29-07-2025
How Japan made techno its own
Last weekend, on a stretch of green between Fukushima's Bandai and Adatara mountains, techno heads sweated and thrashed under a clear summer sky.
They had gathered from as far as India and Guam for rural, a three-day electronic music festival, and a chance to experience Japan's unique techno culture.
Why? Because Japan's club scene is a universe of its own.
Since the 1990s, Japanese artists have pushed the boundaries of electronic music in relative isolation, cultivating a distinct aesthetic that merges futuristic sound design with deep cultural roots.
According to Naoko Hisatsune, co-organizer and resident DJ at rural, the foundation of Japan's techno roots go back to Yellow Magic Orchestra (YMO), an electronic band formed in 1978 by now-legendary artists Haruomi Hosono, Yukihiro Takahashi and Ryuichi Sakamoto.
'YMO expanded the possibilities of electronic music and influenced the foundation of Japan's techno culture,' Hisatsune says. 'In the '80s and '90s, there was simply no way around them.'
Around that time, artists such as DJ Shufflemaster, Fumiya Tanaka and Ken Ishii were among the first to cultivate Japan's techno scene, with Tokyo as its epicenter. Wata Igarashi, now a globally touring DJ and producer himself, frequented a club called Maniac Love, where many of these artists hosted their own nights. They also booked top international acts from cities with more established techno scenes such as Berlin and Detroit.
Ken Ishii was a major figure in the creation of Japan's techno scene.
'The music I heard there was so futuristic, loopy and psychedelic — it struck a chord with me instantly,' Igarashi says.
One of Maniac Love's regular nights, Sublime, led to the creation of a record label of the same name in 1994. Over the next decade, Sublime helped launch the careers of Japanese producers like Ishii, Susumu Yokota and Rei Harakami.
That weekly event inspired a record label of the same name, launched in 1994.
'Sublime aimed to be Japan's first international techno imprint — and it succeeded,' Ishii says. 'For artists like me, embracing futurism and technology was key. It set us apart from overseas productions.'
Hypnotic, experimental and nature-infused
Japan's electronic music scene has long thrived on a 'less-is-more' philosophy — restrained, hypnotic and deeply textured. This restraint distinguishes the country's sound from the rest of the world. In comparison, Detroit is known for its raw production techniques and dramatic chord lines, while the Berlin sound traditionally explored the more monotone and edgier flavors of techno.
Igarashi relates the Japanese ethos to the widespread phenomenon of 'ma,' or the concept of negative space in art.
'It's the void between things that matters to us — and that goes for techno music, too,' he says. 'It's not about putting in as many elements as possible, but it's about the space in between the notes that makes techno complete here.'
Hisatsune agrees. 'Japanese techno blends delicate sensibilities with experimentation,' he says. 'The sound leans inward, reflecting our island mentality. That's why psychedelic, immersive music feels so natural here.' Notable examples of artists that adhere to this idea include DJ Yazi, Shinichi Atobe and Takaaki Itoh.
Producer and DJ Wata Igarashi attributes Japanese techno's uniqueness to a cultural concept called "ma."
Igarashi also attributes this mentality to Japan's connection with nature.
'There's an appreciation for life's deeper aspects that's uniquely Japanese,' he says. 'Respect for nature is part of that ethos. Many traditional outdoor festivals blend electronic music with natural settings, creating something transcendent. In these outdoor settings, deep and subtle techno music just works perfectly. Dancing to hypnotic sounds in a forest is pure magic.'
According to Ishii, Japanese artists also obsess more over details. 'It's simply in our nature,' he says. 'That precision carries into the music we make.'
For Yu Asaeda, better known as the DJ and producer Ena, experimentation is another hallmark of Japanese techno.
'Techno has always been more than four-to-the-floor rhythms; it's any dance music that leverages technology creatively. Innovation defines it,' he says. 'In Japan, scenes like noise, drum and bass, and techno overlap heavily. That cross-pollination breeds innovation, and fans are more open to experimentation — even on the dance floor. I really love that.'
The future looks bright — and deep
What's next for Japanese techno? While techno is still considered an underground phenomenon, its popular appeal in more recent times has changed its image. Events like Future Terror (DJ Nobu's irregularly held party, spanning venues in and outside Japan) draw devoted crowds. Meanwhile, outdoor festivals like Labyrinth, Moment and rural spotlight cutting-edge electronic music from Japan and beyond.
Yet, the meaning and value of techno hasn't changed much for scene veterans like Hisatsune, who has been organizing rural alongside Atsushi Maeda, Yukiko Matsuo and Ami Tsunoda since 2009.
'For me, techno is more than just music,' he says. 'It's something that opens up new ways of thinking and feeling, outside of established values or societal frameworks. It carries an intellectual and futuristic quality, with a kind of psychedelic immersion that allows me to explore my inner world and senses more deeply.'
Many Japanese DJs don't head outside of the country too often, which allows them to formulate ideas relatively free of outside influences. |
YUMIYA SAIKI
For Igarashi, techno is a cathartic journey.
'When done right, it's about losing yourself — escaping everyday problems,' he says. 'It can be emotional or euphoric. With my music, I want others to feel that too.'
Igarashi sees lots of talent across a new generation of DJs.
'Most Japanese don't head out of the country much, so a lot of DJs only play in Japan and don't get influenced by others, which results in very significant musical styles,' he says. 'I'm thinking of artists such as DJ Maria., Haruka and Occa. Lots of the music they play comes from overseas. But it's the way they piece these tracks together that makes it special. It's always deep.'
Asaeda sees more positive indicators about the current Japanese techno scene, too.
'At a recent Tokyo gig, the crowd was mostly in their early 20s, yet they embraced my experimental sound,' he says. 'That open-mindedness to experience music beyond your comfort zone is a healthy approach — and it's a good sign for the music scene here in Japan.'
