#35 「ロフトプラスワンの幽霊？」
One of the hosts of Shinrai Dekinai Katari-te (信頼できない語り手), the podcast co-hosted by Asai Ryo and Kato Chie, attended a slenderie record concert and used the occasion to share two never-before-told stories about Fujii Takashi (藤井隆) from the pandemic years. The episode moves from a night spent alone at a zero-audience Loft Plus One show — singing Gomatou's 'Shall We Love?' at the after-party — to philosopher Washida Kiyokazu's argument that midlife crises disappear the moment you stop seeing life as a straight line.
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What this episode answers
What did the host take away from seeing Fujii Takashi staff the merchandise table himself right before showtime?
The host came away convinced that 'fans are made in moments like these' — seeing Fujii speak warmly and loudly with fans at the merchandise table even when his voice needed protecting before a show was the polar opposite of minimizing effort for maximum gain.
What was the content of the 'apology message' Fujii Takashi sent to the host?
Fujii wrote to say he had worried the studio moment might have been broadcast and the host might have happened to see it, which could have been hurtful — he reached out specifically to eliminate that anxiety even though the scenario required two unlikely things to happen at once.
Why was the host nearly mistaken for a ghost at the pandemic-era Loft Plus One show?
Invited by Fujii-san as the sole guest of a zero-audience performance, the host stood silently against the wall holding an uchiwa for the entire show; since Tsubaki Kiinu and Razor Ramon RG had not been told the host was there, they may well have taken the host for a ghost haunting the venue.
What was the chorus-line staging format Fujii Takashi used at this concert?
After introducing each guest, Fujii stayed on stage and joined the chorus line at a row of standing microphones; subsequent guests also joined the chorus one by one, blending in so naturally that the host didn't realize Tanaka-san (Kokori-ko) had been in the chorus from the very beginning.
How does philosopher Washida Kiyokazu reframe the midlife crisis?
Washida argues that picturing life as a straight line with a defined start and end is what generates the concept of 'the middle' in one's forties; if you drop the endpoints and think of life as an amidakuji (ladder-lottery diagram) whose axis shifts completely at each rung, the very idea of a midlife crisis dissolves.
The Hospitality of a "Merchandise Dad" at Line Cube Shibuya
One of the hosts attended last week's slenderie record family concert at Line Cube Shibuya (formerly Shibuya Kokaido, also known as C.C. Lemon Hall). The label had toured eleven cities across Japan between July and September this year, and the Shibuya date was the final stop. The host won tickets through the fan club and watched from a prime seat in the front section of the first floor.
The merchandise on sale included a button-down shirt rather than the standard T-shirt — practical enough for everyday wear, so the host bought one. What left a deeper impression was seeing Fujii-san staff the merch table himself right up until showtime, then return to the same spot after the performance. Speaking loudly and warmly to fans at a moment when his voice still needed protecting struck the host as the antithesis of minimizing effort for maximum gain. "I realized this is how fans are made," the host said.
Secret Story #1 — An Apology for a Doubly Unlikely Scenario
The host regards Fujii-san as a role model and had exchanged contact details with him after appearing on a show together. On one occasion at a different program's recording studio, a guest named the host as their favorite author. With roughly a dozen people in the room — including Fujii-san — the response was a vague "who?" energy. Fujii-san knew exactly who the host was, but couldn't bring himself to say so in the moment.
Sometime later, a message arrived: "I reached out in case it was broadcast and you happened to see it — I thought it might hurt." The scenario required two unlikely things to happen simultaneously, yet Fujii-san sent the message anyway. The host reflected: "There are people who never get that human fork in the road wrong."
Secret Story #2 — The Ghost of Loft Plus One
During the pandemic, Fujii-san's regular unit event with Tsubaki Kiinu (椿鬼奴) and Razor Ramon RG was staged for the first time without an audience. The show usually filled Loft Plus One with crowds eating, drinking and making noise together; now it would play to nothing but cameras. Nervous about performing into a void, Fujii-san invited the host — just the host, no one else — saying it would be "easier to sing" with someone there.
The host stood alone against the wall for the entire show, uchiwa in hand. Tsubaki Kiinu and RG had not been told about the arrangement, and the host jokes they may have assumed a ghost was haunting the venue — the kind you're not supposed to acknowledge. At the small after-party that followed, the host was called upon to sing. They chose "Shall We Love?" by Gomatou (ごまっとう), reasoning that its structure — full energy from the very first bar — would lift the room rather than drag it down. It worked.
The Chorus-Line Staging — and Three Songs for Someone
The concert's staging earned the host's highest praise: a chorus-line format they called "an invention." After introducing each guest, Fujii-san didn't leave the stage; instead, he joined the chorus line at a row of standing microphones and stayed. As each new guest appeared, they too joined the growing ensemble. Wakui Emi (和久井映見) and Hayami Yu (早見優) both had their spotlight moments while Fujii-san remained onstage throughout. The host didn't even notice that Tanaka-san (Kokori-ko / ここり子) had been in the chorus from the start — that's how naturally everyone blended.
The sight revived a vision the host has quietly carried for over a decade: three specific songs they are convinced a certain person should record, songs that would genuinely delight that person's fans. Not quite enough for a full album — EP-scale, the host has always figured. Seeing Fujii-san's approach felt like a real-world version of that vision. "It made me want to do it even more," the host said.
Seeing Life as an Amidakuji — Washida Kiyokazu's Perspective
The episode closes with a thought from a book of conversations between philosopher Washida Kiyokazu (鷲田清一) — who also served as president of Osaka University — and clinical psychologist Higashihata Haruto (東畑開人), centred on midlife crises. Washida's argument: it's precisely because we picture life as a straight line with a clear start and end that the concept of "the middle" materialises in our forties and starts to weigh on us. Drop the endpoints; think of life instead as an amidakuji (a ladder-lottery diagram) whose axis shifts completely at every rung — and the idea of a midlife crisis simply stops making sense. The host found this reframing "deeply persuasive" and ended the episode on that note.
Takeaways
- Fujii Takashi's practice of staffing the merchandise table himself before and after every show left the host convinced that 'fans are made in moments like these' — a commitment that stands in stark contrast to any instinct to minimize effort.
- During the pandemic, the host stood alone with an uchiwa at a zero-audience Loft Plus One show at Fujii-san's personal invitation — an experience kept private for years out of respect for fan-culture norms around special treatment.
- Philosopher Washida Kiyokazu's reframing of life as an amidakuji — without fixed start or end, its axis shifting completely at each rung — dissolves the very concept of a midlife crisis.
This article is edited from a machine transcript of the first 30 minutes of the episode. It is not an official summary — please listen to the episode itself.