… and yet delightfully familial and homely. If Japan is already something of a parallel universe, then jazz kissas are a microcosm within a microcosm. In the “Jazz Nutty” I had a chance to learn how to get in tune with like-minded people without words, only through music.
“No talking, please”, says a note on the outside of the entrance door, as if the request was not only addressed to the guests, but to anyone who happens to be within ‘disturbance range’ of the tiny venue – those who frequent this place take their listening pleasure seriously. The expectation of quiet doesn’t even seem unreasonable given the surroundings – even though the Jazz Nutty is formally located in Tokyo’s Shinjuku district, it is a good distance away from its bustling, noisy, neon-lit heart – the area around the listening café is actually surprisingly tranquil, considering that we are still in the middle of the world’s largest metropolitan area.
The first thing that strikes you on entering is just how tiny the place is: it could probably seat some two dozen guests; the fact that the half-dozen currently present doesn’t make the place seem empty may be down to the sheer presence of the two JBL 4331 B, taking up what feels like 20 percent of the room’s cubic volume. The mighty monitors are positioned quite close to the corners on either side of the entrance corridor; the “sloping roof” segments behind them are an architectural curiosity, given that we are on the ground floor.
From the bar, the owner gives me a greeting nod, invitingly gestures me to take any seat I like and, smiling yet wordlessly, hands me a menu. Apart from the most common coffee and tea variations and various alcoholic beverages, it only lists three snacks: nuts, cheese or chocolate. I point at my choice of snack to place my order and instantly regret my lack of foresight: I’ve picked the first option – which, of course, is the noisiest – to accompany my coffee. Well … if it’s on the menu, I guess it should be fine (or was this a test?).
What can you do – I lean back in my café chair and let myself drift away into the listening experience, gingerly crunching away at my almonds and cashews. The acoustics work astoundingly well, the diagonal behind the speakers actually seems to do more good than harm, allowing the vintage loudspeakers to throw a very respectable sound stage into the room that’s not just wide, but above all unexpectedly deep. The bass is full-bodied, but nicely defined and dry.
Tucked away into the side of the counter, the hi-fi electronics are housed in a waist-high shelf. The dramatically sagging shelves are being weighed down mainly by a McIntosh pre/power amplifier combination, which provides the JBLs with appropriate juice. The confined space necessitates an “active cooling system” in the form of a fan positioned in front of the rack – high-end listeners will baulk at this sight, but the moment the music rolls through the room, there is fortunately not the proverbial whiff of the fan to be heard. Most of the time, a Technics SL-1200 serves as source, but two Marantz silver disc spinners make it clear that this place doesn’t limit music enjoyment to the analog domain.
Incidentally, if the vow of silence makes you think that the atmosphere might be on the chilly side, you could hardly be further off the mark – everyone here is immersed in the music with a peculiar kind of relaxed focus, and yet somehow there’s an aura of togetherness in the air. A group of three at the table opposite me are silently gathering impressions that can still be discussed after the event, and even though most of the tables are only occupied by individual guests, their eyes wander around the room between the pieces, and with smiling nods they let the owner and each other know that they particularly enjoyed that last track. A perhaps 25-year-old guest at the table to my left enthusiastically vibes along to most of the tracks while browsing through a pile of apparently freshly thrifted vinyl trophies, occasionally holding one or two out to the host, who acknowledges this with a mimed exclamation of astonishment and appreciation.
The record change then opens up a window of opportunity for a chat sprint with my table neighbor; I quickly learn to interrupt the conversation mid-sentence, seamlessly picking it up again at the end of the record. Finally, Jazz Nutty’s opening time is drawing to a close and the rows are thinning out. In the now almost empty restaurant, the ban on talking gradually fades away, giving me the opportunity – as far as the language barrier permits – to have a little chat with the owner, who introduces himself as Ichiro Aoki and encourages me to change my table and move so that I can experience the acoustics in the sweet spot. After asking about my background, he even puts on a recording of a Frankfurt concert by Lee Konitz and Frank Wunsch, just for me.
Aoki-san opened the Jazz Nutty 16 years ago together with his wife. What he did before that? He ran a flower store together with his wife – not necessarily the answer I would have expected, but it makes sense: the two of them obviously appreciate the finer things in life. Of course, Aoki-san hasn’t been an audiophile since yesterday: the sound system is a representative sample of the components he has accumulated over the years and which have proper room to breathe here – much unlike in the typical Tokyo living situation. In a way, you could say he has set up his listening room here, avoiding pesky discussions with his neighbors – and as a bonus, his hobby pays for itself. That’s how it’s done.
Jazz Nutty
1 Chome-17-4 Nishiwaseda
Shinjuku City
Tokyo 169-0051
Japan
Opening Hours
Monday: 11 a.m. – 7 p.m.
Wednesday – Friday: 11 a.m. – 7 p.m.
Saturday, Sunday: 11 a.m. – 6 p.m.
Closed on Tuesday