Screaming from the Underground--Michiro Endo and "The Stalin" on the rebellious stage in the early 1980s
In the early 1980s, Japan was still reeling from the afterglow of its rapid economic growth and was beginning to show signs of a bubble economy. Television had become the "center of the TV room," and bright, glamorous pop music and idol culture were sweeping the country, A distinctly different atmosphere was stirring in the small live houses of Shinjuku Loft, Shimokitazawa, and Shibuya Attic.
The Stalin, led by Michiro Endo, was at the center of this vortex of heresy. The stage was splattered with blood, saliva, and visceral red paint. Performances that did not hesitate to throw chicken, defecate, or even vomit--they were the opposite of the TV era and commercialism of the time, and were art that expressed itself through the body itself.
When he said, "It hurts to throw up and throw up," there was an earnest "reality" behind his words. It was an act not to surprise the audience, but to "feel" that he was alive. What this statement symbolizes is the "underground spirit" that treads the borderline between self-destruction and creation.
Michiro was originally from Sukagawa City in Fukushima Prefecture in the Tohoku region. As a native of a rural area, he has always had a sense of foreignness and discomfort with the huge consumer city of Tokyo. This is summed up in the images of "dirty city" and "corrupt system" that repeatedly appear in his lyrics and statements. His performances, which sometimes seemed excessive, confronted us with "reality that cannot be neatly dismissed" in the language of his body and blood.
Politically, for young people who had finally found their own means of expression after the "lethargic 70s" following the defeat of the student movement, Stalin was a figure who reintroduced the "value of shouting loudly.
At this time, Japanese punk was not yet a major player and media exposure was limited, but bands like these represented the emotions, anger, and alienation that were stirring in the urban underworld. That is why their single statement, "Doing it is my expression," goes beyond challenging one's own artistry and the market, and is imbued with a defiance of the times themselves.
In later years, Endo also stated, "It was more of a natural expression of emotion for me, rather than something radical. In other words, "underground" was not a sensibility that was out of step with the world, but rather a sharply honed sensibility that struck out at a world that had become insensitive to it.
Michiro Endo's expression was very solitary in Japan at that time, but it certainly struck a chord with someone. His words that this was his "expression" and "realization of being alive" still carry a weight that resonates at the intersection of rebellion and art.
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