Make Believe Bonus: The Ghosts Of Trump Room
You Don't Need This Many Mirrors
A familiar dread ran through my body Saturday night as I descended a staircase leading to pure garishness. I should have known well before I started my expedition — tucked away in a corner of Shibuya behind the Keio trainstation is a row of sloppy izakaya and bars, broken up by some convenience stores. Yet one entryway looked different — standing out from the scuzz around it, a débutante in a sea of drunks.
Down I went…memories of another venue purportedly existing for “music” in the neighborhood flashing before me.