I BELONG TO THE JET GENERATION
I Lost a Film in a Box, then Rediscovered Guitar Wolf and a Book Called Speed Tribes
Just over twenty-two years ago, I set out to make Suburban Kid. My first, ambitious short film – with a crew, lighting, wardrobe, and a cast of actual actors – was about a Japanese garage rock guitar player on the verge of mental collapse while trying to keep his band practice together in an undisclosed Yakuza warehouse. After filming, I lost the plot during the daunting editing process in the hectic pace of the Art school I attended. I pushed it aside, thinking I would return to it later with fresh eyes. Other film projects took precedence, and finally, Suburban Kid wound up in a box... then I lost it.
During the height of COVID, a rough cut of Suburban Kid turned up in the Arizona garage belonging to one of the film’s cast members, actress Rita Toikka. I had recently looked over some of the photos from the project and felt serious guilt that I never got to complete it, show it to anyone, or screen it anywhere. Then, almost on cue, while the rough cut was en route to me, I found outtakes while looking for something else in the bottom of an old box in my home in L.A. Suddenly, the film was no longer completely lost. I had options. I would finish it. I had all the time in the world as the world seemingly was ending.
When I started Suburban Kid, I was a jaded art school student, and one of the bands I had been obsessed with that summer was Guitar Wolf. The lo-fi, loud, and dangerous sound I discovered at L.A. indie record store institution Aron’s struck a chord. The Japanese trio’s raw energy, uniform look, and lack of traditional musical ability centered me in the way The Clash’s self-titled album and The Stooges’ Funhouse had. At that time, I felt swallowed up by the second coming of Prog Rock by way of England and Iceland as the rich Britpop scene faded and indie became a sea of neon earplugs in cardigan sweaters.
As the walls closed in, I punched a hole in the drywall and climbed out. Japanese cinema also interested me. Films like Female Prisoner 701: Scorpion were shown to me by a film school buddy alongside the usual suspects like Yojimbo, Tokyo Drifter, and Battle Royale. More importantly, a particular book caught my attention called Speed Tribes by Karl Taro Greenfeld. The anthology of short stories set in the days before the bubble burst opened the doors to the Japanese subcultures of the Bosozuko, Hostess Bars, and the Japanese porn industry. I began to see things differently, thanks to Greenfeld and the stories based on what he had seen and known. This book is as essential to me as Jesus’ Son by Denis Johnson, and I think both are among the best books of the 1990s.
Well…back to the music and that drywall punch that brought me some needed clarity.
With Radiohead’s Kid A and a slew of bands ripping that prog 19-minute song vibe off, the scene started to feel like an overblown Hollywood Bowl light show hosted by Rick Wakeman’s velvet cape. Guitar Wolf’s message of simplicity through distortion cuts through the shit. I wrote an eight-page script while listening to 1999s Jet Generation on my CD boombox, chain-smoking with a pot of coffee nearby. While in production, I noticed a contact with a New York number on the flip side of the Guitar Wolf CD booklet, Yuki Wantanabi. I said, “fuck it,”; and called and left Yuki a nervous message detailing what I was up to in L.A. and how I would like to use Guitar Wolf’s music in a short film they helped inspire.
A few days later, I got a call back from Yuki telling me that she had discussed my request with Guitar Wolf and that they were interested. I quickly faxed my script long distance from a nearby Kinkos to the band’s lead singer/guitarist, Seiji, and, within a week, received a thumbs-up from the band.
Since I had never finished Suburban Kid, I never followed up with them. As I tracked down the other actors with the help of a private investigator named Karma, I wondered if the offer to work with Guitar Wolf was still technically valid 20 years later. Would I be remembered after all the tours, subsequent albums, and life in general? I enlisted the help of Waka Konohana, a Japanese film reporter I know who shared an appreciation for the band. She connected the dots. Guitar Wolf remembered the L.A. film school kid who had faxed them his script. We were re-connected, and the film was re-aligned with a cut I was happy for the band’s leader, Seiji to see. Then he agreed to score the film.
Maybe it was supposed to go down like this. Long live Guitar Wolf.
Excerpt from Speed Tribes by Karl Taro Greenfeld;
“It’s a job, it pays the rent and then some,” said Jun between takes. “I have real goals beyond adult video. You know - a wife and kids, with a house in the suburbs. And this stuff all goes to finance a dream that will be realized when these videos have been recorded over with some aerobics program.”
Referenced Music - Guitar Wolf’s Jet Generation, Radiohead’s Kid A
Photo Credits - Suburban Kid film stills by Vera Hartman, all other photos credited to photographers in the captions.
Special thanks to the cast of Suburban Kid - Hiroshi, Rita, Zack, and Bang.