourth biggest city, a woman came and danced next to me in the DJ booth in her pants. Not swimwear, not hotpants, but literally in her knickers. I didn’t provoke her, hadn’t spoken to her, and in no way thought the party was inciting other people to remove clothing. I didn’t play “You Can Leave Your Hat On” by Tom Jones from The Full Monty, nor did I announce on the microphone that it is common in the UK for DJ’s to inspect the crowd’s undergarments, one at a time. She just came in the booth and started trying to dance about with me. Now I am an affable man, I avoid confrontation at all costs and will always be polite, especially in such a well-mannered country as Japan. So I smiled a kind of “Hey, I’m enjoying the fact that you’re expressing to me that you’re having a good time” kind of smile and dance acknowledgement for a while, but she was getting in the way, and spoiling my flow. The situation came to a head as she started asking for a microphone, knocked over my drink and splashed her well fake-tanned legs in lashings of rum and coke. Good riddance to all mental, semi naked jiggling Japanese women, that has always been my motto and will remain so for a long time to come. But it was a great gig, organised by my good friend Yoshihiro Okino from Kyoto Jazz Massive and the good people at Minotaur. Arigatou Izumi-san! Check the Ma-blog here, for some great fashion, lifestyle and music tips from around the world. Ma-blog sounds a bit like a kind of redneck, Waltons-styled family mother of wild and unruly infant blogs. I like the idea of that.

     Another idea I had, on the plane this time, was for an incredible new horror film. I noticed that through the eleven-hour flight some people were capable of deep and seemingly unbreakable sleep. At the sight of hundreds of dribbling, comatose people with their mouths wide open and eyes tight shut, my emotional reactions ranged from intense jealousy to mild arousal. Then I had a brainstorm. Remember ‘Snakes On A Plane’? Perhaps you remember the less successful follow-ups, ‘Scorpions On A Hovercraft’, or the ill-fated ‘Ear-wigs On A Tractor’? No?  In any case, a simple premise for a film, you can’t escape the snakes because you are trapped on a plane. Ok, quite scary, I haven’t actually seen it, but I imagine they find some inventive ways to dispose of them: down the toilet, stuffing them into those metal trolley things or playing them an endless loop of a Katie Melhua song. But what about this for some air bound terror- ‘Zombies On A Plane’? Imagine that, no guns or axes to protect yourself, only your wit, some small plastic knives and forks, tiny packets of pretzels and the in-flight safety card. My first draft will be finished by the time I’m back on the 4^th of August, so get ready to poo yourself! It will be the biggest revolution in horror since the scriptwriter for Friday 13^th Part Three went to an Ice Hockey match. BOOOOO!    

        Anyway, I think that’s it for me. 3 more gigs to go, and hopefully some more tales to spin in the weeks to come. Hopefully it will be packed with stories of fun, adventure and of course, zombies! I will leave you now with the notion that even though I am feeling on top of the world, I am still finding it possible to get tremendously annoyed by something I had previously been blissfully unaware of. Finally, after many trips touring the country, I have encountered something quite horrific. Japanese Chavs.  This could be a scarier concept than ‘Zombies On A Plane’.