Interview: Zoom Lens’ Meishi Smile on J-Pop, Living On The Web, and Real Life

Zoom Lens is one of the standout net-based label/collectives that have arisen in the last few years. Operating since its creation as a very much DIY entity, it began life in 2009 as a home for Ome, an album by Yuko Imada, one of the monikers of its founder, Garrett Yim. “During 2008, Orange County, California had somewhat of an experimental community scene connected through MySpace,” he explains, revealing the backdrop for the creation of Zoom Lens. “People ran their own labels. I say label in the loosest sense of the word. The releases exchanged were scribbled blank CD-Rs burnt hot off a laptop.”

From this discovery of “something unique beyond the music itself,” the label has grown as a community, embracing a host of different styles, from the phantomatic electropop of LLLL and the internationalist J-pop from Filipino producer Ulzzang Pistol, to the soul-fluttering nostalgia conjured by Meishi Smile; all of them gravitate towards the “emotive electronic and pop music” swirling at the heart of Zoom Lens.

Garrett Yim’s philosophy helped the label to flourish in this way; its “motto” carves out a space for each individual: “We are a collective of musicians. Humanity across the digital divide. Digital punk rock spirit. Fuck real life.” “Do not let others create your ‘reality’ for you,” he asserts, clarifying. “Within reason and respect to yourself and others, there is no right way to ‘live’ and it is not in the position of others to impose that upon you.”

At the same time, with an international roster that encompasses artists from Japan, the Philippines, Singapore and the US, Zoom Lens also evokes a family of sorts, of spanning cultural and continental canyons through our digital world. “We are strict in our stance to advocate equality and support for all those people and wish for this to be a circle of respect,” Garrett explains.

What’s the story behind Zoom Lens?

I was fascinated with Japanese harsh noise and film and a friend gave me the name Yuko Imada while I was struggling to find a musical identity. Yuko Imada was a pseudonym used by Tsutomu Miyazaki, a Japanese otaku murderer. In Miyazaki’s case, that name was a pun that roughly translated to the phrase “Now I’ll Tell.” That confessional phrasing represented my desire to exorcize demons through harsh noise and performance art, while maintaining a confrontational attitude and self-aware sense of humor.

During that time I was inspired by groups such as Hanatarash, Masonna, The Gerogerigegege, Violent Onsen Geisha and Hijokaidain. Myself and many other early members and associates of Zoom Lens such as Malta, Thought Tempo and Liquid Sunshine often performed together in a slew of broken instruments, screaming and bodily fluids.

So how did you move from performing as Yuko Imada to running a label?

I encountered something unique beyond the music itself. People ran their own labels, although I say label in the loosest sense of the word. The releases were scribbled blank CD-Rs burnt hot off a laptop. The packaging was flimsy and decorated with spray paint and glued with pictures from vintage magazines. This was something I had never seen before. It was so raw, so personable. I loved every single thing about those releases, more than the normal CDs I bought. I soon debuted my first ever release as Yuko Imada on 3-inch CD through a now defunct Long Beach-based label called Nihil Underground. Eventually the DIY aesthetic of that scene motivated me. If it was DIY, then why wasn’t I doing this myself too? I created Zoom Lens in 2009 as a means to release my own music. Yuko Imada’s full-length album was released as a CD-R packaged in a DVD case containing a cryptic letter that had been soaked in my own blood.

How did you meet Kyle Yerhot, who produces as Uio Loi?

We met over MySpace while he was still producing black metal. I didn’t like much black metal, but I enjoyed his music. He didn’t like much noise, but he enjoyed mine. We exchanged music and soon I was open to the idea of releasing other musicians as well. Some of the first projects on the label are just either Kyle or myself under different aliases. The label wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for him.

You’ve got another musical identity as Meishi Smile. How did you discover your pop side?

