The fan and the idol (in Japan)

On Wednesday, more than 2,000 people milled outside the famous ZEPP Tokyo Livehouse. Sweaty hands clutched glowsticks; faces were flushed in anticipation. There was only an hour to go until the start of Rib.on.”e” — that is, the concert/release party for Rib’s new album, released hardly a month ago.

Of course, Japanese parents don’t actually go around naming their children after tasty bits of steak. Rib is an online username, a persona featured on the site Niconico Douga — which I like to liken to Japanese Youtube. Similar to their counterparts in the States, young Japanese spend their time sauntering about the Internet, periodically choosing, from within their midst, a few talented souls to launch into stardom.

And what a star Rib has become. ZEPP Tokyo, which is by no means a small, was near to bursting.

I sent a strained smile and a weak joke over to my friend, “This is just as bad as the Yamanote Line rush hour. Except instead of being crushed to death by salarymen, I’m being smothered by JK.” (The Yamanote Line, by the way, is arguably the most important local train line, which circles the heart of Tokyo. JK is a slang term, which in Japanese, doesn’t mean “just kidding,” but rather “joushi-kousei,” or high school girl.)

I had to pause, then, as the girl in front of me was pressed so close that loose strands of her hair were getting into my mouth. I remember that by the end of the live, I was patting down and grooming her hair for her, just so it wouldn’t get in my face.

When the lights finally went out, the crowd swelled up in anticipation, literally. Girls were standing on their toes; hairs were standing on their ends. Finally, the curtain fell down and there was Rib, crooning his soul into a microphone. It was the first time I’ve seen his face, as, unlike most Youtube stars, “NicoDou” singers guard their identities with their lives. He had a smile that stretched to the ends of his high cheekbones. I’d never seen someone look so blissful while singing

Time, of course, flew by — a hodgepodge of songs and MC’s. Rib was talented, charming, and funny. He was awed by the number of people who gathered for him, at times joking (“I feel like I could walk on top of the audience — but that’d be rude, wouldn’t it?”), at times gaping in disbelief (“I keep asking myself — why me?”), and all the time, thanking his fans from the bottom of his heart — and his lacrimal glands. This humbleness, this consciousness of “normality,” I think, is what makes NicoDou singers so popular in Japan. For, over here, the trend is to blur the line between the star and the layperson. I remember one of my Japanese teachers mentioning that the reason the number one idol group, AKB48, is so popular, is because it is made up of “normal, high school girls.”

Watching Rib tear up for the third time, I could feel myself resonating with empathy, sympathy, a sense of connection. Here was a young man who loved music, uploaded a few covers onto the Internet, and now found himself standing on the stage of ZEPP Tokyo, in front of thousands of adoring fans.

“If I told my mother a few years ago I’d be holding my own one-man live at ZEPP,” he said, “she’d ask me if my head were screwed on right.” He paused, and then continued, “I want to keep trying hard. So all of you, too, try your best!”

Leave it to Rib, I thought to myself with a moved sniff, to not only make his live an amazing musical performance, but a source of inspiration as well.