The title may sound more like a pop song than a profession, but elevator girls can still be seen in Tokyo. Not so often. And presumably not nearly so much as many moons ago. But, in this day and age, it’s still a calling that seems strangely archaic.

There are lots of well equipped recording studios in Japan that can be rented out for relatively small fees. Studio/hotel complexes, on the other hand, are understandably less common. And it’s a number that was reduced still further when the Karaway closed its doors and became a haikyo.

Situated in the vicinity of Mount Fuji, the Karaway (a converted ryokan) offered accommodation, plenty of studio space, and a good sized performance/stage area. The perfect spot really for a band to get away, practice and possibly record a few songs. A scene and setting that back in 1983, Random Star clearly made the most of.

The university formed band’s repertoire, among other numbers, included some Loudness cover versions — a heavy metal outfit that also visited the Karaway during its heyday. And, for a bit of a feel for their sound, Crazy Nights, a 1985 single, can be heard here:

Nowadays, however, the Karaway is a very different place. There are no more bands, and definitely no more crazy nights. Not even mildly interesting ones — just reminders of them. Meaning the phone no longer rings.

And the small office merely shows signs of what once went on there.

The slightly unconventional desk perhaps suggesting it wasn’t quite your regular, run-of-the-mill receptionist position.

Condition wise, the building is still in surprisingly good shape — except where wooden parts of the structure have been exposed to the weather — although its age and half empty state do give it a slightly bleak vibe.

Also, vandalism is pretty much restricted to some rock ‘n’ roll damage to a not especially rock ‘n’ roll coffee dispenser.

But what was more noticeable than anything was the silence.

Of course this is something that’s an integral part of all haikyo, as they were once buildings that people lived, stayed or worked in. But just like the abandoned and yet perfectly preserved school, the complete lack of sound was even more of a factor than usual. This time due to the constant reminders of music.

And the instruments that songs were composed on.

Or simply played.

But now sit utterly silent and unused. Making the Karaway a fascinating, yet ultimately quite sad place to walk around.

According to the little note, one of these men will draw passersby a picture that’ll apparently make them happy. But, while that may generate a bit of cash, and be a creative outlet, it clearly can’t compete with the fun a friend and a game of shogi can bring.

Out of the capital and heading north on a weekday morning is a very different experience from travelling on trains within Tokyo. They can be cold. Are nowhere near as regular. And seem to take an age to get anywhere.

But, a huge plus is that they are quiet. Incredibly so at times. Allowing one to observe travellers other than commuters, and wonder where they are going, as well as what they are going for.

Ginza way well be famous for its high-end brands and flagship stores, but sometimes it’s simply about being seen.

Tokyo’s Akihabara district has certainly been given a facelift over recent years, allowing it to further cement its reputation as an otaku mecca of sorts. A shift that, along with fancy new buildings, has also resulted in arguably more maid cafes than regular, run-of-the-mill ones.

But, at its heart, the area is still all about gadgets and their assorted paraphernalia, and as such, the moniker ‘Electric Town’ still holds true. A feature that continues to attract large numbers of tourists and Tokyoites alike.

However, like many parts of the capital, below the surface it’s not as high-tech, or indeed wholesome, as it may first appear.

Music snobbery means that anything other than something by the most obscure of artists can result in one’s choice of new music being subjected to condescending comments — even downright criticism if it’s seen as especially dubious.

Utterly disdainful looks from the disc itself, however, arguably takes things to a new and rather disturbing level.

An extremely large number of Tokyo commuters sit utterly expressionless on the train, their eyes — if they aren’t firmly shut — invariably fixed on a phone or game. But this lady was different. For starters she wasn’t looking down, rather up and off somewhere in the distance. And then there’s her expression, although whether it is one of vexation, or simply contemplation, it’s hard to say.

Like most cities that don’t get a lot of snow, a few centimetres of the white stuff caused all kinds of trouble in Tokyo this week. Trains were delayed. Schools closed. And the TV continually told us how terribly treacherous it was under foot.

But, in older, more traditional Tokyo, rather than chaos it instead created a comforting sense of serenity.

And an absolutely sublime silence.

Most abandoned buildings/haikyo offer something of interest, but the ones that I’m invariably drawn to contain hints of the past; poignant reminders of the lives of those who once lived or worked there. An element that the old enka singer’s house offered with suitably melancholy mystery.

Yet arguably better still are those rarities like the long since closed mountain school — a building so utterly untouched that despite decades of disuse, it still felt occupied.

Neither of those places, however, contained that other mainstay of haikyo: the taking back of the building by mother nature. A feature that, despite offering little else, the SPG House hotel in Yamanashi Prefecture had in abundance.

Possibly because of its location beside one of Mount Fuji’s famous lakes, the dampness throughout the structure — particularly on the ground floor — was staggering.

