Asahi Evening News: The Best Ads in Life are Free

Looking for an oscillator? Or an alien? Get what you’re after in the pages of Japan’s freewheeling classified ad press.

If you are in search of phone cards from the Baltic states, a pen pal in New Zealand or want to buy a pharmacy in Venezia, the chances are you will be able to find what you want in Japan’s free ad magazines. After years where the concept of classified advertising was virtually mainstream ad media, magazines that invite individuals to place ads to buy and sell second-hand goods, seek housing, pets, language exchange partners or romance are booming in Japan. Leading the pack of English-language free-ad papers is “Tokyo Classified,” a colorful publication that started as a 2-page pamphlet three years ago.

Nowadays, the free information pamphlet, in which individuals can place advertisements free of charge and that generates revenue by charging companies to advertise, has 24 pages and a circulation of 30,000. If you’ve just arrived in Tokyo, you can use the classifieds to find a house, to go places and meet people. You couldn’t do that before,” said Mark Devlin who co-owns Crisscross Co., the complany which started the handout.

Mary Devlin-Mark’s partner and wife-and another partner who has since left the company set up Crisscross in September 1993 and published the first issue in February 1994. “Before we published the first issue, Mary went around trying to sell ads to Japanese companies. We had a bit of a problem because many Japanese companies didn’t know what a classified ad was.” said Mark. He said the company plans to expand the magazine to include listings of upcoming events, as well as advertisements this year.

Free-ad magazines such as “Buy and Sell,” which originated in Vancouver, and the London-based “Loot” have long been popular in North America and Europe, but for many years publishing companies did not think free-ad papers would catch on in Japan. In the last two years, however, both English-language and Japanese-language free-ad papers have taken off here. Many people pick up the magazines to look for second-hand bargains, but others flip through the ads regularly to be amused by the sometimes off-the-wall ads that turn up among the serious ones.

Anything goes

Along with pages of computers for sale and “handsome guys looking for … girls,” there are also ads selling such oddities as a “Morse code practice oscillator.” Perhaps you might be interested in the “handyman from California who fixes lonely broken hearts.” A “hot spring club for active and sophisticated people” invites people to take part in day-trips featuring mixed bathing, while Sleepless in Yokohama desperately appeals for “help and a a serious relationship” in recent editions of Tokyo Classified. Support groups like Overeaters Anonymous and counseling groups such as a group helping the adult children of alcoholics also regularly place ads.

There are no restrictions on the ads that are run in the free ads papers-and no guarantee that the contents are accurate. In the main, ads are run just the way they are received, leaving both readers and placers of ads in a vulnerable position. A Canadian man, whose Tokyo Classified ad begins: “Alien is here! Are you bored dating men from earth…,” said he gets three to six responses a week from the ad, which he has been running for several weeks. He placed the ad, he said, “to meet somebody interesting.” So far he has met five of his callers. But also because of his ad, he now receives prank phone calls regularly.

Reiko Yamamoto of Kyoritsu Dentall Association, who regularly advertises English-language dental services in the magazine, said she believes the English-Language classifieds are the best way to reach foreigners who have only just come to Japan and don’t speak Japanese. “People come to the dental office because they have seen the ad,” she said.

Getting in on the act

The first Japanese-language free-ad magazine to go on sale here was “Quanto,”offering 300 pages of ads for the buying and selling of such items as second-hand cars and brand-name goods. Unlike the Enlish-language papers, “Quanto” is not free of charge and costs ¥430 per copy. “It’s a good way to sell goods because it’s cheap,” said Masayoshi Tsushima, who said he received 30 responses from an advertisement for Chanel design bags in the Jan. 16 issue of the magazine. Noboru Endo, managing editor of “Quanto,” believes the Japanese-language ad paperss have become popular because of a change of thinking in Japan.”We felt there was no need to go through Japan’s long, complicated distribution system to sell goods. We wanted to give people a chance to sell goods directly,” he said.

