A UK Deep House Pilgrimage

Freerange Records, Gold Dust Radio, and the Promise to Return

The event flyer. This pink went straight through my brain.

1. Right, I’m Going to the UK

Well, it was not quite as simple a decision as that.

It all started the moment I heard that Freerange Records — my favourite deep house label, and one I have been following for more than 20 years — would be holding its 30th anniversary party at a venue called Herd in the UK. I make deep house music in Tokyo under the name Spinnage, and Freerange has long been one of the labels that shaped my idea of what deep house can be.

The date was 13 June. I had work packed in until the 11th, but if I left Japan on the morning of the 12th, I could just about make it.

The airfare? Somehow, I could manage it.
Time off work? A week should just about be possible.

Before I knew it, I had bought a ticket for the event online. If I missed this chance, the next 40th anniversary would be ten years away. As a listener, as a DJ, and in recent years as a house music producer, this was a rare chance to come into contact with the UK deep house scene I had admired for so long.

This was a pilgrimage.

There was a scene I wanted to touch, people I wanted to meet, even if it meant travelling a long way to get there.

I had to go.

2. The More I Prepared, the More Meaning I Found

These days, preparing for an overseas trip means planning things out with ChatGPT as a sounding board. It remembers everything, turns things into lists, looks things up when I have questions, and for this trip it was genuinely very helpful.

As I spent a month preparing with ChatGPT, which seems to answer almost anything, I naturally began attaching more and more meaning to the journey. The word ‘pilgrimage‘ was one of those meanings.

When we think of pilgrimage in Europe, Santiago de Compostela in Spain — one of the three great Christian pilgrimage destinations — is probably one of the best-known examples. Pilgrims there are said to wear a scallop shell as a sign and symbol of their journey.

So I decided to put a Shell Oil logo sticker on my suitcase — a logo based on the scallop shell, designed by Raymond Loewy. Loewy designed that version of the logo in 1971, which also happens to be the year I was born.

There was meaning in the Shell logo too. The name ‘Shell‘ apparently comes from the rare seashells that Marcus Samuel Sr., often described as the founder of the company, imported from East Asia to London. That business later developed into import and export, and eventually into oil.

The idea of carrying shells from East Asia to London overlapped with my own journey from Japan to the UK. Especially because this time I had chosen Turkish Airlines, changing planes in Istanbul. It felt like retracing an old East–West trade route from the sky. It even overlapped with my own ambition: to send the deep house I make in Tokyo out to Europe, including the UK, and to club scenes around the world.

I bought the logo sticker online.

And so, after a month of layering preparation, meaning and symbols on top of one another, I set off on my pilgrimage at 4:30 in the morning on 12 June 2026.

The scallop shell worn by pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela.

‘Vieira Camino de Santiago.jpg‘ by Retama
Wikimedia Commons - GNU General Public License v2.0 or later

A scallop shell mark on my suitcase.

Shibuya in the early morning. With the summer solstice approaching, it was already quite bright.

My target was the 10:25 flight from Narita, Japan time. I arranged to arrive at Narita at 7:30, three hours before departure.

I had bought one of the very cheap tickets available up to a month in advance, and arrived at Paddington Station on the Heathrow Express.

The clock read 22:52.

The train to Bedford was an EMR service — East Midlands Railway.

3. Bedford: Going to Meet Freerange

Direct flights were far too expensive, but I absolutely had to arrive in the UK on 12 June. So the route I chose was a very narrow path through the eye of a needle: a 10:25am flight from Narita, 13 hours to Istanbul, a 90-minute transfer, then another four hours to London.

Luckily there were no delays. I arrived at London Heathrow on schedule, and reached my hotel near Paddington station a little after 11pm local time on 12 June. Just about in time.

Since this was a pilgrimage to the UK deep house scene, I decided to keep my mind free from unnecessary noise, with an almost pilgrim-like strictness. On the outbound flight I did not watch a single film or TV programme. I either slept or listened to deep house DJ mixes I had downloaded to my phone.