Even when I created Yuko Imada I always thought I wanted to do this, but on a pop level. I was enthralled by the production of Yasutaka Nakata (capsule, Perfume) and Onishi Terukado (Saori@destiny, Aira Mitsuki), along with acts like Genki Rockets. There is a very specific compilation of mid-’00s Japanese techno-pop called Beautiful Techno that really defined my taste back then. Those sentimental sensibilities of pop music coupled with very distinct Japanese melodies that left me reminiscent of childhood video games opened me to a new world. It was like dance music you could dance to alone.

How did people within the scene react to you wanting to make pop music?

Many people within that experimental scene didn’t understand. It’s an insular scene and they thought my actions were insincere. Before my views were distorted because of whom I associated with, so I moved on. Many people within that experimental scene didn’t understand. It’s an insular scene and they thought my actions were insincere. My views of what music were became distorted because of the opinions of those people. I had to move on if I wanted to embrace something bigger and more progressive.

It was when I heard the album Naughty Boys by Yellow Magic Orchestra that I knew I needed to begin a new project. The day I heard “Kimi no Mune Kyun” was when I came up with the name MEISHI SMILE. I knew that I wanted a name that contrasted pop sensibilities with something much darker, so I knew I always had to use the word “smile.” The word “meishi” means business card. My friend Sebastian wrote a short story around that time referencing my name and described a “meishi smile” as “formality masquerading as emotion,” which solidified the intent of what I wanted to do.

You traveled to Tokyo this year for a Zoom Lens show at 2.5D, and met some of the guys from Japanese netlabel Maltine, amongst others. Did this refresh the direction of the label?

In Japan, there is a niche for everything. It is easy to find your place and find a community and be a part of that. Maltine Records is very inspirational in the sense that they encompass all forms of art, and not just music. Everyone there is connected and knows each other and there is a beautiful support system present. While I am thankful for the warmth I felt there, I came back feeling that my main place to do Zoom Lens was in America. I would love to bridge many of the positive experiences I’ve had in Japan and bring that feeling to America.

Which parts of J-culture inspire you most?

Much of my music and the identity I’ve established with Zoom Lens stems from my place as a fourth generation Japanese/Chinese American. When I grew up I was too Asian for the Caucasian kids, much too “white-washed” for the Asian kids. My identity was very unique, at times lonely. My only lasting close friend throughout school was Alex of Malta. We connected over music and he was the one who introduced me to an anime called FLCL. Through FLCL I began to identity more with the popular culture aspects of Japan and connected to that sort of outsider mentality, as anime and Japanese music were still very obscure interests back then. It was like J-Pop was my punk rock.

That coupled with my experience playing video games such as Mystical Ninja Starring Goemon on N64 gave me connectivity to Japanese pop culture that was very focused on times of lonely joy. Due to my consumption of video games and Japanese music I developed such an ear for those melodies that they became intrinsic to who I was and why I react to certain music or images within Japanese pop culture. It was nostalgia realized into something completely new and unique.

I’ve always been drawn to your motto. What does it mean to you?

The Zoom Lens motto is essentially each single phrase echoing itself in strength. It properly ends on the most visceral phrase associated with the label, “Fuck Real Life.” “Fuck Real Life” is about escaping societal constraints, but not about escapism from reality itself. It’s about being unashamed of who you are and that the weight of your existence does not need to be carried alone.

Some of your imagery has attracted accusations of misogyny and of glorifying serial killers. How does that sit with you?

Much of this imagery was conceptualized in the past, during a different era of Zoom Lens and doesn’t represent the direction we wish to move into now. But I stand by the idea of exploring such concepts as a means of commentary and discussion. Personally, I consider myself a feminist and to be gender fluid and would much rather identify as female as I’ve never been fond of traditional views of masculinity. Ultimately, with the images in question I wanted to create something very visceral to explore themes of tangibility, sexuality and the transparency of emotions.

During that time I was also very fascinated by Yukiko Okada, a silver-age pop idol who committed suicide early during her career. Until that point I had always sensed a feeling of duality with J-Pop. On a general level, J-Pop had always left me with an infinite sadness despite its connotation as being a generally “happy” genre of music. Some refer to Japanese Pop idols as wearing a “mask,” or a public persona.

