A Eulogy

Tamakyu is alas no more. After more than five decades of resiliance, defying the bombs of war and the contemporary ogres of corporate wealth and the insatiable appetite of the developers, it has finally thrown in the towel. For lovers of fine food and drink, it is no major loss. But for those who like to cheer on the little guy, the underdog who refuses to be bought out or intimidated, this signals the end of an era.

Tamakyu's place in the izakaya Hall of Fame rested solely on its bloody-mindedness. In the 1970s and early 1980s, when the mighty Tokyu Corporation was hoovering up huge tracts of prime Shibuya real estate, it alone dared to hold out as all around other old-time, pre-war shops were falling to the wrecker's ball. Despite being surrounded on three sides by the looming walls of 109, a trendy, multi-story mall, Tamakyu not only endured, it thrived -- an in-your face reminder of what most of Shibuya used to look like just one generation ago.

You didn't go there for the architecture or ambiance. Tamakyu was little more than a drafty wooden shack, framed beneath a spreading tree growing out of a yard the size of an oshibori. The sake was generic, the welcome less than overwhelming for those who were not regulars, and the prices (all unlisted) always higher than you expected. But that really didn't matter. To hoist a drink was to thumb your nose at the trashy modern consumerism that has taken over the area.

A nice new Tamakyu building is slated to be built on the same spot. It's likely to be far more comfortable and appealing. But it just won't be the same. And nor will Shibuya.

-- Robbie Swinnerton