Tokyo is a drinkers paradise. A haven of bars, open all night and straight through to morning. Smoke-filled places which you can emerge from bleary-eyed, into the crisp blue dawn among the salarymen.
There is something for everyone here, from the humble glass of foamy Kirin, to the most expensive, aged whiskey. There are izakayas, taverns, clubs, beer halls, one room dives with five chairs, jazz bars, soul clubs, metal pubs, tourist traps and classical music cafes. You can find them on quiet streets, deep in high rise blocks, or tucked away underground, almost hidden, on the busiest intersections of the busiest neighbourhoods. It’s best to try them all if you have the time.
You can find them by word of mouth, Google map links shared with you from a friend, who got it from their friend. Or maybe you’ll just stumble into one, thirsty or tired, in need of a whiskey highball or a lemon sour to refresh and cool down, rest tired feet during an impromptu rain storm. You’ll drop in and have a great time and then never be able to find it again, and the memory of that evening will be all the better for its unreplicability.
It was thus, a recommendation from a friend of a friend, that pointed us in the direction of Jazz Cafe Narcissus. And even with directions we struggled to find it. Narcissus is hidden in a nondescript block in Kabukicho. It is flanked on each side by girls bars, peep shows, cheap restaurants and convenience stores. Look out for a faded sign in the window of a block that simply says “Jazz”, and which you will miss unless you’re really looking for it, and a door next to it, where “Narcissus” is written in Kanji. From here you have to wind up some rickety stairs, and then through a door, and you’re greeted by the thick hum of a thousand years of cigarette smoke and the expansive squeal of free jazz.