Another ad paper publisher makes a separate point. “One reason (free-ad papers took such a long time to catch on in Japan) is because people were afraid to put personal telephone numbers and addresses in the ads,” said Toshiaki Onoki, the deputy managing editor of “Jamaru,” a Japanese-language free-ad magazine that started a year ago and costs ¥430. To overcome the problem, “Jamaru” uses a system where individual advertisements are assigned numbers, and inquirers phone or write to the magazine stating the number of the advertisement they are interested in. The magazine then passes the messages on to the person who placed the ad.

Passport-sized photographs of senders are included in some of “Jamaru” ads, which is almost entirely devoted to personal ads for friends, club events and romance. “Jamaru” is published by the “From A” company, which is a subsidiary of Recruit, a major publisher of employment information magazines. The magazine sells more than 400,000 copies a month. In January, it is expanding its business to include four regional editions.”These days, there is so much information available that it has become difficult to find what you are liiking for. We wanted to allow the public to advertise for the information they wanted,” said Onoki. “With the consumption tax rising this year and having to pay for (large item) gargage pickup in Tokyo, people’s interest in buying and selling second-hand goods has been heightened,”said Onoki of “Jamaru.”

By Miranda Loney, Asahi Evening News.

Jump

He couldn’t believe it when she jumped. High on the ledge. One minute she was there and the next gone. Just like that.

All day she had been depressed. As the tears formed he knew she was on her way to a better place. ‘Hey honey, what’s up?’ he’d asked over breakfast. ‘Nothing’ she whispered, head full of clouds. “Just wanna get high.’ But they had to wait. First thing you learn is that you always gotta wait.

Kathy was ‘The Man’ – she had thrown them into it. Older, wiser, she had come to them – “Yesterday I was so high! I mean, really out there! Soooo good!” she pushed the words out between breathless breaths, freeing their minds by capturing their desire. That was the beginning of the fall.

He had loved Kathy, but now Alice was the only one. For a time, all three of them enjoyed the rush together, the speed. Until last week when Kathy ran herself into the ground. His last memory was her smile, uncertain and faded. Last night in a dream, an angel who had come to protect him lost its wings and fell to earth. “I miss her so much!”

It hit Alice hardest. Her perfectly packed backpack was now ripped and torn inside. She just didn’t want to think any more. More than ever now she needed the pure thrill of the rush to cover the pain. Her dream was spiraling towards the ground with zero resistance.

We knew we had to end it. We both knew that this had to be the last time. The risks were too high. Maybe we would be able to pull through. Maybe this time we would hit the ground running. It all seemed so different from up here. Up there everything that was difficult became easy. The door was open, you just had to choose whether to go through or whether to stay behind.

So they had gone to the usual place and gone through the ritual. Pretty soon they were floating high above the world. Somewhere between reality and fantasy he woke from a dream. And then she was on the ledge. He didn’t think she would do it. Really, really didn’t think she’d be able to do it. And then, suddenly out of time, she jumped and was gone. Just like that.

He ran to the ledge screaming and screaming and jumped after her. As the wind pushed his face to terminal velocity he could see the island and Alice’s open ‘chute way below.

He let gravity take control and enjoyed the ride.

 Copyright  Mark Devlin July 1996

Fingerpainting

For the first time in years Simon Jones was having fun. He was painting.

He was sick of them all. Especially Andy. Andy was getting more boring by the day. The weird thing was that even though he was the reasonable one, the others seemed to side with Andy. Even James, their “long-suffering” manager had taken him aside yesterday after the sound check.

The others have asked me to have a word with you. Just to see if you are ok.”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled.
“How’s Susan?”
“Fine.” He didn’t mention the fight.
“We’re worried about you.”
He drew blankly on his cigarette.
“The guys just want to know where we are going with this.”
“What’s Andy saying now?”
“Nothing. He’s off with Jane.”
They both looked at each other for a moment, and laughed survivors’ laughs. Bitch from Hell.

James’voice turned serious now, although it didn’t suit his cherub face.
“Simon, it’s a system; you, the band, the audience and you’ve got to keep control. Let’s talk after the show.”

But he didn’t want to talk. He was done with talking. Tonight was special. It would be the last night. He was going to show them what a show was. They just provided the backing, he was the artist. They came to see him while the others fumbled in the shadows to catch up.

He had imagined this several months ago when he was tripping with Spock and the guys down at Chambers Street.

