Day One: in which our hero sallies forth

I’m writing this on the shinkansen from Nagoya to Osaka. This is the beginning of what one of my friends called “living the dream.” For the next four nights I will be following 90s rock bands across Japan, culminating, on the fifth night, with my band’s first concert of 2025. I am in my 45^th year. I may not survive this.

It began when The Almighty (Glasgow’s greatest rock band: fuck you, Biffy) announced three dates in Japan: 29^th January at Big Cat in Osaka, followed by two nights—30^th and 31^st January—at Club Citta in Kawasaki. The Almighty are a huge bucket list band for me, for reasons I will get into, so obviously I was going to at least one show. The academic year ended for me on January 16^th. I would be 100% free. Why not go all three nights? Why not, indeed. Tickets secured; hotels booked. Sorted.

About a month later, Cavalera announced two dates in Japan. They’d be playing Big Cat on 28^th January. The same venue as The Almighty, literally the night before. Cavalera, also known as Cavalera Conspiracy, are the Cavalera brothers, Max and Igor, better known to the world as Brazilian heavy metal band Sepultura. Max left the band in 1996 and they continued with another singer for a while, before Igor left in 2006. I won’t go into the whole Ship of Theseus thing about bands still being the same band when members leave, but I’d say that for most people, once there were no Cavaleras in Sepultura, it wasn’t Sepultura anymore. Eventually Max and Igor patched things up and started a new band playing new material. Then, in 2022, they started re-recording the earliest Sepultura records—Bestial Devastation, Morbid Visions, and Schizophrenia—ostensibly for technical reasons (more money and better technology means a cleaner sound) but more likely for rights reasons (as Taylor Swift has also done. I wish they’d swap album covers).

This is what they are touring; essentially a best of early Sepultura. Having never seen Sepultura back in the day but with Chaos AD being a top ten album for me, I was all in. Two nights in Osaka, two in Kawasaki. Done.

Then StarKat invited us (Red Flag Waltz) to play with them in Nagoya on 1^st Feb. We haven’t played a show since May 2024 due to the drummer bringing life into the world. We are itching to get back on stage. It was set in stone

FIVE DAYS OF ROCK

My wife rolls her eyes at the prospect. Some of my friends have said they can’t believe I’m doing it. Others are jealous. My doctor would probably advise against it. Fuck it. Teenage Iain would approve. This is exactly the kind of thing I dreamt of doing when I was living in rural Aberdeenshire, hundreds of miles from anywhere my favourite bands played, unable to afford tickets even if they did come that far north, and unable to travel far under my own steam, relying on my dad to take me to my earliest shows (Aerosmith in Glasgow being the very first). “What is an adult?” a friend asked me today on Facebook. An adult, to teenage Iain, was someone who could afford to buy gig tickets, could travel to see bands wherever they were playing, and was old enough to get in. Man, I yearned to be that kind of adult. That last one—getting in—was crucial. It explains why I need to see The Almighty.

October 1993, 13-year-old Iain has a ticket to see The Almighty supported by The Wildhearts and Kerbdog at the Music Hall in Aberdeen. This is, in my opinion, the greatest touring line up of all time. None of Iain’s friends are even remotely interested in this kind of music so he’s going alone. In the afternoon, long hair, band t-shirt (can’t remember which now, but there’s a good chance it was the Powertrippin’ shirt),

ripped jeans, Iain goes along to HMV on Union Street where he gets his 12” of “Out of Season” signed by the band (no idea where that is now. It went into my dad’s house when I moved to Japan and then disappeared along with the rest of my records). He’s too shy to speak to them properly. They are actual rock stars. The singer, Ricky Warwick, is married to Vanessa Warwick from MTV. The guitarist, Pete Friesen, is in Wayne’s World (he was in Alice Cooper’s band at the time, he’s the one who asks Alice, “In fact, isn’t Milwaukee an Indian name?”). They are ROCK STARS.

It’s about 2pm, the doors open at 6 or 7 (I can’t remember) so Iain just wanders around town listening to Powertrippin’, Earth Vs The Wildhearts and the eponymous Kerbdog on his Sony Walkman, killing time, nothing more than the bus fare home in his pocket.

He joins the queue as soon as it forms. The anticipation is killing him. This is going to be awesome.

Obviously, it wasn’t, or I wouldn’t be telling this story.

I didn’t get in. I was 13 years old and unaccompanied. It was over 18s unless you were with an adult. No one in the queue took pity on me and said, “he’s with me.” I stood there, stunned, on the verge of tears. On the other side of the wall three of my favourite bands were getting ready to play. I had the ticket in my hand. The baldy fuckers on the door were having none of it.

I took the bus home, furious, miserable.

In 1996 I saw The Wildhearts opening for AC/DC. I wore a homemade t-shirt that said “headphuqed” in the Sex Pistols cut-out lettering (they have a song called “My Baby is a Headfuck” and an album called P.H.U.Q pronounced “fuck”. It was genius for a 15 year old.) The lineup had changed a bit; CJ had been replaced by Jef Streatfield. It wasn’t a great show. They played six songs, one of which was a cover. The AC/DC crowd didn’t give a fuck and Ginger didn’t take it well, abusing them (not the five of us madly trying to get a pit going). AC/DC put on their usual top-notch show, but it was a disappointment to me. I’d kind of seen the Wildhearts, but not really.

I saw them again, properly, in 2019 in Nagoya. The classic line up, CJ back in the band (briefly). Pete (singer of RFW) and I went, a night that cemented our friendship. Just before the Wildhearts came on, Ginger suffered a hernia. It looked like they’d have to cancel the show. I thought I was cursed. In the end they soldiered on. It was one of the best gigs of my life.

The Almighty split up in 1996, reforming briefly a couple of times to release new music that they don’t really acknowledge these days. Then in 2023 they reformed properly, the original line up, and played three gigs in the UK. That was to be it. Three gigs only. It was such a success, the next year they did it again. And again. The Almighty were always big in Japan, so I held a sliver of hope… and sure enough. 13-year-old Iain, furious and miserable on the bus home, was finally going to get to see The Almighty.

What is an adult? Someone who has the time and money to do the things they were denied as a kid.

This is for you teenage Iain, 5 nights of rock, following The Al-Fucking-Mighty across Japan. It’s a weird life arc I’ve been on but sometimes it makes narrative sense, and this is one of those times.

So here I am, with a can of Kirin and a katsu sandwich on the shinkansen off to Osaka to see Sepultura and then The Almighty. It is, to quote the Almighty, going to be Wild and Wonderful.

TBC