Fuji Rock Festival Review: A Big Spectacle, And An Even Bigger Beast To Conquer
Titanic festivals scare me. Ask me a decade ago, and I would’ve easily agreed to follow you to Glastonbury or Coachella in a heartbeat. Call it fatigue, logistical inertia or crowd anxiety, but they just don’t appeal to me anymore now that I’m in my 30s. Smaller festivals like Organik in Taiwan or The Great Wall Festival in China are more my tempo.
Because of this, you could call my decision to book my Fuji Rock Festival tickets an impulsive one. Perhaps it was this year’s booking of The Cure, The Chemical Brothers and Takkyu Ishino that enticed me. Or that I couldn’t stay far away from my beloved Japan. Or that I simply needed to understand why critics would dub this event the “Glastonbury of Asia”. It’s a lofty title, indeed. But after I stepped out of my comfort zone to check it out myself, I fully understand the association.
I’m gonna start with this and tell you that Fuji Rock, located at Naeba Ski Resort in Niigata, is a huge festival. By huge, I mean over 15 stages, with some requiring a 20-minute or half-an-hour walk in between. Some are hidden in tents, others sheathed within forests, and there’s even one literally concealed in the mountains which requires a gondola ride away from the main festival hubbub.
I can’t emphasise enough how important it is to get trusty, seasoned shoes or boots. There will be a lot of walking, albeit through picturesque routes that distract the senses like a nature-enriched playbook. Oh, and make sure you’re packing rain gear too.
In 2020, Fuji Rock is moving its date one month later to August for the first time in many years. Why? Because typically, Fuji Rock gets hit by a barrage of torrential rain around its usual month of July. I had the luck of enduring this first-hand, and it wasn’t just a standard scenario of cats and dogs.
Halfway through the festival, we received an update that we were to be bombarded with Typhoon #6 (Nari) that’d landed in the prefecture. Although this was later downgraded to a tropical cyclone, we were still assaulted by endless hours of vicious rain for days on end. It wasn’t uncommon to find tents in the camping area submerged by the end of the ordeal.
The calm before the storm… literally
But hey, if you love the vehemence of Mother Nature, then soak it all up, I say! Festivals are never a walk in the park, but Fuji Rock has enough charm and entertainment to reverse any case of parade-dampening and spirit-drowning. After all, Fuji Rock 2019 still managed to draw a whopping crowd of 130,000. And when you have a throng of that magnitude, you can’t not call it a party.
Due to this, it’s a godsend that the stages of Fuji Rock are so scattered, dissecting the crowds into staggered timetables. Like most festivals, one key rule rings true here: you will not catch everyone you want to see, no matter how hard you try. While I was gutted from missing Toro Y Moi, Mitski and my teenhood heroes, Asian Kung-Fu Generation, I was over the moon as I stumbled upon unfamiliar talents and accidental finds.
Salam Unagami at the Blue Galaxy stage
For instance, I didn’t realise that I would find Japanese dance stalwart, Sugiurumn, and city pop churner, Night Tempo, spinning at the dance-inclined Gan-Ban square. Nor did I expect to be walloped by rolling drum & bass in the Blue Galaxy tented pavilion.
*omnomnom*
The Gan-Ban Square and Blue Galaxy stages reside within the Oasis, which is what I identify as the first major meeting point of Fuji Rock, yet another 20-minute walk from the campsite (tickets for camping are separate from the festival). It is here where you’ll also find the colossal Red Marquee stage, which distinctively became a place of solace for those fleeing the storm.
Punters who planted themselves here were treated to the shimmering, guitar-rich indie-pop of ALVVAYS, and the blistering, swaggery post-punk of Shame. The Red Marquee was also where Takkyu Ishino, who stepped in following the drug-related pull-out of Denki Groove, gave the festival a fitting farewell. After hours of booming and synth-peppered techno, Ishino whipped out the Denki Groove anthem, “Niji”, as a montage of footage taken at the festival played behind him – one last “Thank you” to the attendees who stayed and conquered the storm. It was tear-jerking.
Now, remember the hidden stages I mentioned? To get to one of them, you need to spot a small booth just across the Red Marquee, selling gondola tickets (1500 yen for a return trip) that give you access to what’s undeniably my favourite area in the entire festival, the Day Dreaming stage.
Located on the summit of a mountain, kilometres away from the main area, the vast Day Dreaming stage is a welcome respite from the cacophony and flocks of festival-goers below you. Open grass plains free up more space to chill with a chair and a craft beer, and there’s even a watchtower where you can score a sterling view.
The stage here is a must-visit for electronic music enthusiasts; Naoki Serizawa played a frolicsome tech-house and disco set, Nicola Cruz veered into downtempo and deep territory, and 7e stood out with exotic tribal textures and chunky grooves. I would’ve stayed here all day if I could, but you’re forced to catch the last gondola back down at 5pm.
7e gave me that electronic-spurred awakening I needed
Back on earth, one must re-orientate and acclimatise to the potpourri of stage choices. Follow the path inward and amble deeper into the festival, and you’ll eventually locate the Green Stage, the biggest stage with a capacity of 40,000.
So here’s another thing you need to know about the Fuji Rock crowd: sitting down is perfectly normal. Aside from wet weather equipment, you might also want to consider lugging along a foldable chair. No, you won’t be scorned as a party pooper. In fact, it’s a social norm amongst Fuji Rockers to casually watch a rock concert while sitting, not unlike a chilled-out affair at a sunset cinema. At the Green Stage, this sea of chairs is more evident than ever.