“I’ve got to take the show further. I want to take it out there.”
“Cool” they said.
“Communicating with the audience through non-communication”
“Cool” they said.
“More than face-to-face, it’s mind-to-mind!”
“Cool” they said.

Then they all took more acid.

He avoided the band the rest of the day. They were probably down the pub. It hurt him that Andy couldn’t understand where he was going with the show. They had grown up together. He used to tease Andy about his youthful desire to be a policeman. “When I grow up I want to be a painter, not a plodder”. But they had found that together they were able to attack the audience with their incompetent noise and even get paid for it.

Success for a short second. And then slowly, eventually Simon had got tired of hearing Andy’s complaint “We have to play better, we have to play songs the audience knows. We have to get more professional.”

But to Simon, this noise was professional. His art was unpredictability, not repeatability. And he didn’t want to explain that because it shouldn’t have to be explained. He didn’t want to argue. He just pitied Andy silently for wanting to control the uncontrollable.

The last show was amazing. He was on the stage, tripping, and the audience were feeling his vibe and getting off on it. He didn’t even have to play his guitar. It was like telepathy. There could be no closer communication of mind and spirit. The other guys in the band didn’t understand. They were scared, because they couldn’t let go. They would never understand what it was like to be out in front. Putting your mind on the line.

He saw a girl in the audience. She was swaying backward and forward. Back and forth to the music and colors in his mind. And for a moment she looked into his eyes and saw nothing reflected back but the universe.

James had tried to talk to him after the show, but he was on too much of a high. He didn’t want to say or sing a single word ever again. He had left that world and was now somewhere warm and comfortable. And frankly, he had never felt better.

And then it came to him. He had to paint. He was an artist and an artist must paint. He took a taxi back, clutching three tins of paint he’d found behind the stage.

Like a child he felt the wicked exhilaration of slapping paint on his wall’s cool surface. He dripped, he daubed, he rubbed. His fingers merged the colors of his mind into a huge swirl that looked like heaven and hell.

The yellow had run out. He threw the tin at the wall, making a cute sunburst, just like his guitar. Then he threw his guitar at the wall. Another sunburst. Then he threw himself at the wall.

Some time later when all the paint was gone and the sun seared through the slit in the curtains he pulled his wet fingers from the wall and stepped back. His masterpiece. It had perfect form. He smiled to himself and decided to call it “Sanity”. He sat, lit up his last cigarette and admired it for a very long time.

The phone had been ringing for a while. He shook himself and, looking back at the wall, lifted the receiver. “Mr Jones, this is housekeeping, this is your wake-up call…Mr Jones?…Hello?”

He replaced the receiver and looked at the wall. He was awake and he was an artist!

Copyright Mark Devlin July 30 2001

United Nation

I had an interest in recording from an early age. When I went to Japan I was able to build up a small home studio in my apartment in Iidabashi. Based around a Macintosh Quadra 950 , I bought an 8-track Pro Tools II system from the U.S. which cost over $10,000 and set it up with — for that time — a massive 25MB hard drive.

Most backing tracks were made on Cubase recording software using an Ensoniq sampler and keyboard and my Fender Flame guitar. My prized possessions were a Neumann U87 microphone (which was stolen) and a Drawmer 1960 valve compressor.

Together with Chris Hall we recorded five songs using the system. Chris wrote the music and most of the words and played the guitar. I programmed the drums and the keyboards and worked up the extra arrangements, and some guitar overdubs too.

Unfortunately, we didn’t have any connections in Japan and the rest of the world was very far away so our songs didn’t get much exposure, and time moved on. I’d love to re-record these with new technology one day.

Sadly, Chris passed away in 2010. In my humble opinion, these songs, especially I Pledge Allegiance, are a testament to his talent.

https://soundcloud.com/sparkzilla/i-pledge-allegiance-remaster

Fear of Flying

They were stuck on that damn island with no way to get off. A horrible, horrible maze of a place with the threat of danger all around. Months of work, finally finished and now they couldn’t get home.

Of course, it was dad’s idea to come here. Lured by the prospect of easy money and the promise of glory his inventor’s  mind had gone into overdrive. Was he a genius? Or a madman? I wondered if all he wanted was for us to go down in history.