A problem that has gone way beyond rising, and is now simply all-encompassing. Even its iconic neighbour, bravely clinging to the wall, is now barely recognisable.

Fortunately, despite the decay, there were still a few of those previously mentioned reminders of the past, with the office revealing some of the activity that once went on there.

But all that came to a very abrupt end in 1996, when the business went bankrupt. The last people to check-in and enjoy what by then could have been the SPG’s quite dreary delights, being Shusaku Miyadera and four family members or friends.

Elsewhere, it was simply more signs of the hotel’s fight with the forces of nature.

An unfair contest that has even turned everyday objects into fascinating, initially unrecognisable, forms.

And in the guest rooms, moss in particular has begun to make a move.

Some of it so wonderfully resplendent that it easily manages to outdo many moss gardens.

The serene and yet somehow slightly unsettling sight of a man sleeping in the weak but very welcome winter sun.

Considering the amount of cake and sweets that many Japanese seem to consume, the country really should be adding obesity issues to its long list of concerns — but it’s not. Far from it in fact. Meaning that on the whole, people do indeed have their cake and eat it too.

And, if it’s all as wonderfully fresh as this, then why not?

For many men, myself included, shopping is such a hassle that some sort of military-like planning beforehand can ease the pain. A strategy that, providing there are no rogue shop assistants or unforeseen circumstances, should allow one to go in, make an exceedingly quick purchase, and then exit — immediately. Sanity intact and stress at a (hopefully) manageable level.

Others, however, appear to take the military element to a new and frightening level, modifying the misery into what would appear to be a full-on mission.

Coverage of Japan invariably touches on a variety of regularly trotted out cliches, but arguably one constant is that of a modern, affluent nation. A country that despite its lost decade(s), still benefits from a relatively low unemployment rate, along with an enviably first-class infrastructure.

It’s an approach that admittedly contains a fair bit of truth, but what it also does is brush over the increasing number of people who aren’t aided by any of the above — a large number of whom haven’t done so for quite some time too. And while it’s not difficult to find poverty in many parts of Tokyo (let alone the country as a whole), around Taito-ku, in an area once known as Sanya, it’s starkly and depressingly obvious.

Photographs from this area have appeared on Tokyo Times before — images that are troubling not only in the plight of those featured, but in the potentially voyeuristic element of photographing the dispossessed and homeless in the first place.

It’s an argument that I’ve wrestled with, and one that understandably is often debated on photography sites and forums. But as ethically dubious as such photos can be, with next to no coverage of these problems, both in Japan and elsewhere, it also seems equally questionable not to publish them — even if it is only on a website like this, rather than in a newspaper, or on a site of note.

So here, without further justification or explanation from me, are the rest. All of which were taken in a short space of time, in the space of a few streets.

Looking at him, looking at me, while we both blatantly shoot each other.

Tokyo’s public transportation system really is a thing of wonder, but personally, traveling by bus has never been a pleasant experience; traffic in the city can be pretty awful, plus I’m never completely sure if I’ve boarded the right vehicle or not. This latter problem in particular makes every journey feel like a magical mystery tour of sorts, which in some cases can be quite fun, but not when a specific destination, at a specified time, is the target.

Yet that said, if every journey involved views of lovingly recreated Kenyan mosques and really up close lions like this one, then I’d be inclined to get the bus a bit more often.

Many sights and sounds are fascinating at first. A charm they might well retain for quite some time too. Yet inevitably that initial glow begins to fade, and while they may not exactly become mundane, they do end up getting taken for granted.

Mount Fuji, however, isn’t like that. No matter how many times one sees it, or from how many different angles or locations, it somehow always retains its mystique. Its majesty. Its memorableness.

Plus it’s also accommodating when it comes to photographs, very kindly allowing the viewer to easily capture its splendour. Well, to a certain extent that is, as only the very best can really represent the satisfaction of seeing it for real, whereas the rest of us have to make do with merely passable reproductions.

In the field of technological innovation or adaptation, Japan is often leading the pack, yet in regards gender equality, the country is still very much a luddite. The life expectancy of Japanese women, of course, is second to none, but when it comes to any kind of economic or political parity, they are very much at the wrong end of the scale. In fact, after reaching the dizzy height of 94th in the world according to The Global Gender Gap Report in 2010, Japan has now slipped back to 98th, just about forcing Kenya and Belize to the outer extremities of the top 100.

And yet despite Japan’s woefully low position, it’s clear that things have changed — just very slowly that’s all. A shift that means those young women who came of age this year will enter a world different from the one their mothers and grandmothers ventured into. A world not exactly poles part, but one that does at least offer the option of independence, along with the possibility of heading in a very different direction.

Old tradition.

New attitude?

Or if they aren’t old friends, they are certainly sat on their park bench like bookends.