TOKYO JAZZ JOINTSTemples of listening, where the music is anything but background burble. Chatter at your peril.
Stop talking, switch off your phone and dive into the unique world of the Japanese jazz listening joint, or kissa. These are analogue temples to jazz with high-grade audio systems, huge record collections, piles of memorabilia, good coffee and booze.
Kōhi-en is a short walk from Yamagata station in northern Honshu. The owner, Adachi-san, who sadly died in 2023, filled his days playing records in this beautifully- appointed space filled with jazz treasures. At the time of writing his wife is keeping the joint open
The Tokyo Jazz Joints project is the obsessive passion of Belfast photographer Philip Arneill. With the help of his American-in-Yokohama buddy, James Catchpole, Philip has published a deluxe photography book, runs jazz listening events and tells the story of the ongoing search for obscure spots all over Japan. ‘Don’t like jazz? Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,’ says Philip.
‘Jazz is deeply embedded in Japan, not somewhere associated with jazz, but somewhere you hear it in shops or the street, more than any other country including America, where the music originated. There are 5-600 of these places, some closing, but also new ones still opening. There have been music cafes in Japan since the late 1920s, but when the Americans were there for the post-WW2 occupation from 1945-52, jazz music came with them and it started to infiltrate through,’ he explains.
‘Art Blakey first came to Tokyo in 1961, and that inspired a lot of people. They went to see that concert, or if they didn’t, they heard about it. A lot of black American jazz musicians went to Japan and played there and they didn’t just play in the cities, they went on to places afterwards to jam. A lot of people in Tokyo, predominantly men, fell in love with jazz. Many of these guys were students or just working there for a time. When they went back to where they were from they opened their own spaces, and jazz pollinated across the country.
Once one of the oldest remaining joints in Tokyo, the incredible Charmant is sadly no more, along with the building that housed it in one of Tokyo’s most historic and atmospheric vintage neighbourhoods, Arakawa-ku
The incomparable Pithecanthropus Erectus, tucked away near the tracks in a run-down area of southwest Tokyo, and the spiritual home of the Tokyo Jazz Joints project
‘As most people didn’t have money for records or hi-fi they flocked to the new spots, many named after jazz artists, to immerse themselves in the music.’
Philip’s photography project began in 2015 when was a teacher working in Japan. After leaving, he continued to visit and meet up with James. The book, Tokyo Jazz Joints, now in its third edition, has sold around 10,000 copies, big numbers for a photography book. Thanks to taking more photos, fundraising, speaking at conferences and running events, it’s now a part-time job for Philip alongside his day job with an education charity.
The utterly unique Corner Pocket in Tokyo’s charming Kagurazaka closed in 2023, and its kind and generous owner, Matsuura-san, has since passed away
Jazz kissa are packed with lifeless jazz memorabilia, like this wonderful record label ashtray in Osaka’s Bird/56
The book has an enduring appeal. ‘It intersects a lot of things, so you have people who are into photography and people who collect records, people who like travel, people who love Japan, and people who are fascinated by analogue culture. There’s nothing that can replicate the feeling of going and sitting in one of these places yourself.’
Perhaps by now you want to go to Japan and find some joints for yourself. Philip describes a bloke who used the book as a guide of sorts as he dragged his poor wife round obscure parts of Japan, hitting up the joints. Be careful though, as many places are closing and the book is an attempt to record the end of a great era as well as the evolution of what will follow. If you do make a trip, this is Philip’s advice to listening bar etiquette.
‘Don’t be a dick. Just read the room. Go in and be quiet, be respectful, order a drink, sit down. You’ll find more often than not that the owners are pleased that you’re there, so they might strike up a conversation, whether you speak Japanese or use a translator app. I think showing your interest in the music is always something that opens doors. Don’t touch their records. Don’t ask for records. Learn the phrase, Can I take some photos? And do that at the end, because coming in and looking like you’re trying to make content rather than enjoying the place doesn’t set the best tone. And don’t talk through the music or be on your phone, the whole point of these places is the music. It’s not a place to socialise in that way. It’s not a place to go on a date.’
