From Harajuku with Love: Haruka Hirata of Big Love Records.
Tokyo is an amalgamation of plenty of niches and communities, whether it be for music, fashion, art, or cinema. The average person thrives in this environment as much as the lifelong devoted cinephile or fashion lover. This big puzzle fully shapes the direction of the rest of the world when it comes to culture, so it is to say these spaces are essential. One of the contributing factors is the legendary record store, Big Love Records.
Starting out in the early 2000s, Big Love Records has since dominated Harajuku with its huge impact on music internationally. Every artist and musician coming from overseas makes a point to stop through, pushing forward the Big Love legacy, and rightfully so: Big Love Records has put plenty of underground artists on the radar, and their gift to contemporary music is undeniable. Back then, when no one had the English band The xx in their sight, Big Love already had them in store and put them in the spotlight.
What started the fascination with this independent Harajuku-based records store was its mastery: think about its gateway for underground music, as well as its integration of art, and anecdotally, beer. A few years ago, the Big Love Records logo was on everybody’s sweatshirt, so you may have already had contact with its trailblazing effect. But, true to their musical DNA, it was never about the popularity of their merch, and they even go as far to ask people not to tag them in merchandise pictures on their Instagram.
Big Love Records is run by the effortless Haruka Hirata. Growing up far from the beaten path, Hirata is the epitome of authenticity. Her fans are found in all corners of the world: her sharpness and veracity make her an icon. She is in charge of all of the branding of the store, as well the PR of GR8, and Naka, her ex-husband, who runs the music side, divinely creates a selection of new records that can only be found at Big Love.
There is no fluff about Big Love Records - it’s a place for legends and true record lovers. In fact, the record store had intimate ties with the American artist Cali DeWitt before he boomed as a world-renown artist. DeWitt designed their distinctive Old English font logo before getting a call from Kanye West to design merchandise for his famed album, The Life of Pablo. This anecdote represents well what Big Love Records does: it sets the tone for what’s next.
Big Love is reverent to the world of music and emphasizes what’s up-and-coming, as this is fuel for the next generations, and people respect this. Newcomers and hardcore record fanatics come for its timeless essence and leave with a brand-new album under their arms. The rules of the store are clear: come in with a purchase in mind, don’t stroll aimlessly, and everyone is happy.
Sabukaru’s editor-in-chief, Adrian Bianco, had the opportunity to sit down with Haruka Hirata to talk about the legendary status of the store, life in Tokyo, and Hirata’s diverse field of work.
Can you please introduce yourself to the Sabukaru network?
I’m Haruka Hirata, I’m the co-founder of Big Love Records and I’m also an ikebana artist. I help GR8, the select store in Harajuku, and also help some brands with their branding or co-ordinating stuff. I also make zines, and I do all the merch design together with my artist friend, James Rockin’, who lives in L.A.
Basically, I am the creative director of Big Love and, for the records, my business partner and ex-husband Naka does all the buying. I do love records, and I think I know more about new music than ordinary people. However, I can’t say that I know “everything” about new music. That’s up to Naka.
How would you define or explain Big Love Records to somebody who has never heard of it?
Oh my gosh, it is a community. It’s more than a record store. It’s not a clothing store, it’s not a brand: I think it’s a community.
That’s something very interesting, with you as a creative director that takes care of the merchandise, you did such a great job that your branding became also super famous!
Thank you! [Laughs]
I see cool kids all around the world running around with your tote bags and your shirts. How did you come up with this logo design, and are you aware of how you created a brand almost effortlessly?
So, you know Cali, right? Cali DeWitt.
I searched my email, to find the first time I spoke to Cali. I think it was, like, in 2008 or 2009. We started carrying his label, Teenage Teardrops, and then everything started.
At that point, we didn’t really know that Cali was an artist, we thought he was a label owner, but then, he started showing us his art, and then one of our customers, Chiro, became really good friends with him. She brought him here to have an exhibition, and that was his first solo show, in Tokyo.
And then, maybe, in 2012 or 2013, or was it 2010? Ahh, I can’t remember [laughs]. Anyways, it was around that time when we did his solo show with his famous Plastic Sign series.
