Wynn Yamami is the current artist in residence at the College. Hailing from New York City, he is a pianist, composer, percussionist and taiko drummer. He and I are sitting in the Pugh Community room--he as the amused interviewee and I as the bewildered reporter.

"So. Can you tell me what exactly your songs are about? I don't understand...." I say. I had called him back for a second interview after watching a video clip of his band, happyfunsmile. In the outlandish video, seven people in a bar in Chinatown are wearing mismatched Japanese costumes as they perform, although one man looks out of place, donning a business suit and performing a fiddle tune on a banjo. Yamami is standing slightly off-center in a bright purple kimono, clanging on a portable drum set one minute and working a tune on an accordion the next.

In a previous interview, he had described the group to me as a fun party band that played popular Japanese music genres. "For you," he says, "it's probably like listening to Johnny Mathis or over-the-top sentimental songs that are almost too cheesy to listen to, but enjoyable for the same reason."

Perhaps his music is more accurately described as that of Johnny Mathis' adopted cousin twice removed. To me, the music is like a hyped-up Japanese rendition of klezmer music.

I think, "How does one go from being the urban postmodernist to completely...." You see, the Yamami sitting in front of me is the "exemplary" New Yorker.

He is wearing the Manhattan look, dressed in neat black from shoulder down. His glasses have square, black, retro-style rims, and they remind me of the browline specs that Malcom X sported in the 50s. There is something absolutely, intrinsically artsy about him that exudes the sophisticated vibe of the New York music scene.

He tries to explain.

"We're pooling from a couple of different traditions, so we probably do give off that ridiculous vibe to a lot of viewers...but if people know the chindon'ya tradition and the Obon festival, they'll see where we're fitting exactly into the musical genres and the event."

I am intrigued, but I must have given him a perplexed look, because he continues: "[Chindon'ya] was a means of getting people's attention and advertising the opening of a restaurant, a panchinko parlor, or any kind of a store. So they would use exaggerated comic versions of kabuki characters and also comic versions of popular stars from the silent film era--so you would see chindon'ya performers dressing up like Charlie Chaplin. That's where we fit in. That's why we're wearing that kind of costume and I have that crazy, purple kimono."

"Your bio says that you are in five billion different bands," I say, purposely exaggerating and inviting him to elaborate.

According to his website, Yamami not only leads the Japanese street music group happyfunsmile but also the experimental trio KIOKU, and he performs regularly with Soh Daiko, the Tachibana Dance Group and the Japanese gypsy rock group Kagero.

He lets out a laugh. "Well as you saw, happyfunsmile fits one particular niche--it's kind of that rambunctious, exuberant, joyful performance...whereas KIOKU is avant-garde, more modern....It's wonderful playing with different people, and it's all about the different relationships we have with each other."

At the College, Yamami teaches a taiko class that incorporates both a critical study of the instrument and tradition through readings and also a hands-on approach with the drum that allows the students to "feel the embodiment that is required to play taiko."

So given all this, I ask Yamami at the end of the interview to envision a hypothetical scenario: "Twenty years from now, you're stuck on a remote island that's been hit with a depression. If there was a job shortage and the totalitarian government there was rationing out jobs, which would you choose: a job teaching music theory to jocks or a band gig where you were paid in coconuts?" I want to see which he loves more: teaching or playing with the band.

He won't give me a straight answer, but perhaps his answer to an earlier question reflects his thoughts.

"You know, I love the college university setting--it's a space where people spend time thinking and examining different things. So it's a really special environment. So, to answer your question, I do want to end up teaching full-time within the college university system."

"Ideally, I'd like to keep the bands going, because I feel like being an active performer helps with the research and gives you a sense of understanding about other performers and perhaps gives you more of a sympathetic eye when you're critiquing other people," Yamami explains. "If you have performed yourself you might have a little bit of an understanding of what it is and what it means to put yourself out there. And, of course, thinking about things and examining things will help your performance, so I'm trying to keep both aspects, both activities, in my life."