Two Turkish boys sitting next to me were watching the extremely entertaining Interstellar, and also Chainsaw Man – The Movie: Reze Arc, which looked very distracting on the screen, but I resisted. After a flight spent with my eyes narrowed in determination, I was completely exhausted by the time I reached the hotel. I took a shower and went straight to sleep.

After one night at the hotel — about six hours of rest — and another shower, it was finally time to head to Bedford, the town where Herd, the venue for Freerange’s 30th anniversary event, is located. Bedford is north of London, about an hour by train from St Pancras International.

A map of Herd.

After checking in at the hotel, I arrived at Herd in the early evening. I was moving my body to the opening DJ’s deep house — which was already exactly my kind of sound — when I heard a voice behind me say, ‘Hideo! Welcome!‘

It was Jimpster, the boss of Freerange Records and one of the key figures in UK deep house, whom I had been exchanging messages with on Instagram and Echio. He gave me a hug. Beside him was Matt Masters, who has been doing DJ sets for the Freerange Records podcast for more than 20 years, and is also one of the top producers in the scene.

We drank pints and chatted.

The world I had admired was right there in front of me.

Honestly, how was this even reality?

And then, around this point, the photographic record stops.

That is because I suddenly developed a high fever and started shivering badly. It was the worst physical condition I had been in for years. I managed to dance for about three hours, but by around eight or nine in the evening I could barely stand. After Jimpster’s set, which I mostly listened to while sitting down, I decided I could not go on and returned to the hotel.

It was a bitter decision. Not just bitter — almost absurdly, painfully bitter.

I was truly, truly, truly disappointed that I could not stay until the end of the event, which apparently carried on until four in the morning. Even so, I had definitely come into contact with the UK deep house scene I had admired for so long. That, at least, was an enormous thing.

The regret that remained from that night did not turn the trip into a failure. It became homework for the next time I return.

Arrived at Bedford Station. I was still feeling fine around this point.

Then on to Herd, the venue. I had actually made it here.

Me, Matt Masters and Jimpster. Was this a dream?

Philippa, the guest DJ who had come over from Berlin. She also played a lovely set.

A map of Reading

4. Reading: Gold Dust Radio and a Place to Return To

Still running a fever and feeling unwell, I somehow managed to carry my suitcase and make my way to Reading, a town about 30 minutes west of London by train.

Reading, apparently, was once home to Honda’s UK office. But for me, it means the town of Gold Dust Radio, the Reading-based community radio station where I host my monthly house music DJ mix show, Spinnage: Far East Session.

I had been doing the show since September 2025 through a series of connections, and I wanted to strengthen those connections further. So Reading, too, was one of the pilgrimage sites.

There, finally, I was able to meet Deano, the boss of Gold Dust Radio, at a café in Reading. We had exchanged messages on WhatsApp and by email before, but meeting in person really is different.

We are of the same generation, so the conversation flowed naturally. The distance between Tokyo and Reading suddenly felt much shorter. He gave me a cap and T-shirt with the station logo as gifts, and I left after promising him, ‘Next time, I’ll come back to DJ.‘

I made the promise.

So now I have a reason — a context — that means I have to go back. Or perhaps, return.

Arrived at Reading Station. I look pale. Honestly, I really was having a hard time at this point…

A photo with Deano.

The Rosetta Stone.

The back of the Rosetta Stone — an angle you do not often see in reference books. One of the small rewards of seeing the real object in person.

5. London, Revisited

I spent the final two days of the trip at the British Museum and Tate Modern.

I had been to London about four times before on business trips, but because they were business trips, I had never managed to visit either of them. They had remained unfinished business in my life. This was my chance to make up for that.

When I visit museums or galleries, I have a personal rule: one museum or gallery per day. Rather than rushing from place to place, I prefer to spend proper time with one place.

So on Monday, it was the British Museum only. That said, I still was not feeling well, so I did not push myself. I focused only on the things I really wanted to see. Like making a remix by choosing my own story from a huge number of audio stems, I selected a few exhibits from the British Museum’s vast collection — which is impossible to see properly in a single day — and one of them was this:

The Rosetta Stone. The real one.