In 2013, we asked Cali to do our new logo design, and then in, like, six months or something, Kanye contacted him.
How do you feel about how this community and its iconic logo became such a worldwide thing and that so many people know about it?
Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t care [laughs]. A lot of my friends send me photos whenever someone random is wearing a Big Love Records shirt or carrying a Big Love Records tote bag. I’m like “hmm, cool!” but that’s it.
You also have on your Instagram page, “DON’T TAG US!”, so it probably got too much, and it seems like you would rather have the music communicating and not the clothing.
[Laughs] Yeah, it’s kind of like a joke though, but, still, I don’t want people to just try to get our shirt or our tote bag, but I want it to become a door to start looking into music. Especially records, the physical record that you maybe have never touched, or don’t even know about the idea of what it is. Maybe people don’t even know that it plays music!
Going back to the record store, what is your musical direction with the record store? What kind of records can we find here?
It’s basically Naka’s taste. He started his record label when he was, like, twenty, so it was, in the early nineties. He’s fifty-two right now. He has a great amount of knowledge about records and music because he started listening to music in the eighties. He knows how the music trends go, so he can predict which band is going to be the next [big thing]. We released The XX before their debut.
Wow!
Yeah, they contacted us, and we did one 12-inch. I think it’s so expensive on eBay right now or on Discogs. And, for Ice Age from Copenhagen, we also did a release before their major debut and then we saw them become bigger and bigger.
What are the favorite bands or vinyls that you have in the store right now? Is there anything particular?
Right now, to be honest, [it’s] not my taste, and that’s the good part about the club, you know? *laughs*
I like that, yeah, that’s how I also do the magazine, like when my editors have a topic that I don’t know or Like, I think it’s still very important. otherwise, it’s just my old ass taking care of it, and then we’re stuck in one direction.
It’s not like, I don’t like it, I don’t hate it, it’s just not my taste.
Was the set-up of the store always at the same location, with the coffee shop as well?
Naka started his own label in the 90s and it used to be called Escalator Records. That’s our former label that I wasn’t working at, at the time. They had a shop and their office in Shibuya, and then they moved here to Harajuku around 2001. So, since then, it’s been here forever. He really wanted to start a record store with a cafe space, because his dad owned a cafe in Nagoya. Naka’s from Nagoya, and I’m from Tokyo.
So it’s a serious connection to coffee, not just a random addition.
Yeah, and also craft beer!
Would you say that the record store scene in Tokyo is a big scene, or how else would you describe it?
It’s so small. I was a teenager in the 90s and I hadn’t started listening to records. My older brother is thirteen years older than me and he bought tons of records. He actually used to go to the record shop where Naka used to work part-time in the 90s, and there were tons and tons of record shops in Tokyo then.
When I started working here around 2003, I was in university, I first started working for the cafe actually, not for the record shop or the label. Many, many record shops went bankrupt during those days. Since then, record sales began declining. People started not buying records and even CDs because we had this shift to digital, but I think people love to do the opposite thing. So, then, people started buying records, but second-hand mostly. So if that’s what you want to find, we only have, like, 20 or something second-hand records [in our shop] so, basically, it’s 99% new records in our shop. We only want to do new things and we only want to carry and introduce new records.
Who are the people that usually come to the shop? Is it a spectrum of society or would you say there's a certain type that comes to you?
It’s a niche. It’s a niche business, definitely a niche business. There are always young kids but the percentage I would say is at a 10% ratio. Most [of our customers] are from a grown-up crowd, aged 30 to 60, but I’ve found a lot of older people starting to come back after their kids are grown up. Now they have time and their wives let them buy records because they don't have to spend money on their kids.
How was it for you for the last three years? You didn’t have the international community that could come during the pandemic, did something change in the customers that came or the community at large?
I was so depressed, actually. Speaking of my background, I was born in Tokyo, in Naka-Meguro, and all my family moved to Thessaloniki in Greece for my dad’s job. He used to work at Mitsubishi. I went to an American school in Europe and I was Asian, so it was crazy [laughs].
