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At the Hot House jazz club in Takadanobaba, you not only rub elbows with great jazz musicians and intense fans, you also rub shoulders, knees, ankles and hips. To get to the toilet, someone has to stand up (me as it turned out); to get in the door, the pianist has to move his bench; and to get a drink on the far side of the club, you have to wait for the drummer to take a break so he can hand the glass over from the kitchen to his right.

It’s surely the smallest jazz club in the world.

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