
After the show while everyone was collecting their coats and filing up the stairs and onto the street, I snuck out the back door and down the alley to find Yuzo Kayama sitting in the club's makeshift green room, a clear vinyl tent outside in the loading dock. We had a lovely conversation, we geeked out over Mosrites, and he was kind enough to sign mine.



Occasionally being a foreigner in Japan has its perks.
