Two decades into a campaign that has seen them perform in punk clubs, festivals, carnival street parades and matsuri all over Japan and as far away as New York Times Square, Seppuku Pistols release their first ever single. Translating as Wolf Worship, Ookami Shinko heads their four track 12" dedicated to the Japanese wolf, long considered extinct since the last one was killed in 1905. Seppuku Pistols beg to differ.

“We claim ourselves as the last survivors of Japanese wolves, Ookami, that are believed to be extinct over 100 years ago,” they say. “Ookami is also a symbol/metaphor of the lost tradition and culture of Edo period in the course of modernisation and westernisation of the country.

“Historically, Japanese wolves have been worshipped as gods. Oo is big/great and Kami is god in Japanese. Ookami worship was widely accepted at the tail end of Edo period in the time of Cholera pandemic which we think is similar to the current situation with Covid-19. This song is composed in four sections and it is our way of ritual steps to call for Japanese wolf gods.”

Seppuku Pistols began as the solo performance project of Danko Iida on New Year’s Eve in 1999. They soon morphed into a four-piece of the same name. But the band describe this period as “no more than just a ‘struggle’ that led to the Seppuku Pistols today. The official formation date is 11 March 2011.” Significantly, that date coincides with the earthquake and Fukushima disaster. Before their 2011 reincarnation, Seppuku Pistols manifested themselves as a highly electric punk group which similarly never released anything on vinyl or CD, though they did give away two sets of electricity powered songs from their website, since removed, with titles like “No Mishima, No Future”, “Kill The CIA”, “Zero Sen Autumn Collection”, and more. Live, their performances have included cover versions of Dead Kennedys’ “Too Drunk To Fuck”, among other punk songs. After 11 March 2011, however, Seppuku Pistols abandoned electricity and reverted to traditional instruments including shamisen, taiko drum, shakuhachi and bamboo flutes.

“These free tracks were released back in 2010,” they say. “Following year was the year of the Tohoku earthquake and Fukushima nuclear power plant explosion. These events made us feel lame that we can’t do shit without electricity. So we withdrew these old tracks and changed our style from electric to acoustic using only Japanese traditional instruments.”

Parading their nora gi peasant look of clacking geta wooden clogs, worker kimonos and conical hats, they’ve since taken to playing street festivals, raucously leading or pushing their way through fellow revellers with a mix of their own music and, occasionally, punk covers. What with their name – seppuku is Japanese for ritual suicide (of samurai warriors) – plus some listeners’ memories of their old giveaway songs, combined with the image projected by their traditional dress sense and their participation in outdoor carnivals, Seppuku Pistols have garnered a Laibach-like reputation as populist provocateurs continuing punk by other means, compelling this listener to ask: are Seppuku Pistols nationalists?

“No, we are not a nationalist group,” they insist. “We are people concerned about today’s world. We want to merge right and left and destroy the flags.

“We still play punk classics but it’s not our purpose to connect the punk scene to normal people,” they continue, commenting on their street festival repertoire. “The reason we play those songs is that we can show where we come from and also make it easier for people to go crazy with these Japanese traditional instruments. People think Japanese traditional music is so calm and static. Even at the punk festival in New York [Seppuku Pistols also performed in Times Square, Manhattan and before the Statue of Liberty in 2018] kids couldn’t figure out what we were about until they heard us playing these punk classics.”

Their post-electricity punk has been described as Edo punk – not necessarily to the group’s liking. “We are drop out punks,” they sigh. “We quit being a typical punk. So we don’t call ourselves punk nor Edo punk. However, people wouldn’t know a word to describe us so they want to put labels to understand who we are. Edo punk is just one of those labels.

“Edo is not just a word to describe the old Tokyo,” they explain. “It is a premodern era of Japan. Edo represents roots of Japan’s counter cultures that were killed or hidden under the westernisation and modernisation after the Meiji revolution 150 years ago. What we are trying to do is beyond art or music.”

The three tracks making up the B side of Seppuku Pistols’ 12" address this theme post-Fukushima. “Tagayashi” translates as to cultivate, also to turn the situation around. “The very end result of the modernisation we faced was the explosion of the Fukushima nuclear power plant,” they say. “Many local people lost their home and farm land by this disaster. It was the turning point for many of us to reconsider how this non-stopping change is affecting our life and land.”

It’s followed by “Omajinai”, which means incantation. “What we are chanting in this song is ‘kuji in’, which is used in religions like Mikkyō and Shugendō as a layman’s practice. It is also used by samurais to wish for their protection during a war. It also contains our original incantation which aims to save us all from the evil forces like hatred, racism, fear and greed.”

Closing the 12" is “Rousoku”, a solo shakuhachi improv track titled after a word coined from rou (=wolf) and soku (=breath), they explain, and initially recorded for Toshiaki Toyoda’s film Wolf’s Calling.

Seppuku Pistols’ Ookami Shinko/Wolf Worship is released on 25 November by Seppuku Pistols Meibutsu Honten.

Read Clive Bell's article on Seppuku Pistols’ shakuhachi/flute player Katsuya Nonaka’s skateboard/shakuhachi film The Future Is Primitive in The Wire 391, in print, or online.