03 Los Angeles

Even after the tour ended, I continued to work with X. Immediately after the Yokohama Arena live, I supported the band as sound manipulator at a "secret gig" in a 350-person capacity venue called eggman, the band's orchestra backed show "X with Orchestra", and the 3-day Tokyo Dome dates "On the Verge of Destruction". I also participated in live performances of Yoshiki's duo project with Tetsuya Komuro, V2.

X became X Japan, and the band went to the United States to record their album Art of Life in the summer of 1992. Yoshiki wanted me to go along and I was invited. I left the company I had been working for as a synthesizer programmer up until then, and embarked with the band for their trip to Los Angeles. We were all, quite literally, in the same boat now.

It was straight out of a dream that I would be moving to Hollywood, a place I admired and always longed to visit.

... But, reality is not so sweet. The discrepancies in lifestyle between both countries hit harder than I imagined. First, I didn't know the language, and was unable to communicate. I didn't know how to make a phone call or how to properly dispose of the trash. Even having a meal was a pain. We were staying just one mountain or two away to the west of that famous Hollywood sign, at an apartment complex located in a lot that had been carved out of the foot of a mountain. The property is entirely fenced and non-residents are forbidden from trespassing, making the location completely disconnected from the rest of the world. The closest supermarkets and restaurants were definitely not within walking distance, and without a car, I found myself in an environment where I didn't have the freedom to go out to eat whenever I wanted. Due to its isolation, the area was probably very secure, but doing anything was extremely inconvenient. I often have deep thoughts about how all the band and staff members managed to endure living in that isolated place. The name is unforgettable: Oakwood Apartments. A tiny convenience store dotting the vast property grounds was my only lifeline.

Still, I recall that stress was always greatly relieved when I went out to have a drink with hide and the staff crew. A local coordinator would come along showing us various Japanese restaurants and izakaya so we could find our favorites. We went to many places, the most memorable being a fake teriyaki chicken bar where they served tare sauce on mitarashi dango, an izakaya where a shooting incident had happened a few months before, a sushi restaurant that circumvented the California law that prohibits the sale of alcohol after 2 am by serving beer in teacups, allowing us to drink the whole night long, an izakaya where the owner ran after us shouting that we didn't tip enough. But then we found, in the Japanese neighborhood called Little Tokyo in downtown Los Angeles, a karaoke bar we found ourselves returning to in our spare time. The owner was Japanese, and it was a strange place, not exactly a bar, not exactly a club, maybe a karaoke pub? The Showa-era style of this place was so comforting I often doubted we really were in LA. The elderly Japanese lady owner, Mama, always welcomed us with a smile and the words: "Come in, my children!"

Although it was a karaoke pub, we mainly drank instead of singing karaoke. hide only sang once. Kenji Sawada's "Toki no Sugiyuku mama ni". If I had to describe hide's singing at the time, I can only say he had what is often called a 'cicada voice', but I was surprised to listen to him sing in a 'normal' voice. Perhaps that was the first and last time I saw him sing karaoke. And yet, I've listened to his singing voice hundreds, maybe thousands of times over the years.