Salaryman - Salaryman (1997)
The humble salaryman finds his appreciation in the Chicago post-rock scene.
Copenhagen is my local airport. From Melbourne I fly into Kastrup, go down the escalator to the train station, and catch a train across the Øresund Bridge into Sweden. No need to change trains, as there are three routes that service southern Sweden from Copenhagen. I jump on the train to Karlskrona, which goes through Kristianstad – where I have spent half my year since 2022. It’s all very easy and convenient – the wonders of borderless travel and societies that privilege public transport.
When I’m not catching trains or ferries around Europe then Kastrup is also my airport for popping around to its various cities. As I love to be on the move – and for an Australian there’s still the novelty of international flights not being day-long events – I suspect I may now be close to spending more time at Kastrup than Tullamarine.
Due to this there are little things I notice each time I pass through. Towards the gates that service most European cities there is a ramen shop. And at this shop there is almost always a pair of salarymen. Crouched over their noodles, with a can of Sapporo or Asahi in hand. Not the same salarymen every time. Just salarymen. Waiting patiently for their next flight.
The salaryman achieved his peak during Japan’s post-war boom and in particular during the 1980s and early-1990s – where almost every new piece of technology that entered into the family home was Japanese. He represented the ethos of Japan’s extraordinary economic ascent, which led to the cultural reach that Japan gained as a result.
The salaryman is the loyal and dedicated white collar businessman, working long hours and prioritising his company’s interests over his own – especially his family. Oftentimes he could seem bland and robotic, interchangeable with the next salaryman. Much of Haruki Murakami’s work is driven by characters seeking to break the salaryman mould. To find something in life more meaningful, or fantastical.
Despite having lost his cultural ubiquity as Japan’s relative economic strength has weakened, the salaryman is still fanning out across Europe. Occasionally you’ll find yourself next to them (they travel in pairs) on a flight as they move between meetings. Their work is tireless and thankless. So even short trips are an opportunity to nap. Your shoulder may find itself used in service of their manufacturing works or heavy industry concern.
Salaryman, the band, were not Japanese. But in many ways their music – and that of the Chicago “post-rock” scene that birthed them – was a product of the world Japan created. In the late-1990s, Japan was still considered the futureworld, and many of these bands were trying to soundtrack this future. Some more literally than others.
In their music you can hear the complex patterns of the Tokyo Subway, or the locked-in, rhythmic hum of the Shinkansen. Drawing from dub, krautrock, prog rock, jazz and electronic experimentation, the objective was to create textures and timbres that reflected a palette of humanity, and both its creation of – and interaction with – the modern world. Sometimes dark, sometimes beautiful. Often subtle, occasionally not.
While variants of post-rock would embrace the lushness of the natural environment, from its centres in Chicago and Montreal, the genre would be both urban, and urbane. To these artists, the city was a style of living and way of thinking. They recognised the city as humanity’s hub of creativity, where opportunity and advantage lay, where ideas and culture are born and cross-pollinate. To be on foot in the city is to feel its vim and vigour. The 20th Century was humanity’s urban century, with around 16% of people living in cities at its beginning, to around half of people by its conclusion. This triumph required a soundtrack.
The salaryman would, of course, be nothing without Tokyo or Osaka. Few societies have taken advantage of this movement of people to cities as Japan. With its remarkable period of economic growth following World War II driven by its rapid urbanisation. While the titans of its technological advancement may have been so influential to have been afforded their own kami – or force of nature – within Shinto, it has been the salaryman who has been the executor of this spirit. The man who worked the details, made the practical arrangements, for little acclaim and acknowledgement.
In that way, the name of Salaryman the band demonstrates their kinship. Not only through the urbanism that drives their respective work, but due to an under-appreciation of their efforts. Salaryman never gained the critical plaudits or achieved the public reach of contemporaries like Tortoise. But they worked the details, moved the needle forward a little, and were an important part of the expression of their surrounds.