It was really shocking, but I had the best experience there. Then when I was around ten, I came back to Tokyo, and I really couldn’t fit into Tokyo or Japan. I still can’t really fit in with the Japanese community, because my older brother and sister used to live in London before I was born, so my family is pretty international. I was already different by default, and then I moved to Thessaloniki, and I became even more “different” so I think it was pretty hard for the Japanese kids to understand me or accept me. So, I still have that feeling. Then after starting working here and founding Big Love with Naka, I found this community: music, fashion, and art-related, and I felt so safe.
I was really happy traveling and having my friends here. I really love my friends, just sitting here for ten hours, seriously! It’s so nice to have your friends just staying here like it’s their home. But then, everything had to stop and we were in a lockdown, kind of. I was so scared and I really thought: “Maybe I can’t do anything anymore.” So I started doing some videos on Instagram, that I would never do actually [laughs] but I had to try. Also, we never sell our merchandise online because I want people to come here and buy it unless there's a pop-up at certain shops that we trust. But, we put them online, and now that the borders are kind of opening, my friends are coming back.
I thought I was the only person that got depressed from the pandemic because I always see my friends from the creative community being so energetic. But, when I talk about the pandemic face to face, everyone always says “I was so depressed and scared.” I found out that during the pandemic, we didn’t really speak out honestly about how we felt, because I think we felt that it maybe sounded weak to say: “I’m so depressed, I’m so scared, I don’t know if I can keep my business going, etc.” But now that it’s kind of over, we can speak out and say: “I was so depressed, sad, scared.” It was crazy! I still feel crazy.
What I found super interesting is that the shop is a “slow space”, in a way that time slows down here. With Tokyo being such a fast-paced city, how important do you think it is that you create communities and spaces like this?
Actually, before the pandemic, our opening hours were from 1:00 pm until 10:00 pm. But Naka was like, “Now [that] we’re getting more and more mail orders, and we can communicate with our customers online, maybe we should start our shops' business hours from 4:00 pm and finish around 8:30 pm” because, Japanese people stopped drinking at night. We serve draft beer at our bar space, but we were like: “Maybe let's focus on our lives.” Now that my friends are coming back to Tokyo, they’re all like: “Why are you closed?!” [Laughs] And I get that, I really get that. But, maybe only the weekends [should we stay open].
But, Japanese people are too nice, you know? There’s too much focus on hospitality. We have our own lives. We don’t have to commit our lives to a stranger. They have to follow our rules.
Strangers can be very demanding and invasive. I really like that when we see your Instagram and come to the shop, it communicates: “Don’t fuck around here, be serious.” You come here with a mission. There’s a small sign on the door asking customers to come to the shop with an honest purchase in mind, how did this come together?
So, our logo became really popular, which I’m very aware of. Before the pandemic, people started coming here like as a “go-to spot”.
We have a cafe/bar space, and the tourists started hanging out here with one coffee, for five hours, not buying records - or even merch! Then there were random people and strangers, coming inside, trying on the shirt, then just leaving, or just coming in to use the bathroom.
Those kinds of things started happening, and then during the pandemic, Naka was like: “I really don’t want any more customers.” [laughs] He doesn’t speak English, but he wrote a sign in English, which sounded so arrogant [laughs]. I was like: “Wait! Wait! Wait! Naka! I know what you want to say, so let me just say it, not politely, but in a little bit more of softer way.”
But, we are not a gallery, you know? We are still a serious business.
It’s a serious business, people work here and people should respect that.
Yes, so you have to pay, you have to at least buy something. Well, you can just have coffee, but maybe have another if you’re staying for more than an hour.
We’re going to definitely make sure to tell people if they come here.
You mentioned some pop-ups, events, and galleries, so besides the daily business, what are the cultural and community events that you usually do at Big Love?
We used to put on shows with bands, maybe twice or three times a year. But, during the pandemic, it wasn’t possible and we don’t like Japanese artists. [Laughs] So, we don’t put on shows.
I’m best friends with Shauna from P.A.M - Perks and Mimi - so we usually do an annual collab, like very random, spontaneous, and very organic. We work very closely with GR8. We sometimes have a pop-up at Goodhood in London.
Do you have anything planned for the future? Is there anything upcoming?
There are some brands we are talking to right now, but I can’t say anything about it just yet.