It’s an endearing phenomenon embraced by its mostly-obedient attendees, yet bizarre to witness when it’s being exhibited in the presence of headliners like The Cure and The Chemical Brothers. Of course, you had the frontline mosh pit and fervent rebels who chose to stand, and you’re not breaking any rules if you do. How else do you resist the jangly jubilance of “Friday I’m In Love” and spine-tingling romanticism of “Pictures Of You”? How do you keep it together when The Chemical Brothers segue from New Order’s “Temptation” into the chugging flamboyance of “Star Guitar”?
You don’t. You take it all in. And boy, was it sensational.
While the Green Stage also hosted other big acts like SIA, Jason Mraz and Japanese favourites, ELLEGARDEN, it wasn’t the only platform for these giants to shine. For more headliner action, you had to adjourn to the second-biggest outdoor stage of the festival, the White Stage, that fits approximately 15,000. But to get there, you have to walk down yet another lengthy but scenic route.
As you follow the congregation sauntering towards said destination with similar intent, you find yourself entering corridors cloistered beneath foliage, adored with alien-like balloons and technicolour bunting. There are plenty of midway oohs and aahs that make the otherwise arduous trudge more fascinating – a forest-hugged Kids Land where I’m mighty sure I spotted a lion-man teaching kiddos how to dance, a serene creek area where folks could gambol in the river, an outdoor cinema, a comedy act, and numerous food stalls with tantalising offerings.
The White Stage that awaits a few minutes down is not as enormous as the Green Stage, but it is still a phenom in itself. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard made their mark here with a prog-rock blitz, along with Tokyo rapper Kohh who gripped audiences with his street-savvy poetry. The White Stage also hosted performances from TYCHO, Thom Yorke, American Football and Death Cab For Cutie. Few moments are as magical as “Transatlanticism” in the rain.
One would think that the festival trail ends with one of its main stages, but that could not be further from the truth. There are at least four more secondary performance areas past the immensity of the White Stage, only discoverable via treks down scenic boardwalks and flora-sheltered paths.
Kiwi & The Papaya Mangoes were a standout act for me, playing colourful world music
The sustainable Gypsy Avalon stage is one of them, powered by bio-diesel and solar energy; even the beer here is organic. Intimate and unperturbed, Gypsy Avalon catered to unorthodox local acts such as Kiwi & The Papaya Mangoes, playing borderless world music embellished with instruments like the Japanese koto and Brazilian drums. VenueVincent, too, challenged conventions by using the clicking footwork of a tap-dancer as percussion. Truly, it was impossible not to fall under the spell of this far-flung hideaway.
Wander deeper into the woods down the boardwalk, however, and you’ll eventually end up in the reverie-conjuring Field Of Heaven, a 5000-capacity performance area surrounded by a snug ring of trees; a pocket of paradise that feels like a world of its own. Lining its perimeter are rows of stalls selling festival-ready threads and other enchanting knick-knacks that make great souvenirs. Soundtracks in this sanctuary included the emotive post-rock of toe, and the folk musings of The Lumineers.
Surely, that must be the end of the trail? Not just yet. If you’re not knackered (and a tad peckish) at this point, soldier on till you arrive at the Orange Café where you’ll find a sheltered area of gourmet food stalls and gigantic installations, alongside a bevy of local bands. Further down, the Moulin Rouge-inspired Café de Paris with burlesque shows and other flashy forms of entertainment. One night, there was even an All-Night Fuji pop-up stage lurking at the edge of the festival, with techno rolling past 5am. Even I was too exhausted to make that expedition.
Finally, Fuji Rock has a way of giving you a second wind even when you’re zonked and lumbering back to your tent. Perking stragglers up was the nocturnal Palace Of Wonder, situated all-too-conveniently along the path between the festival and the campsite. Like a dystopian carnival, the area displays avant-garde sculptures made of discarded steel and other repurposed materials. Within, three stages (and a secret sake bar-slash-club) can be found here: Rookie A Go-Go featuring emerging bands selected via auditions, the Art Deco-inspired Crystal Palace, and another unnamed tent where I found jolly streams of house and disco. In other words, anything can happen at the Palace Of Wonder. And if you need one last perk-me-up before calling it a night (or early morning), it is the place to check out.
If you’ve reached this far, kudos to you and your curiosity in this massive festival. Even without the semi-typhoon that befell us, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the scale of this event, with its never-ending distances and dizzying myriad of stages (I couldn’t even list all of them in this review). Truth be told, I’m convinced even further that big festivals are not my thing, after this Fuji Rock pilgrimage.
Beasts, however, can be tamed. Qualms can be assuaged. And while I’m still in the process of nursing my blisters, part of me is seriously considering on doing this all over again. You can’t complete all of Fuji Rock in one visit, and you’re not supposed to. It lures with revisits, and quite frankly, the temptation is palpable. Now that I know what to expect, the notion of conquering Fuji Rock is much more conceivable.
I’ve done it once now. The next time, it’ll be even better.
How I got to Fuji Rock Festival
From Tokyo Station, take the shinkansen (75-minute train ride) to Echigo-Yuzawa Station. From there, a shuttle bus (500 yen, 40-minute ride) takes you directly to the festival grounds. Arriving one day before the festival at 2pm, I still had to wait almost two hours just to board the shuttle bus. If you wish to book a good spot at the campsite, I suggest arriving even earlier. The walk from the shuttle bus station to the festival is about 10 minutes.
For your return journey, my suggestion is to catch the shuttle bus at dawn after the last day. The first shuttle bus to Echigo-Yuzawa Station begins at 5.30am. You can also take a taxi to the station to avoid the queue, which costs approximately 7,000 yen. Good luck!
For more information on Fuji Rock Festival, visit its official website.
