Right under the clock tower in Yoyogi Park, time seems to have stopped, frozen in ’50s Americana. Passers-by can’t help but stop, too, mesmerized by the dance moves of the rockabillies, as if they were rock ‘n’ roll sirens in the sea of people. But they’ll say they neither stopped time nor went back in time — more like they’ve taken the hands out of the clock completely. You don’t need to know what time it is, because rock ‘n’ roll is timeless.
The rockabillies will also tell you that in Japanese, the preferred terms are rock ‘n’ roller, roller-zoku (meaning tribe or family) or, simply, roller. Harajuku has long been an epicenter for non-conformity, a safe haven for those who stand out, a power spot where you can find your people. But before there were kawaii Harajuku girls or strawberry cream crepes, there were Tokyo rockabilies with greased hairdos
