If you like going out and partying at one of Saigon’s many colourful clubs, chances are you’ve bumped into Shuntaro. The self-proclaimed weekend night-butterfly is a mainstay in Saigon’s nightlife scene, and that’s how I came to meet him one blurry evening at a club this year. Given that he was with Dano, aka Mooseman that time, I knew he had some involvement in the DJ and clubbing culture of the city, but the fact was, I didn’t realise how deep that involvement went. When you talk about Shuntaro you’re talking about a guy whose influence extends beyond Saigon and touches the whole of Vietnam. It was fitting then that when we met, we headed to Roosters on Bùi Viện to chat over a few pints. For better or worse, so much starts and ends on the infamous Backpacker’s Street. That day was no different, carrying so much promise as the street slowly came alive: street vendors touting cigarettes, bar girls strutting past the litter in high heels, sound systems pumping Vina-House at max-volume. So Shuntaro and I said cheers. To another night. To all that have come before.
Shuntaro was born in Japan, in a prefecture just outside of Tokyo called Kanagawa. He was raised in a family of music lovers. His father was a CD collector with a boundless curiosity while his mother was an avid fan of classical music, jazz, and soul. Growing up in a household that was as in tune with the hippest new bands as it was with unknown avant-garde gems informed both Shuntaro and his younger brother’s passion for music (his brother currently plays ambient electronic guitar in a band called Tetote where his poet wife serves as the only other member). For the young Shuntaro, this upbringing was the perfect environment to discover his own tastes. It started with a lot of hip hop in the form of Guru’s Jazzmatazz and DJ Spinna, as well as reggae by KARAMUSHI and Lee Perry. It didn’t take long before he discovered—thanks to a YouTube recommendation—house and techno too. From there, punk, dubstep, and ambient music. Even as a teenager he never let himself get boxed into one category which made the perfect formula for an aspiring DJ but rather than go down that route, Shuntaro had other plans.
When he was eighteen, Shuntaro started getting heavily into clubbing. Of course, there was the music aspect to clubs that he couldn’t get enough of. Groovy, soulful house tracks. Loud, drumming techno beats. There was something primal about a club. Something unexplainable that from his first visit, grabbed a hold of Shuntaro and shook him all the way down to his bones, never letting go. Besides the music, however, Shuntaro simply wanted to go out and do what teenage boys do. In Japan it’s called nanpa, or, picking up girls. And so it began, something of a never-ending dance from one night to the next. He graduated high school, went to Meisei University to study education but really, he was more preoccupied with the nine pm to five am swirl of partying. He recalls how in the summertime, rather than concern himself with what he would do after he graduated, he’d head over to a popular beach called Enoshima with friends and hit the beach clubs. It was the life of someone who’s only real desire was to have a good time, and by all counts, he did.
Once Shuntaro graduated from university, reality hit. He needed a job. There was an opening at a burger shop called Jammi Jammi Burger in a street called Nakamise-dōri and given the history of the street itself, Shuntaro jumped at the opportunity. Nakamise-dōri was a bit of a wild, rough-and-tumble area in Machida, close to where Shuntaro grew up. The place was known for being a regular yakuza hangout, meaning fights broke out like clockwork. It even had a past as a place where criminals could run away from cops, with buildings connected by second-floor corridors used for quick getaways. Shuntaro found charm in the lawlessness and ended up staying at Jammi Jammi Burger for 6 years. Despite the yakuza, the regular brawls between drunks, and the tough work that eventually consumed all of Shuntaro’s time, he recounted the period with fondness. He even got to merge work with pleasure when Jammi Jammi started catering at clubs. Shuntaro would be there, amidst the strobe lights and masses of dancing Japanese, serving up burgers to satiate their drunken hunger. Soon, however, a change of scenery. He was older and wanted to get out of Japan. He wanted a new adventure.
Hearing Shuntaro put it, he didn’t necessarily find his work as a tour guide. He called it goen, which is a Japanese term that refers to one’s destiny or fate. After he left Jammi Jammi Burgers, he took on a variety of job interviews with the idea of travelling and living in Indonesia. His father had lived there for ten years and for Shuntaro, it had always been a dream destination. The only issue was, at the time, Shuntaro sported a full-on goatee and hair so long he joked that it came down to his butt, so most companies weren’t giving him any chances. Feeling a little hopeless but never wanting to change who he was, he started looking for other opportunities in Southeast Asia. That was when he came across a travel company in Vietnam. His interview couldn’t have gone any better. They loved his look and asked when he’d be ready to join. For Shuntaro, there was no better time than now and so he went. It was 2013 and his ticket was booked for Saigon.