It’s interesting that you also work on the PR and Marketing side at GR8, how do you manage to switch between both worlds? From the high fashion world to the record store world, do you see any synergies or is it completely different?
Not at all, It’s completely different. I hate fashion week [laughs]. I always feel pretty stupid when I see new fashion coming, it’s like, they’re always saying, “we are very sustainable”, or “we focus on not affecting our surroundings, blah blah blah.” Then I’m like: “Okay, then why don’t you not make clothes?”
I see that every day because I’m in charge of taking care of the newsletter at GR8 and I write the intro of the brands, and I have to check on a daily basis with what’s happening and what the brand is about. And, I’m like “Sigh, okay, if you’re sustainable, hmm, maybe just stop?” If they said, “I love clothes! I want to make clothes! And I want everyone to wear my clothes! That’s why I have my brand!” Then I’m like “Hmm, okay!” And sustainability can come as an additional result.
Our merch uses LA based Ecocycle blanks, run by our friend Jakob Deitel. They produce 50% recycled and 50% organic cotton garments. I was surprised by how it’s comfortable and makes you feel safe. Also, the silhouette was what we were looking for. We do care about our responsibility, but that's not the only reason we trust Ecocycle.
I fully agree with this one, and I say this all the time, the world is going down; just let’s not act by buying/consuming; you can make a difference.
What are the differences between the community at GR8 versus the one with Big Love Records?
I think my job is to become the bridge between Big Love and GR8. So, Cali is my best friend and I introduced Cali to the founder Kubo, and from there a lot of things started happening. To be honest, it’s money, you know? I would honestly say. That’s because musicians don’t have money, musicians don't know how to make money. But, if we work with the fashion industry, we can get a budget. I also think that that’s my job.
That’s interesting. Our magazine, Sabukaru, is also culture-based. I see more and more brands that look for places like this: a real place of community and connection. Somehow they try to squeeze that into a marketing campaign, e.g. make a one-minute trailer, and place you in it. How do you feel about big-name brands trying to “get a piece” of this culture to sell their products?
I do get a lot of requests from high-end brands, but I am always very careful not to have anything stolen because they steal everything from us. I only work with brands or someone who’s actually come to the store and bought our stuff secretly, and then, asked me to do modelling for their product or a collab, or whatever. But, if I only see them trying to steal from us, I would just say: “Nope!” [Laughs].
It’s easy to see that you have your own very unique style so how did that build itself up? How did you, Haruka, find your own style?
Well, as I mentioned, I was Asian in Europe going to an American school and I grew up in Naka-Meguro, which is like the heart of Tokyo, so I’m obviously a city girl. My background is… fucked up I would say [laughs]. I was so lonely in Tokyo, so I just read a bunch of books, so I have a lot of knowledge that I’ve taken from books.
I actually couldn’t write kanji as I grew up in Greece, but since I’ve read too many books, I think I can now write more kanji than ordinary people now. That’s where I got my knowledge from.
I also attended Gakushuin, which is the school where the royal family goes, which was also a really interesting experience, my friends came from really wealthy backgrounds with good families, and my brother and sister are both older than me.
My brother tried to show me David Lynch or Hitchcock, those dark movies from when I was five or something, and he started educating me with those kinds of weird stuff, so that’s also in me, and he listened to records, so that was my influence. Fashion-wise, I have no idea.
But it works out.
Somehow, but I think that’s because of GR8. I think, I did love fashion, but, like looking at new fashion, I also check the buying, so whenever I see a new collection or season coming out, I’m like: “Ok, maybe that’s cool!”
We have one ongoing topic in Sabukaru: we started to have many local fans, but obviously, we are almost like a cultural translator or a bridge for foreigners who come to Japan. They enjoy Tokyo, but we try to teach them that there is so much more beyond the surface. What would you say is your advice for people who come here to properly enjoy the city and be mindful of the creative scene that lives here?
So, I think only a small percentage of people here are actually from Tokyo. I think this is very important because most of the Japanese people that you meet here are from other prefectures. So, they’re like, “Coming to New York!” They have this dream, or like, I don’t know, like a goal! They want to become famous or want to start a brand, or a store, or whatever. So, us, the Tokyo natives are kind of laid-back, and we’re, like, just watching those Japanese people running around [laughs].
