Kaoru Abe

A mad saxophonist who placed his entire life on sound, without ornament, without deceit, Kaoru Abe.

From 1968 to 1978, he suddenly appeared in Japan's free jazz scene, only to disappear ten years later. Though brief, those turbulent years marked a turning point for a generation of Japanese musicians who called themselves free, as Abe opened a new path for them.

People called him 'the musician of his own world.' He cared little for the size of his audience or for any kind of critical evaluation. Abe faced sound entirely on his own. He was so self-assured and stubborn about his own tone that it was nearly impossible for him to play with anyone else. On the riverbanks of Yokohama, he would blow his saxophone until his neck bled. He was indifferent to everything but sound itself.

The zine follows the ten years Abe spent with his tenor saxophone, tracing the life of a forgotten legend of free jazz and capturing the raw energy of Tokyo's free jazz cafés of the 1970s in Shinjuku and Ginza. It also includes excerpts from an unpublished 1973 conversation with Abe and Shinto, recorded in a small, worn-out coffee shop in Shinjuku. The dialogue once meant for print, but ultimately remained as an unreleased tape.

Zine, 28 pages, 148 x 210 mm, text in English and Japanese. Text and design by Ganghyeon Paeg. Published by Ningen Paper Press, Seoul, November 2025.