With the introduction of the Yukiko Okada shirt in 2011 (recently reprinted in 2014) I wanted to represent a commentary on how the world treats such people. Transparent, faceless, singular and the same. It was never meant to make light of violence against women or show passive aggression towards them. That burn mark was her mask, left out in the open for people to see a pain that had always been overlooked before. I wanted to show people that Okada was a real person with real feelings, and that we all have such humanity.

To reiterate, these images are in no way meant to tell you that you should participate in such perceived violence or overtly non-consensual sexuality, rather it is to draw attention to the subject matter because I feel like these topics are seldom discussed in an intelligent manner. Being a product of the Internet and spending my childhood in a very suburban and conservative area, the only things that really spoke to me were images that were very visceral and politically charged. It was with those images that I wished to dig deeper. We want to explain our meaning, but we hope for you to discover too.

There is a definitive sense of inclusivity that Zoom Lens exudes, and it feels more than a simple celebration of the underdog; what does this stem from?

I think that many of us on Zoom Lens feel a strange sense of isolation. We come from different interests and backgrounds, yet we relate in a very specific way under this collective.

We’re part of the first real generation that has been able to find solace in the digital world if the “real” world proved unsympathetic or harsh. How do you think this has shaped the way the music is today, and how it will continue?

It is very easy to focus on the positive aspects of building a community and finding an identity online. Those things are both very beautiful, but I think one negative aspect of it is that it can be stagnating. It has become easy for people to do the same things in a very safe way. I think overly positive reinforcement leads people to be sheltered in a way that does not let art flourish in a unique manner. I just think music needs to stop being so apolitical. There needs to be less flavors of the week. Less unanimous thumbs-ups.

What’s next for the label?

Zoom Lens is like an RPG and we’re meeting new friends and gaining experience along the way. I want to make a lot of enemies actually, in a good way. I want to learn how to do things better. I want this to be more than just about music, I want this to be a cultural movement. I want Zoom Lens to have its own Family Values Tour ‘98.

Lastly, do you have any wise words for aspiring artists?

Remember to feel real.

FIVE ESSENTIAL ZOOM LENS RELEASES

Every Zoom Lens album has been important towards its overall aesthetic and feeling in way or another. If it weren’t significant to me personally then it wouldn’t be on the label. If I had to choose five favorites off the top of my head they would have to be...

LLLL - Paradice
A definitively Zoom Lens album. Tragically bleak and beautiful. It’s like a spider gliding across a web. Musically, aesthetically all the elements are here. LLLL were one of my favorite groups ever since they released their first EP. It was a dream to release their first full-length record. Favorite Track: “You”

Young Henry - Octagon
The start of everything Zoom Lens and the progression towards a more avant-pop sound. This was one of Kyle Yerhot’s previous projects and to me it was a complete genre-definer. In 2011 Kyle was embracing a lot of musical nuances that only now people are catching onto. I describe it as both borderline obsessive and bittersweet and like a demented mixtape of Japanese and Korean pop. Favorite Track: “Infinity Girls”

Malta - مالتا
A currently unreleased album slated for November 2014. It’s the darkest and most abstract record to be on Zoom Lens and will change people’s perception of the label. Favorite Track: “A Shift”

Yuko Imada - Moon
I was hesitant to name one of my own albums, but in terms of Zoom Lens history it was a very specific and insular period of time before others were involved with the label. The release consists of drone and ambient guitar pieces written about the cycle of love and heartbreak. It was centered on the influence of storytellers such as Haruki Murakami and Wong Kar Wai. Favorite Track: “On Seeing”

Ulzzang Pistol - Girlfriend
Girlfriend is the album that I wish I found in high school. It’s the most J-Pop album never made in Japan. Everything about the genre and the feelings felt on an individual level is perfected in this. I wish I wrote this, but I am happy to experience it through a listener’s perspective. Favorite Track: “Danceforever” (feat. Sarah Bonito)