So, my advice is to find a Tokyo native, the “rare” Tokyo native, who can show you the real Tokyo or tell the truth. I mean, I wasn’t into fashion at all until I was in university. I was so scared to go to Daikanyama [an upscale neighborhood in Tokyo with many boutiques] when I was in high school because I thought I wasn’t cool. So, that’s what the Tokyo natives are. But the people from outside, they’re like “Hey! Yeah! Woah!” [Laughs]. They’re always showing off, and I don’t like that. I can’t say this to many people because they’re mostly not from Tokyo [laughs].
How do you think foreigners can enjoy this city the best? What would be your advice for anyone coming here?
I think this is not possible for everyone, but I want people to visit someone's home. Like, with their parents, you know, like the actual home, to see what it is. That’s what I want them to do, but besides that, I don’t know, because I don’t have any longings.
Another thing is that people think Japanese people are so nice. They’re not nice, they’re pretty rude, but the reason they look nice is that they’re scared that they can’t speak English well. That’s it. Well, there are really nice people, very polite. But don’t just take it for 100%; they’re pretty rude to Japanese people. So, you really have to see what’s going on. It’s all about this English thing.
Many people that follow us are usually in the early stages of their careers. In the fight between following conventional norms and parental expectations and pursuing personal dreams. do you have any advice for young creatives on how to be able to pursue what they like and follow their gut?
I was a teenager when there were no smartphones. But right now, it’s so easy to do everything.
If you want to make music, you can just go on some apps and start making music. You can record your singing so easily, even if you don’t have a mic. If you have a phone, you can easily record it. If you just want to show your personality or your character, just do a video on TikTok or Instagram.
It’s a thousand, ten thousand times easier to become someone than when I was a teenager. So, I would say it’s ridiculous to not do anything.
I like that.
It’s so easy; it’s like [snaps fingers] this. But, at the same time, everyone can do it, so you really have to be special. You can find your speciality by starting. You can’t find it until you start it; you just have to start something.
For example, I started studying Ikebana [traditional Japanese flower arrangements] seven years ago, and I got a master's degree so I can now teach people, but I’m still learning, and I think I’m going to study forever. Now, I’m also in art school, studying 3D sculpting and also drawing. I’m still looking for my artistic medium. Maybe it’s not going to be Ikebana, maybe it's going to be sculpture, I have no idea yet, but I just started! With my Ikebana, I did some jobs with fashion brands and some corporate brands, so if I didn’t start it, maybe I wouldn’t know that I couldn’t work with them. So, just start!
Also, don’t expect that you can be special in a second. You can start in a second but you can’t be a special person in a second.
How do you imagine the next years for Big Love Records? Do you want it to stay like this, or are you in for some transformation?
Next year, 2023, is our 15th anniversary, and we’re actually planning to remodel, at the same location. The interior of our shop is kind of woody with a more natural atmosphere, but I want to make it plain, more simple. Of course, I love this vibe, but we want to make it next level.
Any last words to our audience?
Who are the readers [of sabukaru] The ratio?
20% Japanese, and the rest splits literally [across] the whole world. It’s not Gen-Z targeted, and I’m cool with that because it’s people who have already a bit of a taste, and a mindset that’s a bit more polished with a very keen interest in Japan.
These days, after the pandemic, I feel like we really should respect each other. Even if you went through a lot of things and were suppressed, that doesn’t mean you can act like a king or a queen. You should show support to small businesses. I think it’s such a dumb comment but we really should respect each other.
The reason I’m saying this is because people don’t respect shops or the shop staff, and that’s also happening in Japan as well. Have you ever seen someone being so rude to, for example, izakaya staff?
I worked in retail for a very long time and I know how, you have a smile and the other side has the freedom to whatever expression because they feel like you serve them, but it’s two sides.
Yeah, so we shouldn’t forget to respect and try to understand each other.
I like that; that’s a very strong statement; thank you so much for your time.
Thank you!!
Interview by: Adrian Bianco
Text by : Mizuki Khoury
Photos by: Stefania Lehman
Edits by: Haruka Hirata
