Fueled by a feral enthusiasm, a music lover and his trusted film camera made a pilgrimage to Japan’s Fuji Rock Festival for three days of trekking-core fashion, good vibes, and brilliant musical acts.
Before anything else, I should probably tell you that the title of this article isn’t a typo. It’s a subtle nod to this year’s Fuji Rock Day 1 headliner, Fred Again.., whom I recently saw live at the festival. A friend once whimsically said, “From your living room to watching him live”—referring to the time we hosted them in our flat while I played one of his YouTube rooftop sets on our television. We were pulling ourselves back together, listening to his unique yet catchy style, and found the people around him in the video oddly fascinating.
I started listening to Fred during the height of the pandemic. Around that same time, the film Triangle of Sadness came out. My wife and I were completely caught off guard when we heard “Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing)” in the final scene—and from that moment on, we knew we weren’t the only ones listening to him.
A couple of days before we left for Tokyo (the entry point of our music festival pilgrimage), I remember my wife explaining to my in-laws what the Fuji Rock Festival is, particularly wondering whether it was something we could turn into a tradition in the years to come. After all, we’re at a stage where our friends rarely go out and are beginning to settle down, some already nesting and nursing their respective families. I guess we were about to find out…
A Pilgimage In “Trekking-Core”
We landed in Haneda at midnight before opening day, taking a red-eye straight from our day jobs, only to find ourselves right in the middle of Ginza, enjoying what was probably one of the best wagyu sandos we’ve ever had at 2 AM. From that point on, if the sandwich we had just devoured was any indication of what was to come, I knew we were in for a treat.
The festival itself is situated in Naeba, a quaint ski town north of Tokyo. Getting there took nearly a two-hour Shinkansen ride from the city center, a forty-minute bus ride from Echigo Yuzawa Station, and a few thousand steps on foot before we finally reached our ryokan. It wasn’t your typical accommodation—simple, straightforward, and without frills—but it did its job.
As we made our way to the Fuji Rock grounds, there was already a sense of excitement and energy with every stride. Looking around, bucket hats were ubiquitous, camping chairs were slung over shoulders, and perhaps “trekking-core” was the most fitting term to describe the style on display during the three-day event.
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Music Festival, Japanese-Style
Everything at Fuji Rock was organized. From the moment you claimed your entrance bracelets to the food and beverage concessionaires, you could immediately tell you were stepping into a Japanese festival. It was meticulously planned, even with over 122,000 people attending from around the world. In true Japanese fashion, it was clean, acts started on time, and people were always considerate and mindful of others’ space. After all, the festival has been running for the past 28 years. Its legacy and status are unquestionable.
What struck me most were the demographics of the attendees. Around 30% were foreigners, while the rest were Japanese. The festival was filled with people of all ages. It felt completely safe and welcoming, with kids as young as three or four running around, and even senior citizens in attendance. It just goes to show that appreciation for music knows no age or era. But it seemed to be more than just that—it was tradition, a kind of ritual or rite of passage one must go through to experience the idiosyncrasies of life. One could even argue it’s a coming-of-age experience: kids would fall to the ground and literally get back up without a qualm, while the more advanced in age slept on mats during the day without a care, reserving their energy for an act they wanted to see later that night.
Seeing Fred Again.. live that day was a completely immersive experience. He even operated several cameras himself onstage (which were then projected live onto the LED screens), giving the audience a point-of-view shot of exactly what he was doing behind whichever instrument he was on. As a fan, of course, I’m biased—but I can’t count how many times I felt goosebumps during his performance. His talent, combined with his personable character, is the reason he’s amassed such a loyal following. He’s just like any other friend, one who happens to be incredibly good at what he does, and who also seems like a genuinely nice person.
Fine Days At Fuji Rock
During the second day of the festival, there was a downpour, but the show went on. We were in our ponchos, sitting or standing with the crowd as if nothing could break us. And honestly, nothing did. That day, we listened to Barry Can’t Swim (whom we named our dog after) and Four Tet. Both acts fall under the electronic/house genre, and boy, did they blow our minds, auditorily and visually.
On the final day, we decided to take it easy. We didn’t rush and just took our sweet time soaking everything in. We grabbed our usual brunch and coffee from a trusty konbini nearby, managed to smuggle in a few bottles of sake, and off we went, back to the festival. Luckily, our friends had secured a spot on top of a hill overlooking the main stage. We sat on the ground and watched the steady stream of people moving through the concert grounds, all while jamming to Little Simz in the background.
The sun was setting, and that feeling of the event winding down started to kick in, but not without a bang. We got to see Haim, Royel Otis, and Vampire Weekend close out the festival, along with a few extras. The 1950’s Western Caravan Orchestra also performed a rendition of “Imagine” by John Lennon, and it got me thinking: if Yoko partly represented Japanese culture, no wonder Lennon was so enamored. I mean, I would be too. Japan loved Western art and culture right back—and it shows. It felt fitting, then, to be in Japan, surrounded by both local and international acts, witnessing firsthand how seamlessly East and West could come together through music.
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We Came For The Music, But…
So, would I go to Fuji Rock again? The short answer is yes, but let me explain. If the stars align and the boxes check out, why not? If there are two or more artists I want to see live, that makes for an easy value proposition. If the schedule permits and you won’t have to sacrifice too many leave days (especially if you work a corporate job), it’s not much of a hurdle. If your budget allows and you’re able to secure proper accommodations, that’s peak convenience.
See, hotel rooms nearby are usually obtained through an online raffle. There’s an option to camp, but that means lugging all your gear in transit and fully immersing yourself in outdoor living for three days. If you’re into that, then good on you.
Ultimately, while we didn’t have the legs or stamina we had in our twenties, we still had the feral enthusiasm that powered us through the weekend-long event. After all, we came for the music, but went home with so much more.
Photography by Paulo Edillor
