"The Album That Matsuyama's Guitar Master Has Been Listening to for 70 Years" — Fumio Takeichi
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Matsuyama City, Ehime Prefecture. In my hometown, there's a friend who has been playing guitar unchanged all these years.
Nicknamed "Ittsuan" — Fumio Takeichi. House band member at go-go café "Ginran," disco "Satchmo House," and "Chester Barry." He worked as a guitar instructor while adjusting instruments at "LEAD Instruments Matsuyama Ekimae Store," and now continues teaching independently with private lessons (at studios and home visits).
He's someone who has lived 70 years through music alone.
He can play anything — rock, blues, jazz, pop. His advice is precise, and though he uses few words, he always hits the core. When I asked such a person about his most cherished album, the answer wasn't rock.
An album where the jazz guitar master played the Aranjuez Concerto with his companions.
Immersed in Western Music Since Childhood
Ittsuan is now over 70.
"I was immersed in Western music from the time I became aware" — He encountered the Beatles at the end of elementary school, then The Ventures, and during high school, he was obsessed with Jimi Hendrix, Cream, Led Zeppelin, Purple, and King Crimson.
It was the quintessential youth of a Japanese boy drowning in rock music of that era.
Picking up an electric guitar, tracing chords, copying phrases, forming bands with friends. His room was stacked with records, and nights were spent headbanging with headphones on — those were probably his days.
Niihama, Killing Time Until Evening
After high school, there was a period when he lived in Niihama for almost a year, working with bands.
The live house and club work was at night. The daytime was free.
"Since I was free until evening, I wandered around the city looking for coffee shops and found one that was clearly run by a housewife? As an extension of her hobby?"
A small, privately-owned coffee shop that exists in every regional city across the country. Hand-written signage, a bell that rings when you push the door, and a slightly older woman standing behind the counter — that kind of place. A 23-year-old rock boy casually walked in.
What was playing was the Aranjuez Concerto.
Terry Herman Trio, Piano-Only Version
What was playing was the Aranjuez by a piano trio called the Terry Herman Trio.
"Piano only, somewhat annoying in the latter half? But I was drawn to the melody and composition"
The second movement of a guitar concerto written by Spanish composer Rodrigo. Originally a work for orchestra and classical guitar. A piano trio was playing it in a "somewhat annoying" arrangement.
But Ittsuan's ears were pierced by the melody and composition.
A 23-year-old who came to Niihama as an extension of his rock-immersed high school and college years, captivated by a piano version of Aranjuez in a coffee shop run by a housewife. Life really takes unexpected turns.
Back in Matsuyama, This Was All I Could Find
After finishing work in Niihama, he returned to Matsuyama.
He wanted to hear that song again. He searched for a Terry Herman Trio record.
However, they were too minor and weren't available at any record store in Matsuyama.
What he found was this album. Jim Hall 'Concierto' — CTI label, 1975.
An album where the jazz guitar master recorded the same Aranjuez Concerto with first-class members: Chet Baker, Paul Desmond, Ron Carter, Steve Gadd, and Roland Hanna.
The Quietude That Pierced a Rock Boy's Heart
"The drummer is a young Steve Gadd 😁"
Ittsuan's words casually mention the drummer. When a guitar player mentions a drummer's name first, it's the habit of someone who listens to the ensemble.
The Aranjuez Concerto on Concierto is a long performance that uses the entire A-side. Arranged by Don Sebesky, the theme slowly emerges, members enter one by one, and eventually everyone weaves together. There are hardly any flashy solos. Rather, it's jazz that speaks through space and restraint.
Jim Hall was a guitarist who paid tremendous attention to each note. Where to play and where not to play. The moment to step forward and the moment to yield to companions. His judgment in this was beautiful.
This "pinnacle of quietude" resonated with the 23-year-old's rock-saturated ears. Interesting. The moment when ears accustomed to distorted guitars daily were drawn to clean tones without distortion. Probably Ittsuan opened another door to music in that Niihama coffee shop.
47 Years of Listening to the Same Album
"Well, I started listening to this when I was 23, during my rock-only period, but I was completely hooked and here I am now w"
Even now, past 70, he still plays Jim Hall's Concierto.
"Of course, I've continued owning it from record to CD"
From record to CD. Even as the format changed, he continued owning the same album. In an era where you can just listen on streaming services, there are still people who truly love music and want to hold that jacket, place the needle / insert the disc — they want to keep the entire ritual.
"When I play this, I still have the same special feelings w"
47 years of listening to the same song, and the special feelings haven't faded.
I think it's because this album continues to hold the memory of that 23-year-old in the Niihama coffee shop.
Ittsuan's Journey
Ittsuan has lived through music alone in Matsuyama.
- Go-go café "Ginran"
- Disco "Satchmo House"
- "Chester Barry" house band
- "LEAD Instruments Matsuyama Ekimae Store" for instrument adjustment & guitar instruction
- Currently independent with private instruction (studio and home visits)
He's someone who continued music locally without going to Tokyo or aiming for stardom.
Teaching guitar to students, fixing instruments, creating nighttime atmosphere with house bands, and still making house calls to individual homes and studios for instruction. Those who understand know how difficult it is to continue music as a "livelihood". It's not flashy. But people like Ittsuan have supported the foundation for young music lovers in Matsuyama to grow for 70 years.
Just as Jim Hall was a guitarist who "spoke through space and restraint," Ittsuan has been someone who supported the larger musical landscape through the quiet choice of "continuing locally."
That's why he chooses Concierto. Maybe that's what it is.
Editor's Note
To me (Namio), Ittsuan is a respected friend from my hometown.
Born and raised in Matsuyama, during my twenties spent immersed in music, Ittsuan was there as a local guitar-playing senior. Slightly older, skilled for sure, but never arrogant. Gentle even when correcting, embarrassed when praised — that kind of person.
There's an unforgettable night.
It was a memorial service for our most respected mutual friend, Hayashi-san. I participated as a performer, and Ittsuan handled the PA (sound).
During rehearsal, I was told "Namio, the sound is too loud." I was told this several times. I adjusted. During the actual performance, I played while being a bit conscious of this.
After the memorial service ended, Ittsuan quietly said to me:
"Namio, that was good. I think Hayashi-san would be happy."
That one line is unforgettable.
While cautioning "the sound is too loud," he said that to me at the end. Such a gentle person. At a place to send off Hayashi-san, he comforted me as a performer and turned his gaze to Hayashi-san's joy — that's the kind of warmth he has.
I feel the same warmth flowing in Jim Hall's Concierto that he wrote about in this column. Sound that speaks through space and restraint, sound that's not too loud, sound that cares for companions. That's probably why Ittsuan still loves listening to it past 70.
A friend in Matsuyama who continues music unchanged. I hope he stays healthy and keeps playing forever.
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