Exploring Japan Through Jazz - Part One
Tokyo's incredible jazz kissas, including JazzHaus POSY, Narcissus, Pithecanthropus Erectus, and more.
There’s no place quite like a jazz kissa.
If you’re a jazz lover like me, these places are as close to paradise as you can get. If you’re unfamiliar, a jazz kissa is a small bar or café where talking is discouraged, and the focus of everyone in the space is strictly on listening to the music being played.
Jazz kissas originated in the post-WWII period when the Japanese inherited discarded vinyl records left by American soldiers. A love for the genre quickly developed; however, a lack of experienced jazz musicians in the country meant that their desire for live music remained unfulfilled. It was then that the jazz kissa was born, designed to replicate the live listening experience with loud music and high-quality hi-fi setups.
Today, these unique venues continue to be retreats where the music matters, the drinks and coffee are strong, and the masters and mamas (the usually solitary figures who oversee the kissas) are some of the most experienced and knowledgeable people in the business.
Jazz kissas are steeped in history, and visiting them feels like stepping back in time. They’re often filled with relics from the past—whether it’s a stack of vinyl records, ash-covered figurines, or worn-out photographs covering every inch of the walls.
There’s so much I love about these special spaces, but what I think I love most is that they are places of discovery. Even during short visits, I’ve found so much new music, learned from the masters and mamas, and felt at the center of the jazz world. There’s no higher level of appreciation for the craft than at a jazz kissa, where jazz icons are revered as eternal beings who stand above us mere mortals. It may sound like a weird cult, but often, the comparison holds some level of truth.
Last October and November, I visited Japan for the third time. This trip was the most prolific in terms of visits to jazz venues, as I made it to 18 kissas, six live music venues, and several jazz-adjacent cafés and stores. Some I had visited before, some I had found during my preliminary research or had been recommended to me, and some I simply stumbled upon.
In this five-part series, I will cover every venue I visited, sharing anecdotes, observations, and images that I hope will inspire any jazz lover in Japan to visit. Part one covers the first handful of jazz kissas I visited in Tokyo, a city where jazz continues to have a very real and beating heart.
JazzHaus POSY
Shimokitazawa
I’ve had the pleasure of visiting JazzHaus POSY several times over the past couple of years, and it’s the jazz kissa I always return to on every trip to Tokyo. It’s a tiny space, but it’s full of history, and one of the most welcoming kissas I’ve ever visited. The hospitality from POSY Mama, who literally uses stacks of vinyl records to maintain her balance while moving about the bar, and her daughter, is unmatched. Expect relaxing, piano-oriented jazz for the most part (Waltz for Debby has played during each of my visits), but that suits me just fine. No jazz lover visiting Tokyo should skip it. Just seeing the Bill Evans sign lit up out front makes me smile.
Samurai
Shinjuku
I’ve had Samurai on my list of places to visit since I first learned that it was named after Jean-Pierre Melville’s masterpiece, Le Samouraï—one of my very favourite films (there’s even a small photo of Alain Delon on the door). What I love about Samurai, aside from its name, is the ever-attentive and downright cool master who oversees the place. I’ve heard that it has become somewhat of a tourist destination in recent years, which is a shame because it’s lost a bit of the charm you can easily find in other jazz kissas throughout the city. That being said, the master is fantastic, the music is great, and it’s just a stone’s throw away from the East Exit of Shinjuku Station.
Masako
Shimokitazawa
I imagine Masako is a great place to unwind. It’s on the second floor of a small building in Shimokitazawa, and afternoons are packed with locals on work or study breaks. The speakers sit close to the entryway, meaning you’re immediately hit with an assault of free and experimental jazz as soon as you step inside. It’s something of an initiation ritual and serves as a way to shake off any worries or concerns you might be carrying from the outside world before you settle into this insular jazz haven. Attention is always on the music, as visitors sit facing the speakers. It’s one of the louder jazz kissas I’ve visited, so leave your lingering thoughts at the door and settle in for some wall-to-wall jazz.
Narcissus
Shinjuku
I’m so glad I returned to Narcissus for a second visit. My first visit was late on a Saturday evening when some noisy and obnoxious tourists ruined much of the incredible experience this jazz kissa has to offer. Located in the raucous back streets of Kabukicho, the atmosphere here can vary depending on the time of day. But it’s absolutely worth the gamble. The mama is one of the best—always attentive, helpful, and knowledgeable, with stacks of incredible records behind her. It’s the sort of place where you can sit and think to yourself or just let your mind drift away with the music.
Pithecanthropus Erectus
Kamata
I first discovered Pithecanthropus Erectus when I saw it featured on the cover of the Tokyo Jazz Joints book. It had a lot to live up to—not only because it supposedly inspired the Tokyo Jazz Joints book, but also because it’s quite far from central Tokyo. When I arrived, I was left waiting outside for almost an hour for it to open (the website and signs said it opened at 6 pm, but the master told me they’ve recently changed to opening at 7 pm). I’m happy to confirm that it was definitely worth the wait. The space is tiny but incredibly lived-in, like a couch that has moulded to your body over the years, taking on certain characteristics from all the visitors it has had. The bashful master, upon learning I was visiting from Australia, gushed about his love for INXS in broken English. The very best jazz kissas are welcoming spaces where you immediately feel at home. Pithecanthropus Erectus is among them.
Terrasse Dolce
Kamata
Visiting Terrasse Dolce was, for me, one of those fortuitous experiences you might see in a film. I arrived far too early for Pithecanthropus Erectus to open and decided to try my luck by googling any nearby jazz bars. To my surprise, “jazz bar in Kamata” brought up a result just 80 meters away. Terrasse feels a bit like an outlier on this list, as it has more of a daytime café vibe where friends gather and chat. But don’t let that deter you—it’s a charming little spot with interesting magazines and books to browse, such as Brutus and The Vintage Jazz Poster Scrap.
Thanks for reading! Part two, covering the next batch of Tokyo kissas, will be up next week. For now, here’s my recommended album of the week, Glenn Doig’s fantastically melancholic debut, Trio.
Awesome read.
Had the pleasure of going to Posy and Masako… both gems!