Walking north along Kawaramachi St. towards Imadegawa St., you might not ever see my favorite noise club. Even if you happen to glance at the small plastic and metal “Socrates” sign on the sidewalk in front of the illuminated and ever-bustling Fresco supermarket, you're likely not much closer to noticing the entrance of the venue, a wide grey metal door at the bottom of a commodious and nondescript stairwell. The steepness and depth of the staircase is such that, from the street, it is nearly impossible to see the grey door; one must deliberately enter the building, walk to the head of the stairs, and gaze downward. If you are attentive and curious enough to find yourself at the bottom of this staircase, looking through the wide doorway, you'll be faced with a poster -lined hallway, at the end of which is the door to the music hall.
   The main room of the venue is very intimate – a full mixing console, two large powered speakers, a DJ/merchandise table, and a stage all fit into an approximately 25 m2 room that still accommodates a crowd. Quiet or more “experimental” nights might see single-digit audience members, but Socrates also hosts some big name acts (relatively speaking, of course) that easily command crowds of 50 or more. When this many heavy music enthusiasts are confined to such a small space, the energy level of the experience can be an impressive sight to behold. I once was particularly ill and attended a kamomekamome/F.I.B. concert, with no intentions to physically engage myself in the performance. After a few songs, which elicited wild responses from the other patrons, I was so psyched up that I couldn't help but throw my sick body into the fray of the mosh pit, with a big grin under my runny nose. It was actually while in this mosh pit that my research on the underground music scene in Kyoto took a turn towards questions pertaining to gender.
   As I was tossed about by the natural churning of the pit, I noticed that I was body -checking (incidentally, of course!) an unusually high number of females, in comparison to concerts of a similar nature I was used to attending in the US. A quick glance around the room confirmed my suspicions – there was absolutely a higher number of girls in the audience than there would have been at the same concert in the US. But why? Was this concert an outlier? How much of a role did the particular bands play in drawing this diverse crowd? In the months following that show, I attended similar concerts with the intent of answering these question and others.
   When it comes to the ‘amateur' or ‘underground' music scenes in Kyoto, the most surprising trend I have noticed is the rate of female participation in performance. Compared to similar subcultures and music scenes in which I've been involved in the US, there are proportionally far more women banging drums, slappin' bass, and shredding guitar in Kyoto. Although I still have a lot more empirical work to do, I would estimate that 20-40% of band members in these music circles are women, while most scenes in America probably see low single digit rates. Additionally, I have casually observed that between 70% and 85% of bands in the Kyoto scenes have at least one girl member. I think it says a lot that bands without a girl member are seemingly in the minority.
   As an avid participant in these kinds of music events, the gender trends are extremely interesting to me. The questions they can raise are equally compelling: does Japanese female youth culture have a fundamentally different outlook on styles of music that Americans might dismiss as too radical or less legitimate than other activities? How do the views of Japanese youth on other extra-curricular (e.g. symphony orchestra, soccer) compare to their views on participation in the underground music world, and how does this influence the participation rate of women? These are just two of the many inquiries that come up as I investigate these unique trends in Kyoto. Before arriving in Japan, I don't think I ever expected to become so interested in and involved with answering such questions, but I suppose I also never expected to stop at the top of an unremarkable staircase and explore the unusual world beyond the grey door at the bottom.