From the moment Shuntaro stepped foot onto the tarmac at Tân Sơn Nhất Airport, he said he experienced something of a cosmic shock. There it was, his goen coming into play. He was right where he needed to be and he knew it. He kicked things off in Vietnam with three months in Saigon. Towards the end, his boss told him that if he wanted to become an official member of the company, he’d have to relocate to Hanoi. He went without a moment’s hesitation. He’d end up spending a year in Hanoi before returning to Saigon. At that point, however, Shuntaro had turned into the company’s resident travelling salesman, bouncing back and forth between cities never saying no to an adventure. After a year back in Saigon, he returned to Hanoi where he stayed for two years. After that, Da Nang for a year before flying back to Hanoi where he remained for three years until Covid. While all this jumping around sounds tiring, Shuntaro was happy to travel. More so than that, it gave him the ability to really connect with DJs, musicians, and creatives all over Vietnam. These meetings would play a key role in the birth of Studio Adventure.
In 2016, Shuntaro was living in Hanoi. One of his favourite places to hang out at the time was a bar called Kobala. The owner was a French guy called Thomas who DJ’d and organised a lot of events in Hanoi. The two became fast friends. One evening, Thomas came to Shuntaro with an idea. He wanted to start a collective that would host more outdoor festivals in Vietnam. It would be called Studio Adventure because they never wanted to be tied down to one location—essentially, they could adventure anywhere in the country and organise parties there. Thomas asked Shuntaro whether he’d be interested in joining. Given his love of music, clubbing, and serving others, he didn’t have to think twice about an answer.
So began his time at Studio Adventure. From the start it was always a passion project. Rather than trying to make a lot of money, they do it for the love of music and bringing people together in one of Vietnam’s many scenic locations. This has resulted in a variety of festivals and gatherings, of which the most memorable to Shuntaro have been a party at a temple in Tam Cốc of Ninh Bình, a seven-day rave in Phú Quốc during Covid, as well as Studio Adventure’s yearly New Year’s Eve festivals in Phú Quốc. Shuntaro’s role has always focused on booking and hosting international artists, a role he takes to by choosing artists he believes fit that Studio Adventure ethos of a music-first approach. Given his Japanese roots, he also takes special care to bring more Japanese DJs and musicians into town, given that he believes there are many Japanese musical masters that are almost like ninjas: they like to be hidden. Shuntaro wants to bring their talent to light. Besides booking and hosting, Shuntaro also keeps tabs on Vietnam’s ever-evolving music landscape to ensure Studio Adventure has a pulse on the scene. Finally, Shuntaro also serves as their brand mascot, regularly appearing on social media posts with his trademark long hair, goatee, and toothy grin. With a solid team and music-first approach, Studio Adventure was a success from the start.
Of Shuntaro’s many travels around Vietnam, his time in Da Nang was probably the most interesting. When he moved there in 2018, the music and clubbing scene hadn’t really taken off. As the sole member of Studio Adventure in the city, work fell on his shoulders to start building up a scene to rival that of those in places like Hanoi and Saigon. He did this through the help of several younger Vietnamese guys who became something like little brothers. They helped him get through a number of loopholes and assisted with booking artists. Of the numerous parties and events they held, Shuntaro highlights two as being the most impactful. First was bringing Alex Kassian, a Japan-born Berlin-based DJ to the city. At the time he was a resident DJ in Berlin, and he often partnered with a Japanese DJ called Ooba-kun to form a duo known as Opal Sun. To hear Shutaro tell it, the event was so incredible it almost brought him to tears. After a set at a club called Soul Kitchen, they held an after party by the beach. Tons of DJs showed up to play but the only problem was, most of them were too messed up by then to properly perform. What ensued remains in Shuntaro’s eyes as one of the most legendary sets of all time. Alex Kassian ended up taking the mantle and playing for nine hours straight, going so far as to skip bathroom breaks so he never had to step away from the music.
Besides that memory, there was also a Japanese band from Kyoto called Based on Kyoto who performed in Da Nang. The trio were each over fifty and consisted of a guitar player, beat maker, and a shamisen player (a traditional three-stringed Japanese instrument that’s played with a bachi rather than a regular guitar pick). These two events really served as the building blocks for Da Nang developing a music and clubbing scene with its own special flavour. Though Shuntaro no longer lives there, he recalls that period as the time that he really put the adventure in Studio Adventure, and though some might claim this to be hyperbolic, you could make the argument that Shuntaro played a key role in creating the nightlife that many locals and tourists in Da Nang enjoy today. As for his little brothers in Da Nang, they’ve become prominent figures in the city’s current music scene, ensuring that the party won’t stop for years to come.
When he left Da Nang, Shuntaro went back to Hanoi. He stayed there during the Covid pandemic where though his work as a travel agent and tour guide dried up, he was able to find remote work in a call centre. With this job, Shuntaro survived through Covid in Vietnam. When the pandemic measures were eventually lifted, he returned to work as a tour guide with a company called Wendy Tours.