Mum was right, we should never have got involved with that bullheaded prick in the first place. The project had gone on far too long and, this was how we got paid. Death threats! I suppose I was too young to question the danger. They always said I was too young and high-spirited. Blah! Blah! Blah! I just kept those thoughts to myself, as usual. But now I knew the worst was coming.

The worst had come: Dad wanted us to fly out. I had seen it in a dream. The same dream over and over, ever since I can remember. We were running, then flying, soaring towards the sun. And then, falling, always in silence. Not fear for flying –fear of falling.

It didn’t help that my father knew I was terrified. He was such an optimist. “Listen, Ike,” dad said, “I know you are tired. I am too. But it’s  the only way out of this place.” His old eyes were strong as ever. But all I could do was mumble over and over “This is the end.”

So I was caught between a rock (in the ocean) and a hard place. There really was no other way. Dad arranged everything and made sure that I was as secure as possible. I even saw a tear slide down his check as he strapped me in. “It’s not far,” he said looking out over the ocean. “We won’t go too high or low. You should be able to see the sea at all times.” But I wasn’t really listening, I was staring into the dream, its premonition reverberating through my spine.

We were running, then flying, then soaring. I finally managed to exhale: we were in the sky. Old fears were cast off like old skins as I sped between the gods of the sea and the sun. This was great. The pain of our island hell seemed so far behind us. I forgot about home, mum, the island. I forgot about dad. He seemed far below me now. I had found my space.

I lost sight of the sea. I was going for the sun. I’d waited my whole damn life just to make that flight. And as the wax melted and the feathers blew in the wind I thought “Well Icarus, isn’t this ironic.”

Big in Japan

With £400 pounds in his pocket, Mark Devlin left Scotland for the Far East. So how did he get from there to being publisher of one of his adopted home’s prominent English language publications? Billy Adams reports.

Reprinted with permission from Business A.M. 
Scottish Business and Finance newspaper (now out of print)

December 11, 2002


It all started with a bunch of clapped-out tape recorders. A university lecturer was about to throw them in the bin when a young student with an entrepreneurial streak spotted his chance.

“I just spray-painted them and did them up,” says Mark Devlin, who literally pocketed the £400 proceeds before getting on a one-way flight bound for a new life in Japan.

Fast forward thirteen years and Devlin is checking the cover of the latest issue of a magazine he runs in down town Tokyo. A nearby computer screen displays an online service he believes will be the first to truly tell the world about Japan.

It’s a long way from his first experience of a city that had never encountered Scottish bank notes. “When I first got here, the cash I got from the tape recorders was all I had,” he says. “And half of it was Scottish notes. There was a bit of a scene at the bank. The staff had these big books out with all the world’s currencies on them. But there was nothing Scottish. So I had to phone my girlfriend back home to tell her I could only use £200.”

Mary McQueen-Molloy could have thrown the begging bowl back in her boyfriend’s face, but instead chose to leave her job in London to join him for a holiday that is still not over. The seed for their love affair with Japan was sown in a university engineering course that pointed to the country as the god of all things mechanical. Japanese night classes followed. “Then one day one of the guys on the course said he was going there to teach English and I thought that was cool,” says Devlin.

He also started out teaching before “blagging” a computer job which led to a more senior technology position at Jardine Fleming Securities. McQueen-Molloy, meanwhile worked as an IT consultant. But the nine-to-five lifestyle did not appeal, and when a man Devlin met in a club said he wanted to start an English language paper for classifieds adverts, the Scottish couple jumped on board. “If people wanted to get stuff in Tokyo, they had to find notice boards in places such as supermarkets,” says Devlin. “And that was just a pain.”

It was 1993, long before the arrival of the Internet, English language newspapers had not exploited the market and the only other English publication, Tokyo Journal, was monthly. The market seemed wide open.

And the enterprising gaijin soon discovered why. The Japanese were not familiar with the idea of classifieds. “There is no real second-hand market in Tokyo,” says Devlin. “People just throw things away. I got my stereo from the side of the street, and it is a very good one.” The idea of a free magazine also presented problems. “They kept asking us how we were going to make money.”

