Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower - an hour spent in Shinjuku

Much of today has been taken up with work at the British Embassy and an organised trip with the other delegates to see Kasabian at the Shibuya Ax venue, but I managed to grab a couple of hours of time to myself this morning. Since getting slightly older, I thought some of my courage had disappeared with the firmness of my skin, but somehow, when I'm alone and abroad the 18-year-old in me returns to the fore and my sense of adventure overrides all sense of caution - for which I am grateful. Fortunately, my renewed sense of bravery (and some helpful notes from a friend who lived here for 3 years) sent me into the chaos that is Shinjuku station. In the Forbidden Planet guide book Shinjuku is described as the most "vigorous" part of Tokyo. What they mean by "vigorous," I have no idea. However, it is the largest and most complicated station I have ever witnessed. To describe it as a maze barely does it justice. Yet, I made it out of the west entrance into the area where all the skyscrapers are and the Tokyo government building, where I travelled up to the 45th floor observation tower. The government building is pretty remarkable: two connected towers, which are dazzling in terms of scale. Designed by Kenzo Tange (a famous Japanese architect), he was also responsible for what I think is the most spectacular building on the Tokyo skyline: the Mode Gakuen Cocoon Building. Apparently he was inspired by Le Courbusier, but I fail to see it.
I came away with a smile on my face, glad that I had managed to negotiate the city and the station alone.
A couple of things amused me today. First of all, on the Ginza tube line, they have carriages for women only. I presumed this was out of decency because women don't like to be shoved around when it's busy, but it later transpired that it prevents women from being felt up by men in the rush hour. Whether that's true or not, I don't know. Japanese men, on first sight, seem extraordinarily polite.
Secondly - and this will only mean something to people who understand the goings on in music copyright - a music publisher was asked today whether the term of copyright on sound recordings in Japan will be extended from 50 to 70 years, similar to the campaign that is currently taking place in the UK (which incidentally I don't agree with). The publisher responded: "In light of the work of Lawrence Lessig, we prefer not to call it "copyright extension" but "copyright harmony". I was the only person in the room to laugh out loud. To me, that sums up the way in which Japanese business is approached. I was pleased, however, that the chap was prepared to acknowledge the inspiring Prof. Lessig, which is far more than anyone in the UK will do.
It was my duty in the evening to accept the free ticket to see Kasabian - the UK swagger rock retro (to coin my own phrase) band, who I can't abide. Yet, all was not lost. It was eye-opening for me to see how young Japanese people react to live, British music. Their enthusiasm was almost infectious. They don't sing along word for word (obviously), instead making general, guttural noises. Nobody smoked (it was a smoking venue), no-one was drinking. Girls came dressed in pink nurses outfits (get a good picture in your head, boys). Every time the singer gave them an order - "raise your hands," "be quiet," they obeyed. Their belongings were stored outside in lockers and there weren't any security people. They filed out, quietly, in order.
I also learnt this evening that Japan has the highest rate of suicide amongst young people, but I've put that down to them watching bands like Kasabian.
Its 1am. I promised myself a trip to the fish market tomorrow - apparently the best time to arrive is 6am. It's not going to happen.