The longer I spoke to Shuntaro over our Rooster beers, the more I sensed he’s a kind of historian to Vietnam’s music and club culture of the past two decades. His work as a travel guide has forced him to live in what many consider to be Vietnam’s three major cities: Hanoi, Da Nang, and Saigon. Through these travels he’s come to not only learn about and connect with the artists and musicians who were already there, but also aid them in surpassing Vietnam’s borders and viewing themselves through a more international lens. The fact is, when it comes to music and clubbing, Shuntaro knows everybody. The time he spent in Hanoi means that he’s got tons of connections and friends there, but even though he’s only returned to live in Saigon two years ago, he’s once more creating bonds with both the older and younger generation of creatives who are actively trying to transform Vietnam’s cultural identity. Shuntaro believes this is a noble challenge. However, he wants them to go a step further by ensuring Vietnamese people stay true to their roots and do this themselves, with as little control from the outside as possible. He doesn’t say this as an attack on foreign influence in Vietnam. After all, in terms of music and clubbing you’ve got a beautiful hodgepodge of Viet-Western creations that are enjoyed by all. The Observatory and Savage come to mind, towering pillars of Vietnam’s underground music scene which are foreign-owned. To stress, Shuntaro doesn’t believe this is a bad thing. He loves what they’ve done for Vietnam’s community and culture. Rather, what he wishes for is for more Vietnamese-owned spaces and collectives to grow enough to be able to show the world what they’re all about. Examples include Vietnamese-owned spots like Unmute in Hanoi and Neo- in Saigon, as well as groups like Tung Tăng and Nhat Gãy. It’s brands like these which Shuntaro really wants to see elevate the global perception of music and clubbing in Vietnam. Though he’s long since chopped off the locks and goatee that once defined his look, when he spoke about these hopes I couldn’t help but picture him as an almost Gandalf-like figure, gently guiding a band of explorers on a path which he knows they’ll eventually have to tread upon themselves.
Conversations with Shuntaro could go on forever. He has so much to say and he likes to take his time, enjoying a beer, a cigarette, and reminiscing on all that has happened so far. It was nice talking to him, nice to come to understand that while he might’ve moved to Saigon as a guy who didn’t really know what to do with his life, now all he really wants to do is spread love and joy to those around him. There is a welcoming energy about him, one that invites you in which is why it wasn’t that much of a surprise when during our talk a couple passing by stopped and said they remembered Shuntaro from a tour they did with him a year ago. Though he later admitted he had a difficult time remembering them, he was more than gracious, speaking to them not as strangers but old friends. Having hung out with him a few times, I know he’s like this with everyone.
To date, Shuntaro’s been in Vietnam for more than a decade and when I asked about whether he’d ever return to Japan, he became unusually serious. Similar to other Japanese like Tomoki I’ve talked to, Shuntaro no longer sees himself living anywhere but Vietnam. However, his parents are getting older and as the eldest son, he does feel some responsibility to be with them as they enter their twilight years. Whether he’ll ever actually move is a tricky question he likely won’t have an answer to for years. Until then, what he wants to do is continue working with Studio Adventure to showcase the best of Vietnam on the world stage, as well as bring more of the best of the world to Vietnam. The sixth iteration of their Phú Quốc festival is coming up on New Year’s Eve and Shuntaro promises another experience for the ages. Besides music, there’ll be booths where people can buy Saigon Exotic merchandise, browse through a record store for an assortment of rare and groovy vinyls, and there might be a spot to get your haircut! When I asked about food, Shuntaro said there will be a few options onsite, but really, the team at Studio Adventure want people to enjoy the tastes of the island itself, and given its proximity to numerous restaurants, you’ll have more than your fill of seafood and other delights.
After this festival I’m certain there will be many others and perhaps, one day in the future, he might call it quits. He admitted nowadays he enjoys staying home more than he used to, and when he does go out sometimes it’s not for the thudding beats of The Observatory near his apartment but for a park where he can take a walk and look at the flowers. No matter what, even if he does hang up his jersey from the nightlife scene, you can rest assured he’ll be remembered for all he’s done. And even if he does say goodbye, it won’t be forever. Things tend to come full circle and for Shuntaro, that’s no different. He’s got a dream to open up a burger shop someday. It’ll be a small place which he says he isn’t interested in becoming rich off of—so long as he makes enough money to live simply and enjoy the occasional party, that’ll be more than plenty. He’ll run the shop himself, choose the music that gets played, and welcome anyone who stops by for a burger, drink, or even a chat with the man himself. So if you ever make it over there someday, go with the intention of asking a few questions. You might end up learning more than you ever would’ve imagined.
- Follow Shuntaro on Instagram
- Follow Studio Adventure on Instagram
