He became a YouTube sensation in his 70s. Fans pilgrimaged to SF to see him.
At the Masonic last Thursday night, an eight-piece band filed onto the stage while the crowd of mostly twenty-somethings joined together in a four-syllable chant: "Ta-ka-na-ka." A few seconds later, the 73-year-old Japanese guitar player Masayoshi Takanaka stepped on stage wearing a bright red suit and black bow tie, and the crowd erupted in a cheer so loud it left my ears ringing later that night.
As Takanaka bursts into the joyous lead guitar lines of "Blue Lagoon," a buoyant and blissfully positive tune off his 1979 album "Jolly Jive," a man next to me screamed out, "He exists! He's real!" For many fans in the audience, this was an example of a TikTok video coming to life. Fans, decked out in aloha shirts and even full red suits in a nod to Takana's style were in such a fervor to pick up merch that a line snaked through the Masonic's basement and up the stairs. One fan brought their own cardboard version of Takanaka's signature surfboard-shaped guitar (but was forced to check it at the entrance).
Takanaka, who sold out the 3,000-capacity Masonic with resale tickets going for upwards of $300, is one of the best examples of a renewed interest in the sounds of 1970s and '80s soft rock from Japan known as city pop. The genre is categorized by a mix of smooth jazz fusion and rock with tropical undertones, and has catapulted into popularity thanks in part to reissues of classic material by labels like Light in the Attic, whose three-part "Pacific Breeze" series includes Takanaka's track "Bamboo Vender."
"I've been listening to him for a couple years," said Luis Merino, who traveled from San Jose for the show. "I know he just blew up on TikTok recently, which is why he's gotten really huge, but I've run into some of his mixes on YouTube. It's just so groovy, so unique. It's a blend of Brazilian, jazz, rock with his guitar. It's very uplifting."
Born in Tokyo in 1953, Takanaka was introduced to bands like the Beatles and the Ventures at an early age, going on to join a band as a teenager that played at U.S. military bases in Japan. A few years later, he joined a group called Sadistic Mika Band, which toured the U.K. as the opening act for Roxy Music in 1975. In 1981, he performed alongside Santana at Yokohama Stadium, and even visited the San Francisco guitar legend at his home, a memory he recounted onstage at the show after covering "Europa (Earth's Cry, Heaven's Smile)."
"A long time ago I remember I went to Santana's house - before you were born," he joked to the notably young crowd.
Despite decades of performing in Japan, this marked his first official U.S. tour, and the joy of his refound success showed. Takanaka played for nearly two hours, a wide smile permanently affixed to his face. Although only a few songs have vocals, it was an entrancing concert experience that exemplified the power of instrumental prowess. His style is effortlessly cool, almost casual compared to other guitar slingers who barrage the listener with swashes of noise and machine gun-style picking. Although there was one crowd-surfer, this was far from head-banging music, more like poolside serenades.
"That's a master at work," said J.D. Lux, one of the rare older fans in attendance here from Oakland. "He showed all the other guitar shredders that you can play at five, and keep going, and leave everybody wanting more. Sometimes you've had enough at a show, but what he's doing, that low-key thing, that vibe is just right for hours of enjoyment."
The crowd screamed in recognition at the intro of nearly every song, as if this 73-year-old guitar virtuoso was a teen pop star. During "Radio Rio," a fan in front of me started recording on a digital camcorder, only to be flagged moments later by security. "Brasilian Skies" resulted in a sing-along - not of the lyrics, but of the guitar melody. On "Blue Curacao," Takanaka broke out a talk box for some retro-futuristic vocals. Another memorable cover was John Williams' theme from "Raiders of the Lost Ark," which Takanaka performed theatrically as he paced along the length of the stage.
Shawn Deherra, a college-aged fan decked out in a red suit who traveled from Arizona, noted his favorite thing about the show: "It's how positive he manages to stay, every single song. It's always just such a great energy that could never be replicated anywhere."
Wearing a bright aloha shirt, Jesse Figuero of Antioch scored last-minute tickets and hoped to hear some songs from Takanaka's 1981 album "The Rainbow Goblins." His wish came true with the closing track "You Can Never Come to This Place" (played on a signature rainbow-painted guitar). He originally stumbled down the city pop rabbit hole via YouTube.
"YouTube has a weird thing of recommending people interesting city pop. I think that's how a lot of people found him. I think the first album I listened to was 'All of Me,' which is a compilation of all his tracks. Seeing the thumbnail of him skydiving giving a thumbs up, it's an iconic image, you have to click on it and listen to that," Figuero said.
After 17 songs, Takanaka walked off the stage to a riotous round of applause, but the audience knew he wasn't done. Slowly a chant began: "Surfboard, surfboard, surfboard!" He emerged a minute later, carrying an oversized red guitar in the shape of a surfboard and ripped through "Jumping Take Off" from the 1983 album "Can I Sing?"
After the encore, Takanaka and his band lined up in front of the stage and took a collective bow as a fan to my left perhaps said it best, calling him "a legend, living and breathing."
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This story was originally published April 14, 2026 at 7:08 PM.