[category]
[title]
Way back in the 1960s and early ’70s, Shinjuku was sprinkled with jazz-focused coffee shops, affectionately known as jazz kissa. In these establishments, jazz wasn’t just background music, but the main draw and focus.
These cafés gave rise to the uniquely Japanese tradition of slowly sipping coffee or drinking cocktails in a ‘listening room’ for hours on end, but they gradually began to fade as home audio systems became more accessible.
However, thanks to the support of dedicated fans, some celebrated names from that bygone era have stuck around – including Dug (formerly Dig). Unfortunately, this café too will now close, with the final chapter in the café’s 65-year history being written on June 27. Since the announcement of the closure was made on social media on April 1, jazz aficionados have been visiting the café daily to say goodbye.
Dug’s roots can be traced back to Dig, a jazz café that opened in 1961 in a different part of Shinjuku, near the now-closed Alta building. Founded by jazz-artist photographer Hozumi Nakadaira, Dug’s interior is decorated with photographs taken by Nakadaira of legends such as Miles Davis and John Coltrane; luxurious assets that quietly watch over the brick basement interior.
As a haunt for intellectuals such as Shuji Terayama, Kenji Nakagami and Tamori, who was a regular when he first moved to Tokyo, it’s a place adorned with stories of various celebrities. Dug also appears in Haruki Murakami’s novel Norwegian Wood, making it a pilgrimage site for diehard fans of the author.
We caught up with Louis Nakadaira, the current proprietor, to hear how he feels about the café’s closure.
—How do you feel now that Dug, which has been in business in the heart of Shinjuku for over 50 years, is closing its doors?
To be honest, we were caught off guard by the sudden news of the building’s demolition and have been rushing about trying to sort things out ever since. It is a great pity that the space, designed by architect Katsuki Iwabuchi and created together with our customers, is to be lost. It was a wonderful place where renowned musicians from Japan and abroad would pop in on a whim, and their cheerful smiles and voices – ‘Oh, Louis, how’s it going?’ – would instantly fill the air with positivity.
―With the increase in tourists visiting Japan in recent years, how has your clientele changed?
In recent years, we've seen a noticeable increase in younger patrons. Japan's jazz café culture, which is centred on listening, is one of the country's most distinctive musical traditions. While jazz in the US developed as music for dancing and drinking, in Japan it gave rise to places where people quietly engage with the music.
Huge speakers and a vast collection of records, private conversation strictly forbidden… People would sit for hours listening to classic albums over a single cup of coffee. This style of appreciation seems to have been regarded as rather unusual overseas.
Having come full circle, the atmosphere is now much more light-hearted and free. Leaving aside complex theories, I feel [like jazz is] naturally being embraced by the younger generation as a ‘spice’ that adds a touch of luxury to everyday life, much like the aroma of coffee. Rather than saying the way people engage with jazz has changed, I feel it has finally ‘blended in’– in a positive sense – with the lives of today’s young people. The free spirit inherent in jazz has always stirred the hearts of those who feel bored, and that essence remains entirely unchanged. That is the most fascinating aspect of it all.
—Could you tell us about any musicians or anecdotes that have particularly stuck in your memory from among your customers?
It is a great pleasure and an honour when famous musicians from Japan and abroad pop in. In particular, my good friend Terumasa Hino (trumpeter) has a tradition of signing and drawing an illustration on the back of my white button-down shirt every time he visits. These are precious treasures to me.
Looking back, it all began in 1968 when Stan Getz and Chick Corea, who were visiting Japan, made a surprise appearance at a live performance at Dug featuring Terumasa Hino and Motohiko Hino.
Other memorable moments include when the avant-garde Albert Mangelsdorff Quartet recorded its live album Diggin’ - Live at Dug, Tokyo (1971) here, as well as Mal Waldron’s Meditations (1972), Carmen McRae’s As Time Goes By (1973) and the Barry Harris Trio’s Barry Harris Live At “Dug” (1995), among others, have been preserved as classic recordings of live performances at Dug. We were honoured to welcome numerous jazz musicians to the venue, including Sadao Watanabe, Keiko Lee and Yasuko Agawa.
Makoto Wada, the illustrator who designed our logo, was also a regular from his student days and developed a close friendship with the previous owner.
—You’ve continued to operate the venue despite several relocations over the years. Do you have any plans or ideas for reopening at a different location in the future?
As the demolition of the building is scheduled for July 1, we had no choice in the matter. It is an inevitable part of the changing times.
This marks the end of Dug, as created by the first-generation ‘master’, Hozumi Nakadaira. While we’re still exploring possibilities in earnest, what comes next will be a new chapter that’s something distinctly mine. Let’s just say ‘To be continued...’
More from Time Out Tokyo
Tokyo Streets X is happening this weekend – here are some artists to look out for
‘Hunter x Hunter’ is back from hiatus… again
Bruno Mars is returning to Japan for a 12-show dome tour
FIFA fever: where to watch the World Cup in Tokyo
This new Tokyo exhibition recaps the career of anime auteur Mamoru Hosoda
Want to be the first to know what’s cool in Tokyo? Sign up to our newsletter for the latest updates from Tokyo and Japan.