from June 28th 2025 for 1 month at BIE BOX the physical space of BIE in Beijing
Looking back at these images from the Tin Drum era, what do you remember most about that period—both musically and personally?
During the making of Tin Drum the band were creatively (as well as in terms of success), reaching its peak. We had an immense amount of freedom to pursue our own musical path, in fact we always did have, we were very fortunate in that area. But during this time, with our new record label claiming successful chart positions in the UK for the first time, we were seen to be leading an alternative path in the process of recording ‘pop’ music, against a backdrop of more typical formulas and styles. This was due to the fact that as musicians we felt driven to push our boundaries and explore, even to the point of undermining the accepted core music structures which define pop music, in order to present a work that could not easily be compared to anything else of that time. I feel we might have achieved that with Tin Drum, and the fact that the song ‘Ghosts’ reached our highest UK chart position is testament to how it’s possible to break through the wall of formulaic pop music to offer an alternative. I think that there is a certain level of confidence and self-belief in following this path, and it’s an example of how we, as individuals, matured from the 70s through to this peak period of the band. We marched on with little self-doubt regardless of how many set-backs or years it took us to break the UK market and beyond.
Our deep intent to explore musical boundaries was always the defining element of the group.
Was there a particular moment or story during the Tin Drum period that stands out to you as especially interesting or meaningful? What was your imagination of “the East” at that time? How did the China-related songs come about?
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An example that comes to mind is during the recording of ‘Visions of China’ at the studio in Regents Park, London which was in the basement of a disused church. This song wasn’t taking shape at first. We spent all day trying to determine an approach for the rhythm section. David had some chord changes and rough lyrics. Mick needed a break so decided to leave and ponder what to do for his bass part. I remained in the studio and explored various drum parts for the song. By the evening David had recorded a guide version of the song with just an acoustic guitar with a click track for me to work with, so no-one else had anything to do. I went over and over the
options for a number of hours. Eventually, sometime late into the night I can up with the pattern for the track and wanted to capture a good take. However, we had complaints from neighbouring
houses to stop the noise! So it had to wait until the following day. This was wholly unusual in a professional studio as they can be hired 24/7. But so be it. The next day I came in fresh and got the take. It was from there that Mick then worked on his baseline, and it was my turn to sit back and relax!
The interest in Chinese music was something that naturally developed during the early 80s. I remember how I would visit a Chinese percussion shop in London’s Soho district (and Chinatown)
called Ray Man and bought numerous items, from cymbals made in Wu Han, to small drums and hand percussion. Some of us also sought out various traditional Chinese music cassettes and vinyl
which I still have to this day. This would have been long before we started on the Tin Drum album, and was probably even before Gentlemen Take Polaroids.
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There were certain ‘fashion’ influences too. I used to make a point of visiting a Chinese retailer in Roppongi, Tokyo that sold traditional workwear such as jackets, shirts, caps and footwear. Again it was about exploring alternatives and being open-minded.
These photos also include images of YMO from around 1981. What was it like to be part of that era when electronic music was evolving so rapidly?
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It felt as though the UK music tech was somehow still in the dark ages compared to Japan in the early 80s. The use of sequencers and electronics seemed to take a huge leap forward thanks to the likes of Roland developing clever computing systems to allow keyboards to be played (prior to midi). This was essential to the sound of YMO. The use of triggering samples and sync code was also emerging and being incorporated into rhythm designs. Drum machines were already in vogue but they were so limiting.
All the JAPAN albums were made without any computers (aside from a Linn Drum Machine bass drum on one track). I later purchased the
Roland MC-4 and learnt how to program. It felt exciting to be able to manipulated and design parts rather than have to play everything physically. It opened up doors in composition and manipulating sounds.
Yukihiro Takahashi mixed his album ‘Neuromantic’ in the same UK studio that we were always working in, so I got to hear the final playback and was amazed at the production quality and audio
separation, as well as the intricacy and precision of the sequencers and rhythms. When he then asked me to be his drummer for his first solo tour after the separation of YMO, I was so excited
and challenged by the prospect.
Another aspect of the advancements in tech which was so far superior to anything I’d seen outside of Japan (and would continue to be for a number of years to come) was the live onstage
monitoring system. All musicians wearing headphones with individual, personal mixers and a click track that only we could hear. This seems basic now but in 1982 it was quite unheard of.
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I took a certain pride in meeting the demands of man vs machine and performing live without falling out of sync. No room for error. I still it.​​
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Many people might only know Japan’s music but not the behind-the-scenes moments. Can you share any stories or feelings that these photos bring back for you?
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Due to how we presented ourselves, most people thought we were taking ourselves too seriously or that we’d never be any fun, but quite the opposite was true - particularly with studio work. We had a great relationship and often our humour, (along with that of our preferred studio engineers / producers of that time), was somewhat dry and derisive towards one another. Making fun of poor performances or winding each another up for laughs.
Studio work is so insular and confined, you might love it or hate it. Personally I loved being in the studio. From the age of about 18 onwards it was a huge part of my everyday life for the next 8 years. I was in my comfort zone.
Touring was also something I enjoyed, mainly for the challenges of performing and the one-to-one experience of an audience showing appreciation for your work. I document both aspects in photographing our time together as a band, and I can see both sides of ourselves projected. Yes, there are many of the posing images because that’s how we learnt to be in the public gaze or
whenever a camera was pointed at us. It was important to try to look good and not waste everyone’s time. But also, some photographs capture or reflect the more human, candid side which wasn’t often seen due to most photographs being taken in formal settings. That said, we were quite a restrained set of individuals even at that young age. We were never loud or overly animated, and if any of us behaved like that, it would have been derisible to the others. So we were a subdued bunch.​
What do you hope people will take away from seeing these photos?
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I hope people see both the human vs professional sides of people in their element who do not shy away from the camera as it’s a natural part of their world through their work.
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For fans who are seeing your work for the first time, what would you like them to know about your approach to photography?
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​Most of my images are taken in natural light. I tend to prefer that as it captures more of the toneof the moment, whereas a flash will blast the perspective into a flatter layer. Having that depth offield speaks to me cinematically too. So, I think sometimes, at the expense of perhaps getting less sharp images in low-light situations, you gain the intimacy and voyeuristic elements of the moment by not using a flash.
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How does photography allow you to capture or express something different compared to music?
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I’ve seen a parallel in recording music and recording visuals. Both are documenting moments... events in time. Whether recording music or events we can express elements of ourselves in how that captured moment is presented. Pictures tell stories in the viewers imagination, in a similar way that music can, and whether listening to music or viewing a collection of images in an exhibition, both art forms are staged to create impressions and trigger emotions.
