Japanese rapper AKKOGORILLA found herself in an artistic slump. Then, she heard the sounds of a Japanese summer festival.
“That feeling of becoming nothing, which I love about dance music, also exists in these traditional sounds,” the artist tells scrmbl over a Zoom call from her home in Tokyo, sharing how the sorts of songs played at matsuri (festivals) in the country connected with her. A special edition of a radio show she hosted for the station J-Wave put a spotlight on these songs, and it sparked something in her.
“That’s when I thought I wanted to express that feeling using dance music rooted in my own culture.”
The resulting album Chimera, released at the very start of 2025, stands as both a creative highpoint for a performer active since the early years of the 2010s and a radical sonic reinvention. Working alongside a set of producers including the ever-wonky Foodman, pop polyglot Gimgigam, experimental electronic artist Keito and dance-pop tinkerer Gus Bonito of Kero Kero Bonito, AKKOGORILLA merges myriad strains of modern hip-hop and dance alongside the traditional folk sounds of Japanese festivals. The combination of the classic and contemporary makes for an out-of-time listen showing a sonic connection between the two times.
With the year nearing its quarterway point, Chimera is setting the pace for Japanese albums in 2025.
For AKKOGORILLA, it also marks a major personal shift. The rapper emerged on the Japanese scene in the early 2010s, scoring a handful of viral hits thanks to an energetic and unpredictable delivery, along with critical praise after embracing the spirit of Riot Grrrl on GRRRLISM. Yet soon after she says she stalled creatively, spending several years dabbling in different sounds. It was her newfound fascination with Japanese matsuri sounds — coupled with an eye-opening trip to London — that ignited a new creative flame in her without snuffing out what animated her before.
“I couldn’t have written these songs five years ago, but my core essence hasn’t changed.”
In this interview, scrmbl talks with AKKOGORILLA about Chimera, what makes Japanese festivals fun and much more. It has been edited for length and clarity.
scrmbl: You’ve said before that, prior to the creation of Chimera, you were in a slump. What caused that?
AKKOGORILLA: Let’s see...I hosted a radio show for about five and a half years, working as a DJ. At the same time that was happening, I became fully independent from my label and agency. I had four regular radio shows a week, and on top of that I was now managing my music career by myself. I couldn’t quite figure out how to balance them.
On the music front, I felt like I had settled into a certain style, and creating something I would find fresh became really difficult. I struggled with a trial-and-error approach to creation during those five years.
Was there a specific moment you thought “oh, my style has become fixed, I need to mix this up?”
I realized it through the requests for songs I was getting. It wasn’t so much that my musical style or preferences had become fixed into any one thing, but rather the image of what AKKOGORILLA was became set in stone. My work was generally bright and upbeat. I’m a very energetic and cheerful person, but I felt like this image was the only one that had really taken root in people’s minds when they thought of the project.
Why did you decide to go independent in the first place?
That’s something I’d always intended to do someday. For an assortment of reasons though, the timing to do so didn’t happen until that moment. I had to adjust to a lot of changes at once.
That sets the stage for Chimera. When did that start coming together?
It was at the end of 2023. Around that time, we had a special episode of my radio show focused on Japanese folk songs, bon odori festival dancing and music) and other forms of traditional Japanese music. Listening to that, I realized “wow, this is super interesting” and began working on Chimera.
That’s a theme and sound coming across very clearly on the album, the idea of matsuri or festival. What about the sound of a matsuri really connected with you?
I have to go even further back than the radio special I mentioned, almost three years ago. In an interview someone asked me “How does it make you feel being Japanese? How does it make you feel being a Japanese woman?” That’s been stuck in my head for a long time. I couldn’t answer that question well at the time because my music and performance back then was free from my identity. I tried to be free from those kinds of frameworks. The reason I love music — why I love the dance floor — is because in those moments you become nothing and nobody. I wanted my music to be the same, so I always had this strong awareness of wanting to liberate my art from my identity.
But when I was asked that question a few years back, I realized I couldn’t answer it well. It made me think a lot. That was the true turning point.
I kept thinking about it while continuing to love dance music, and then one day I listened to traditional festival music. Specifically, I heard a field recording of the “Kizaki Ondo.” I realized “wow, my own roots include such incredible dance music!” I’ve of course always known about this type of music, but I’d never really recognized how fascinating they were until this moment. That feeling of becoming nothing, which I love about dance music, also exists in these traditional sounds. That’s when I thought I wanted to express that feeling using dance music rooted in my own culture.
Do you remember the first time you went to a matsuri? What are your early memories of them?
When I was little, I’d go back to my mom’s hometown in Akita Prefecture in the summer, and I’d always sing and dance as part of the “Akita Ondo.” After I had this discovery of how great traditional music was, I got a lot of friends into this type of music, and everyone knew and could do “Akita Ondo” [laughs]. I was shocked people knew it so well.
I’ve never been to Akita Prefecture, let alone see a summer festival there. How would you describe it?
It’s extremely hot [laughs]. People get crazy, and they get really into dancing. Just nonstop dancing, dancing, dancing! [laughs].
How do Tokyo matsuri compare?
Well in Tokyo…do you know Koenji?
That’s where I am right now!
[laughs] Oh, great! The Koenji Awa Dori is amazing right? I will say one of the great things about Japanese festivals in general is that you don’t have to dance — some people just watch, others dance if they feel like it. If you get tired, you can take a break, dance again, drink some sake — it’s that kind of freedom that makes festivals so wonderful.
The Sanma Festival in Meguro is really lively, but something like the Kishiwada Danjiri Matsuri in Osaka is on a whole different level. The intensity of the festival varies depending on the area, but they are great no matter what. Every festival has its own charm.
