With his goatee and finely pointed ears, James Vyner has a puckish quality that makes it difficult to imagine him, bewigged, in Her Majesty's court. In an alternative life, yes, Vyner was a barrister.

Since moving to Japan nearly 10 years ago, Vyner has traded the rarefied atmosphere of the courtroom for the equally esoteric one of a record store. Mr. Bongo, the Japanese branch of London's premiere dance music outlet, has become something of a clubhouse for DJs scouring the streets of Shibuya for the latest dance-floor fodder.

"Record stores have a distinct odor," says Vyner of the small shop high above the din of Udagawa-cho. "Most of these guys spend all their time in dark clubs, then head for the record shops when they bother to get up. Even my staff spends their lunch hour visiting other shops in the neighborhood."

The majority of customers, trading body hygiene for a little more time scouting their beats, might be "music maniacs," but Vyner winces at the limited audience implied by the term.

"A lot of this stuff could be just as popular as anything else," he says. "I think music is relegated to a very strange corner of the room in a way that literature or food or art are not. An average person can appreciate a really nice ethnic meal with a wide variety of foods, and read really interesting books and see good films and go to the theater, then only listen to Madonna. And that's weird."

He has, as he says, a lot on his chest that is not hair. "Showa 64," the jazzy new compilation from one of Vyner's other musical ventures, the Disorient label, could well be read as a very long rant, a musical volley from a man with a mission.

"After spending a long time in Japan, I wanted to give something back, to show people that I respect what's going on here. It's not just UFO, Krush and Monday Micheru, though they have to be on there. But it's not just them; there's a whole musical history as well."

The title refers to the year the previous emperor died as counted by the traditional Japanese calendar. It is also the year that UFO had their first U.K. hit. But as this record demonstrates, Japanese music was bubbling with creativity well before it attracted outside attention.

Ryuichi Sakamoto's "Riot in Lagos," recorded in 1982, still sings with originality. Likewise Anne Young, resembling a young Ella Fitzgerald, and Yuji Ohno's cut "Speak Low," recorded in 1975, have a freshness that demonstrates that Japan's acid-jazz scene had its own home-grown template.

The ethereal shamisen that punctuate Kiyoshi Yamaya's "Osorezan" seem so right in a dance music context that it single-handedly raises the question of why Japanese DJs seem intent on ignoring their own musical heritage. This only seems exploited by foreigners at the moment. Most recently, Talvin Singh used Okinawan group the Nenes on his latest record, "O.K." But with the exception of DJ L?K?O's abstracted mixes of matsuri music and break beats, Tokyo has yet to hear a fuller exploration.

"The Japanese are utterly besotted by what's happening in the U.K. or New York. The irony in that is that people [abroad] are becoming besotted by what's going on here," says Vyner.

If "Showa 64" proves that Japan's musical history goes back further than the first UFO single, the inclusion of classic comedy bits from the Snakeman Show, an early '80s radio program, shows a capability for sarcastic, self-deprecating humor that comes perilously (some would say gloriously) close to being unpolitically correct.

"Showa 64" is also in a sense a musical summing up for Vyner, who will return to the U.K. later this summer. Before doing so, he will briefly resurrect his own DJing career, moribund after too many late nights in dark smoky clubs. But July marks Vyner's 33 1/3 year, too important a date for any DJ to pass by.

James Vyner DJs tonight and July 16 at Blue in Aoyama. For more information, call Blue at (03) 3797-1591. He will also be DJing at Sugar High in Shibuya on July 24. For more information, contact Mr. Bongo at (03) 3462-1964.

If Jacques Derrida is the patron saint of literary deconstruction, then for a brief moment, circa 1990, Pavement was the pop music equivalent. On a series of EPs for the upstart label Drag City, Steve Malkus and his compatriots forced the pop song through their artistic ringer, fraying Malkus' beautiful melodies with feedback, electronic burbles and the lovely serendipity of home recording.

"Twilight Terror," Pavement's newest album, is a more relaxed affair. Malkus' sardonic love songs have been toned down and the experimentation has been sacrificed for almost Beatlesque melodies. Hints of banjo and harmonica evoke a bluesy quality and shades of -- gasp -- the Grateful Dead. The promotion photo too has the air of a band playing for the love of playing: Malkus et al. looking relentlessly white and middle class, and alas for the Gen-Xers that grew up with them, creeping into middle age.

Pavement with special guests Aug. 24-25 at Akasaka Blitz. Doors open at 6 p.m.; show starts at 7 p.m. All tickets 6,000 yen. For more information, call Creativeman at (03) 5466-0777.

Comma Records' adventures in the interstices of music move into outer space with Kyoto's Soft playing at Milk tonight. While label-mates AOA combine improvisation, live rhythms and DJing into a freeform take on techno, Soft explores the mellower, ambient manifestations of jazz before careening into thick psychedelic jams. Imagine a collision of Aphex Twin, Sun Ra and Pink Floyd. Joining them is label-mate DJ Tateyama, a mercurial fellow who mixes what might be best described as "junk techno." He claims to never use a record over 100 yen. The bargain bin never sounded this good.

Soft with DJs Tateyama, Keisuke and others tonight at Milk in Ebisu. Doors open at 8 p.m., but headliners playing well after midnight. Tickets 3,500 yen. For information, call (03) 5458-2826.