EVERY MORNING, suburban trains in western Tokyo ferry the dark-blue army that keeps this Asian superpower humming. As the carriages fill, silence descends, punctuated only by the rustle of newspapers and the odd winter cough. In the few spare seats, salarymen and office ladies doze as the announcer, voice tuned down to the morning hush, reels off the stations.
The reverie is broken by a young man who sits legs spread wide, eyes glued to his mobile phone, the hiss and pop of his iPod leaking rap music from his earphones; oblivious to the irritated sideward glances of his fellow passengers. Dressed in the international hip-hop uniform of baggy clothes, white sneakers and back-to-front baseball cap, he looks as out of place as jeans at a wedding.
The surly Japanese rap fan is growing increasingly common here as hip-hop culture goes from underground to mainstream. The mix of dance beats, rapping and attitude has slowly seeped into Japanese culture and the country's biggest acts - Dragon Ash, Zeebra, K Dub Shine, Mabo and Rip Slyme - now sell millions of discs between them. The second best-selling artist for 2005 in the Japanese pop charts was a rap/hip-hop act, Ketsumeishi, according to Orico Japan, and Japanese hip-hop has sprung up its own group of fashionistas, such as Jun Takashi and Nigo, who have become stars in their own right (Nigo's label A Bathing Ape supplies clothing and accessories to the Beastie Boys and Beyonce). Japanese hip-hop recently won the ultimate badge of mainstream credibility when the country's biggest car manufacturer, Toyota, used a Rip Slyme song in its commercial.
'Hip-hop is huge here right now,' says Jennifer Hodgins, international director of licensing company JMS Corporation, which represents Street Wars, a hip-hop-inspired fashion label. 'One sign of how big it is is how teen idols have started to incorporate it into their music. Even the princess of J-pop Namie Amuro.'
Japan has a long tradition of aping musical styles pioneered in the west, particularly the US, but many are surprised by how enthusiastically the country's fickle young people have embraced a culture radically different to their own.
'You have probably the most fluent, eclectic youth culture in the world here, and it takes to its heart the music of poor people from the Bronx,' says Kyle Cleveland, who teaches sociology at Temple University, Tokyo. 'There is a huge cultural gap there, bridged by aggression, sexuality and confidence.'
