All of these images were shot for All Music Magazine. Thanks again to everyone who made this happen—I truly appreciate the great opportunity. Check out the published review here.

© 2025 Aki Fujita Taguchi at A.F.T. Photography. All rights reserved. The link to this page is sharable as long as you credit me (Aki Fujita Taguchi). However, any use or download of these photos without permission—including on social media or personal websites—may result in legal action. Please feel free to reach out if you have any questions or inquiries.

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Photos and words by Aki Fujita Taguchi

On a stormy March evening, I found myself navigating the chaotic streets of Kabuki-chō, one of Tokyo’s most frenetic districts, on my way to Zepp Shinjuku. Carrying heavy camera equipment through the crowd was no easy task, but descending four floors underground to experience Mogwai’s wall of sound felt like the perfect setting—organized chaos within the chaos of the city itself.

Formed in Glasgow in 1995 by Stuart Braithwaite (guitar), Dominic Aitchison (bass), Martin Bulloch (drums), and Barry Burns (vocals, guitar, keyboards), Mogwai will celebrate their 30th anniversary in 2025. Their latest album, The Bad Fire, released on January 24, 2025, takes its title from a Scottish slang term for “hell.” Following the chart-topping success of As the Love Continues (2021), this album draws inspiration from the personal hardships the band has faced in recent years.

Returning to Tokyo for the first time in seven years since their Studio Coast performance, Mogwai’s show was sold out well in advance—a testament to their devoted following in Japan.

The set began about six or seven minutes past the scheduled time with “God Gets You Back” from The Bad Fire (2025), seamlessly flowing into “Hi Chaos” from the same album. What followed was a masterclass in contrast—gentle silence giving way to overwhelming sonic intensity. At times, it felt like being thrown into apocalyptic chaos; at others, like being carried into an uncertain yet hopeful future.

Braithwaite’s quiet “Arigato, thank you” between songs was a charming touch, while the packed audience swayed hypnotically, some nodding their heads, fully immersed in the experience. With almost no lyrics to sing along to, this was a concert meant for feeling rather than chanting. When the band launched into “Ithica 27ø9” from Ten Rapid (1997), the ferocity of the guitars sent chills through the venue.

The setlist differed significantly between Tokyo and Osaka, but each night featured a well-balanced mix of new and old material. The newer songs stood strong alongside the classics, proving that Mogwai’s sound continues to evolve without losing its emotional depth.

Despite their understated stage presence, the band commanded absolute attention. There were no extravagant gestures—just pure, immersive sound. Their ability to create such depth from minimal movement and restraint is remarkable. The transition from delicate melodies to earth-shattering crescendos in “Mogwai Fear Satan” from Young Team (1997) was breathtaking, stretching moments of quiet into an overwhelming sonic climax.

After a relatively short main set, the encore featured an unrelenting 20-minute rendition of “My Father, My King” (2001), a song that embodies Mogwai’s signature balance of serenity and chaos. Even after the band had left the stage, feedback continued to echo through the venue, a fitting end to the sonic assault.

Over 90 minutes and 14 tracks, Mogwai delivered a set that not only showcased The Bad Fire but also reflected the full span of their career. The dramatic lighting enhanced the ethereal elements of the new album, creating an atmosphere that felt like a journey into the unknown.

Few bands demand to be experienced live as much as Mogwai. Their music is not just something to listen to—it’s something to be lost in. A collision of delicate beauty, sheer force, and crushing intensity, their live performance is an immersive ritual of sound and light that cannot be replicated in recordings.

As the house lights came on and the venue emptied, the experience lingered. Closing my eyes, I could still see the flashing strobes, still feel the deep rumble in my chest. A Mogwai concert doesn’t simply end when the last note fades—it reverberates within you, refusing to let go. It’s intoxicating, and before you know it, you’re already craving the next one.