Going from matsuri to the sound of Chimera, you work with a diverse set of artists and producers here, including Foodman, Taigen Kawabe, Gus Bonito of Kero Kero Bonito, Gimgigam and many more. How did you connect with them and work with them on the album?
Everyone was a friend of mine, so as I was working on each song, I’d think “I want this person on this track.” I reached out to them one by one based on specific songs. I wrote everything down, made demo tracks, and sent them along to each with a really detailed explanation of what I was aiming for. It was almost like a script.
I’d already structured Chimera beforehand. The whole album follows a timeline — from 11 p.m. when the festival starts until 5 a.m., when first train arrives. I’d tell everyone things like “this song is supposed to capture the feeling of 2 a.m.” I built out the foundation, and then handed it over to the producers, and we worked together from there.
I think you did a great job making it flow naturally, it almost feels like an itinerary or a time schedule for a show. Why did you decide to approach it like that?
That’s exactly right, I wanted it scheduled out. I’ve always wanted to try to make a concept album. For Chimera, I built it around three themes: matsuri, Chimera, and fire. As I was putting together a storyline, it felt like having a timetable of sorts guiding it was right, and helped to capture different feelings one would have throughout the night.
Festivals aren’t just about partying all the time. They also have had misemono-goya (side attractions), which can be mysterious and shocking. There are young people, locals, people feeling lonely because they can’t join in, people walking home at night while staring at the moon. Even with a festival as a setting, I could depict a wide range of emotions.
How does fire play into it all?
Fire represents something new. In Japanese there’s the word hitsukeyaku (instigator, fire starter) referring to someone who sparks something. I used fire as a motif on Chimera because one of the core themes of the album is that endings are also beginnings…and that beginnings are also endings.
You embraced a new sound here. How about on the lyrical side of things?
In the past, if a song I wrote started in the darkness, I’d always make sure it found the light. But this time, since all 18 tracks worked to form a greater story, I didn’t force that emotional transition within one number. Instead, I shined a spotlight on the emotions themselves. If a song was about darkness, I let it fully sink into the darkness. I certainly wanted to include hope amidst it too, but since I had so many songs to work with, I never forced it like I might have before.
As a listener, I find that music that allows you to dive into darker feelings can actually feel like a relief. I also feel like depicting darker emotions through lyrics can actually offer hope to some. I didn’t overthink it — I just went with the flow.
What’s an example of a song on Chimera that the AKKOGORILLA of five years ago wouldn’t have been able to write?
Hmmmm…honestly, everything [laughs].
Wow so it’s like a whole new AKKOGORILLA?
I wouldn’t say I’m a completely new person. I still love to dance. No matter how sad or painful life can be, people keep living on going forward. That’s what dance is. That’s what rhythm is. I don’t make music that’s purely dark. My way of dealing with pain and darkness is to shout it out to the world. I couldn’t have written these songs five years ago, but my core essence hasn’t changed.
You spent some time in London before working on Chimera. How did that impact you?
I went to actually try to find the “key” to creating what would become Chimera. Of course, I also went to see my friend Taigen [Kawabe, experimental artist and member of the band Bo Ningen], but I was really hoping to find a key to my next album. And it did turn out to be a pivotal experience. There was this atmosphere in London where it felt like creating art was totally natural. I could really focus there. That trip gave me the courage to express myself freely, exactly how I wanted to, without holding back.
Was there a specific moment where things clicked?
So I was staying in the attic of a place that belonged to a friend of a friend. The building itself was full of artists. There was always music playing, people painting, just constant creativity everywhere. I remember just chilling on the roof of the building, and over on the roof of the place across from me was someone else doing something creative. We just connected and became friends right there. Another person I met was a tattoo artist. We started drawing together, and at some point, they were like, “Hey, why don’t we just tattoo this?” So they tattooed it on me right there.
It was just this completely immersive environment, being surrounded by so many artists. That was a huge part of it for me.
What’s the tattoo?
AKKOGORILLA shows off a cute alien inside a little spaceship
Oh, that’s so cute!
I know, I have another one too!
So besides being a place where you could get great tattoos, it sounds like a real hub for creativity for you. How does Tokyo influence your art?
Tokyo is completely packed into Chimera. The name of the site is scrmbl, right Patrick? Tokyo is exactly that — a scramble. That’s why I didn’t want the album to be just about festivals. I wanted it to feel like a mix of influences from around the world. Japan and especially Tokyo is itself this chaotic jumble of different cultures. It’s not a melting pot per se — it’s truly a scramble. So when I was creating Chimera, I wanted to incorporate all kinds of dance music from different countries.
That chaotic and scrambled nature—that’s exactly what Tokyo is to me.It’s what has influenced me the most. I’ve lived here since I was born, but when I go abroad, I really feel that about Tokyo.
You are somewhat a veteran of Japanese music at this point. What advice would you give younger artists now?
I believe expressing yourself without limitations improves the future of Japanese music. People often say that Japan’s music industry is Galapagos-ized— isolated and unique from the rest of the world —but that very uniqueness is what makes it interesting from an international perspective. In today’s world, where social media allows artists to connect with so many people, everything is becoming valid in its own way. That’s why it’s important to express yourself freely without restrictions. The number of people who create environments that make it difficult for artists to work is decreasing, and I feel that the music scene is getting brighter.
Any final messages for international readers?
I create a kind of hip-hop that could only come from Japan. So if you ever find yourself in Japan…check out a live show. Though of course, I’d love to perform in your country too!
