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A few weeks ago, I finally made it across to the neighbouring island. I went with my friend Teru from my taiko group, who also plays guitar in an Okinawan metal band. We visited a metal friend of his who lives on the next island. It’s a beautiful place—only about a kilometre or so from my island, but with a really different feel to it: it’s larger, with a smaller population, and more mountainous and windswept. Before the sun went down, I went for a walk along the coast, climbing over huge rocks and past half-submerged seaweed nets. The photo is of my island, over the nets.

Teru’s friend is into the sort of ‘progressive metal’ that only (certain types of) guitarists seem to listen to. The thing is, he can actually play it, too. Really well. While progressive metal isn’t really my thing, if there is a time and a place for ridiculous-speed, screaming guitar solos then it’s probably behind an outdoor stage on a sparsely-populated, windswept island at 2 in the morning.