If Perfume hadn’t existed in this era, what would I have been watching?
In 2009, I was still a fledgling photographer. There were many artists I wanted to shoot, but Perfume stood apart. Back then—before they became a household name—they were often described as a “technopop idol unit.” Following a techno aesthetic, their branding evoked mannequins or androids, and yet, there was also A-chan, who would burst into tears at the drop of a hat.
Perfume appeared on the cover of the relaunched, rock-oriented magazine Ongaku to Hito. Why them? I think the editor-in-chief saw them as rock. It was about their way of life.
Being asked “Who do you want to shoot?” comes with the job—I’d been asked countless times. And every time, I answered: Perfume. That persistence eventually brought me this opportunity. Just before it, I had attended their first Budokan concerts—both days, practically at the very front. Then, suddenly, this unexpected turn. I still remember the thrill in my chest.
Having half a day for a shoot was rare then, and probably still is. With the promotion of “Dream Fighter” following Budokan, their stage rose rapidly. After this shoot came Yoyogi Gymnasium, then the Dome. I followed their live shows too.
But then came Tokyo Dome. I think I was around the ninth row. And when I got there, something inside me just snapped—I left after the fifth song. The reason was embarrassingly selfish: they were lip-syncing, even in the Dome. The Tokyo Dome I had dreamed of—couldn’t they sing live even in such a massive space? I couldn’t reconcile that gap in scale and expression. From that day on, I stopped talking about Perfume, and even stopped listening to others talk about them.
Looking back now, I think that was fine. Whether they were singing live or not—that probably wasn’t the point. They kept moving forward without wavering, while the times themselves changed dramatically. I think I just got swept along by that change.
When I heard they would pause activities after 25 years, I found myself, selfishly, breathing a sigh of relief. From domestic success to overseas expansion, and then toward more installation-like expressions—and what lies beyond that? How much will people continue to demand of Perfume? And how long will they continue performing? They are Perfume, but they also have lives as individuals.
That’s it—I wanted to see Perfume as people, as human beings. That was the concept behind this shoot. In everyday scenery and in the studio, I wanted to see them—and show them—as both Perfume and as individuals.
When the magazine was released, it stirred debate among fans. I remember feeling a little disappointed. But one comment said, “This approach is like Stravinsky.” In other words, it would take time for people to understand. It’s already been 15 years since then. Looking back at the photos now, their gaze almost seems as if they were looking far ahead—to today.
If Perfume hadn’t existed in this era, what would I have been watching?
Whatever the case, I’m truly glad I was born in the era of Perfume. I also learned so much from Yasutaka Nakata, who is of my generation. I only photographed them once—but maybe because it was only once, I keep replaying it over and over.
Repeating—this polyrhythm
That impulse felt just like love
Repeating—like someday before
That scene comes back to life
Repeating—this polyrhythm
That aftereffect feels like a lie
Repeating—this poly-loop
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