One of the OG kissa, opened originally in 1933 in Yokohama’s Noge red-light district, Chigusa rose from the ashes at least twice, but seems now to be gone forever
Minton House continues to defy time and space, flying the flag for jazz kissa culture in the historic port city of Yokohama
You can always live the Japanese jazz life vicariously by listening to the Tokyo Jazz Joints podcast. Started in lockdown as a way for Philip and James to keep connected while in different countries, it showcases the friendship that has developed between these two collectors and takes the listener on an alternative travel show of the fringes of Japan.
‘It genuinely blows my mind how many listens it gets. The photographs can only tell a certain amount of the story, and what’s amazing about these places is the kind of anecdotal experiences you have, getting to them, which is often a bit of slapstick, but also when you get there and you meet incredible characters and they tell you these stories, you can’t really convey that in a photograph, so the podcast gives it an audio-visual element.’
Intro remains a hotspot for live jams, even at the expense of serving drinks to customers (the owner is often involved in the jams…)
Located in Shinjuku, once Tokyo’s most bohemian neighbourhood and hotbed of jazz kissa culture, Stick was run by an owner with an eclectic career – including being in the parachute regiment and a deep-sea diver – but has been closed for several years now
You can also get a taste by going to a Tokyo Jazz Joints listening event in the UK. ‘The idea with my listening events is to give people a feel of what a traditional jazz kissa would be like. Japan is a country that’s very comfortable with silence, unlike here, where we talk all the time.
‘I was quite nervous about it at first, but what’s amazed me is when people are told to be quiet, they go along with it and it seems to enhance their night. People have said, “I’ve never been lost in the music like this.” You’re given permission because someone has told you don’t talk, don’t be on your phone, so you don’t have to feel uncomfortable about it. I think it taps into this need that people now have increasingly for something more tangible and something analogue.’
Advert for a Coltrane special listening session on the 17th of every month in the wonderful Down Beat in Yokohama
Eight Modern, a cosy little gem on the southern island of Kyushu
Through projects like Tokyo Jazz Joints, what was a dying culture has begun to regenerate as, ironically, word spread through digital platforms.
‘I wouldn’t say I’ve contributed to the development of anything necessarily, but by raising awareness it’s probably part of a resurgence. Some new places are opening and some more places are evolving. There’s now a jazz and yakitori (chicken skewers) place that we went to. There’s a jazz and cycling place, even jazz and knitting! Some places are run by younger people, places more welcoming to women customers… It’s definitely a brighter picture than ten years ago when we started to photograph these places, because it felt then like this was a race against time.’
TOKYO JAZZ JOINTS has recently been reprinted. Get it at your local bookshop or tokyojazzjoints.com
SCENE. HEARD
Philip Arneill’s top five tracks he’s heard in Japanese jazz joints
Olé by John Coltrane
“I heard this in Downbeat, Yokohama. I remember it being ear-splittingly loud, trying to talk to James and just thinking, There’s no point, which was the point of these places. The music was so loud that you were actively discouraged, if not banned, from talking”.
Song From The Old Country by George Adams & Don Pullen
“This is available on record, but I was shown it on YouTube by the owner of Adams, the joint named in honour of George Adams. I had never seen piano playing like it. It blew my mind”.
Close To You Alone by Chico Freeman
“I heard this in Mingus, Hiroshima, last year and then when I went to another place called No Room For Squares, in Tokyo. It became a record that seemed to follow me round on that trip. It was also playing when I proposed to my partner, Julie, the end of that trip”.
Dear Lord by John Coltrane
“Heard it in Coltrane Coltrane, a kissa that is a temple to John Coltrane, in Kyushu. I had taken the owner a copy of the book and he had no idea the book existed. He opened it and there were all these photographs of Coltrane Coltrane. Then he got up with a stick and shuffled over to the record room and put on this record. It’s funny, because obviously he has everything Coltrane’s ever done, but it’s one of my favourite songs”.
Is It Not True, Simply Because You Cannot Believe It by Billy Harper
“Heard in Posy. The owner was not there, but her daughter was working that day and she asked, ‘Do you want to listen to anything?’ That’s not always the case. I asked for Billy Harper. Hearing his sax in that kind of space, then looking off to the left and his signature is on the wall, I just thought, Yes!”
Words by Ed Oxley
Photos by Philip Arneill
First published in Issue 4 of BOTHER magazine February 2025