Kichijoji is a good 20 minutes west of Shibuya on an express train, which places it smack dab in the middle of Tokyo's suburban belt. As such, it's the last place one would think of finding a bar dedicated to rock culture -- let alone one with a pedigree spanning a quarter of a century and with a provocative name like Bar Jap (only a local could get away with calling a bar that).
But there it is, less than a minute from the Inokashira Park exit of the station, tucked away on the second floor of a street lined with game centers and noodle shops, with fairy lights flickering in the window and a sign board at street level proclaiming "Vive La Rocka! Bar Jap."
The first time I met Daisuke Aizawa, the manager, was at Sonne, one of my local bars in Jiyugaoka. There he sat one night, his long, dyed-blonde hair all fluffy and flounced like a '70s rock musician and his insanely skinny frame draped in a black silk shirt and flares. His leather jacket hung nearby featuring the elaborately embellished insignia of Bar Jap.