Murakami, Haruki Advertisement for a Jazz Coffee Shop


Advertisement for a Jazz Coffee Shop That Was in Kokubunji a Long Time Ago

by Haruki Murakami

Translated by Christopher Allison

While it may alienate some people right from the start, this isn't the kind of shop where everyone, male or female, young or old, is cheerfully welcomed. We have something of a problem, especially during the summer. The air-conditioner doesn't work very well. It's not that it doesn't work at all: the area right around the vent is quite cool. But if you move away a little bit, this cool air won't reach you. There is, possibly, some kind of structural defect with the machine. We keep wondering if we should exchange it for a new one. But there are other more difficult circumstances as well.

In this shop, we play music. If, perchance, you are not a jazz fan, the volume of the music may be quite unpleasant. If, on the other hand, you are an ardent jazz fan, you may find the same volume to be less-than-satisfying. To whichever group you belong, please don't blame the manager. This is a perfect example of "You can't please all the people all the time." We don't have many John Coltraine records. In compensation, we have lots of Stan Getz. There are no Keith Jarret records, but we have all the Chord Williams albums. Please don't hassle the manager for this. It's been this way since the beginning. We have live music once a week. Young musicians play their hearts out for next to nothing. The piano is just a cheap upright, and it's badly out of tune. The quality of the music varies, but it's always energetic, and the volume is always loud, so it may not be the most suitable background music for talking to your sweetheart.

While the manager isn't exactly reticent, he's not very talkative either. Or perhaps he's just not very good at talking. When he's not busy, he sits at the counter and reads books. To tell the truth, four years from now he'll quite unexpectedly write a novel and receive a literary prize for new writers, but no one knows this yet. This is not even known to the manager himself. He probably thinks he'll end his days as the manager of a Kokubunji jazz cafe, quietly listening to his favorite music everyday. It is not known anywhere in the world. But anyway, now it's 2:30 in the afternoon, and "Billy Taylor at London House" is playing. It's not a very good performance, but the manager kind of likes it. In any event, please don't blame him for it.

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