The lifeline came in the form of expatriate community of more than 100,000. The first edition of Tokyo Classified was made up of adverts from shop notice boards printed on a four-page folded sheet of paper. The couple simply handed out copies in the street. It was a tough baptism. Six months in, with the company losing money, the founder announced he was quitting. But the Devlins, encouraged by the level of interest in a growing magazine, decided to fight on and bought him out.

From those humble beginnings, it has steadily grown to a glossy 64-page now distributed around Tokyo each Friday. Features, reviews and listings dominate a publication which, with an audited circulation of more than 30,000, has become one of the most prominent English language publications in Tokyo. These days it also goes under a different name, Metropolis.

“We changed it because people would be coming here and finding that the biggest English magazine was called the Tokyo Classified,” explains Devlin. “That didn’t say much about one of the world’s most exciting cities. Metropolis gives a much better impression.”

Metropolis is one arm of the couple’s company, Crisscross, which employs about thirty staff. Replying purely on advertising income, Devlin says McQueen-Molloy, (36) from Uddingston in Lanarkshire, is the sales brain behind the magazine’s success. While she pitches to advertisers, he takes a back seat role, sometimes checking the front-page picture, checking the weekly schedule.

The couple met on their first day at Strathclyde University. They have now been married for seven years. Their son, Aran, was born in Tokyo six months ago. Apparently comfortable and content in their adopted homeland, there are no plans to return home.

“I look up Scottish property websites about once every two weeks and I have a little dream of buying something there,” says Devlin, who spent his childhood in Irvine in Ayrshire.

“But this place has a real energy. The last time I returned to Tokyo after a holiday in Scotland I was so happy to be back. Even in that short time, Tokyo had changed. I took a walk down the street and it seemed like new buildings had gone up. Scotland’s a great place but there’s a real energy here. And we’ve still got a bit of work to do.”

His time and enthusiasm are reserved for an online venture launched just as the needle was thrust into the technology bubble in 2000. Japan Today, an online news service and business directory delivered in English, kicked off with a team of ten experienced journalists running the operation.

But, as confidence disappeared from the dot com sector, so too did investors. Today the project survives thanks to five angel investors who have stuck with the company. The operation still runs at a small loss but has been drastically slimmed down. Only two editors are required to operate a system that is almost fully automated. Annual company turnover is ¥300m (£1.5m), according to Devlin, with profit margins about 5%. Ambitions to raise those figures hinge largely on plans for the near future.

With a strong base of small and medium-sized advertisers, Crisscross is embarking on a concentrated push to entice more large companies. Devlin remains more than optimistic about the long-term prospects. Japan Today attracts more than 300,000 unique visitors each month using a business model Devlin says is more effective and cost-efficient than its predecessor.

He arrived in Japan just before the economy hit the floor a decade ago and believes that his company will grow stronger from the dot com clear-out. “The Japanese market is huge,” he says. “Our research shows that there are over 10m people worldwide on the Internet who have an interest in Japan. That’s a market we hope we can take full advantage of.”

Patrick Bommarito: Where is the love?

This week I heard of the death of Patrick Bommarito, DJ, and long-term Tokyo resident. I had met Patrick only a few times over the years. The first time his reputation as an abrasive, highly outspoken AIDS activist preceded him. He had contracted AIDS in the early 90s and, after coming to Japan and seeing a lack of knowledge here, had decided to educate the country about the disease. It is little consolation that Patrick outlasted AIDS – he did not die of the disease. Continue reading “Patrick Bommarito: Where is the love?”

My Kickstarter Project Sucks

No really, I’ve tried to deny it for too long now. I’m afraid I have to burst my own well-constructed bubble and face the truth. Despite much gnashing of teeth, beating of breasts, rolling in dirt, and rending of garments, after four whole days slog I’ve managed to raise $1 for my project. It looks suspiciously like a dead parrot – it has ceased to be.

It’s not because it’s a bad product. When I talk to people one-on-one about it they get it and are excited about it – I can tell by the glazed eyes and the drool. When I tell them it could be the next Facebook they don’t laugh in my face. But I guess being the next $100 billion project is just not good enough for some people.

But let’s take a step back, to a time when hope ran free in the meadow – last week. Continue reading “My Kickstarter Project Sucks”