I had already seen a replica at the Middle Eastern Culture Centre in Mitaka, Tokyo, Japan, so in a way I had done my homework before seeing the real thing, but the real thing had a different sense of weight and thickness. That stone, inscribed with three different scripts, felt full of an ancient desire to communicate something across the boundaries of language and time.

As a child, I was captivated by the United Nations’ World Communications Year in 1983. In Japan, the public broadcaster NHK used YMO’s 'Ishin Denshin / You’ve Got to Help Yourself' as one of its theme songs. That memory went straight through me. The desire to communicate something across boundaries also runs beneath my own house music production. I rediscovered that there.

YMO, 'Ishin Denshin / You’ve Got to Help Yourself'

On Tuesday, I went to Tate Modern. Among the Tate galleries, this one is known for its former power station building, especially the Turbine Hall connecting the two wings. And yes, it really was impressive.

The work that stayed with me most at Tate Modern was Dodgem Shell (2000) by the Mexican artist Minerva Cuevas. It is a work made up of photographs and an actual dodgem car, using the image of fairground bumper cars marked with the logos of major oil companies.

And there, completely unexpectedly, I encountered the scallop motif — the Shell logo — once again.

Of course it left an impression.

Here, though, the Shell logo carried a more critical message. To me, it seemed to make visible the power of oil majors that leave local places behind.

From artworks to mass-produced products, I believe that 99.9999% of ‘things people make‘ contain — or end up containing — some kind of thought or intention. As I took my time looking through Tate’s collection, I found myself thinking about my own music as well.

Ah, I was starting to want to go home and open my DAW again.

By that evening, both my mood and my appetite had finally returned, so I went out for Lebanese food in Reading. The grilled chicken skewer plate was delicious.

Looking back, British food did not seem to involve chicken thighs very often. It was mostly chicken breast. I only had chicken thigh once, the following day at a Vietnamese-run restaurant where I had pho. I remember it very clearly because I was so happy about it.

It is these small differences that make travel interesting.

Tate Modern

The Turbine Hall

Minerva Cuevas
Dodgem Shell, 2000

The ruins of Reading Abbey.

The scallop shell symbol I encountered once again.

Alstroemeria blooming in profusion.

6. The Message a Final Day Can Send

On the final day, all I really had to do was take a bus from in front of Reading station to Heathrow Airport and head home. So in the morning, I visited the ruins of Reading Abbey, one of the town’s sightseeing spots. The ruins apparently date back to the 12th century.

And there, once again, was the scallop motif.

As with Santiago de Compostela, the scallop shell is also a symbol associated with Saint James.

James, Jacob and Jamie all share the same origin. And Jimpster, the Freerange boss I had made this pilgrimage to see, is actually Jamie Odell.

I could not help but smile at that coincidence. The theme of ‘pilgrimage‘ had carried itself all the way to the end of the journey.

In the garden of the Reading Abbey ruins, white alstroemeria flowers were blooming in abundance. How did I find out the name of the flower? I sent the photo to ChatGPT and it told me.

Naturally, I then asked my travel companion, ChatGPT, about the language of alstroemeria. Apparently, it means:

Friendship
Devotion
Mutual support
Long-lasting connection

Come on. That is almost too meaningful.

Receiving a theme that pointed towards the next journey at the very end of this one, I returned from Heathrow to Tokyo via Istanbul.

Oh, and on the way back, I did watch films. I watched Christopher Nolan’s extremely entertaining Inception, as well as Chainsaw Man – The Movie: Reze Arc, which I had been curious about. I slept the rest of the way, and before I knew it, I was back at Tokyo.

7. At the End of the Pilgrimage

There was one item I took with me on this trip but never used.

A USB stick for DJing.

In fact, there had been a chance that I might be able to DJ in Reading if the timing worked out. So I brought it with me, ready for the question, ‘Can you DJ?‘ at any moment.

But I did not use it.

The unused USB stick is not evidence of failure. It remains as unfinished homework for the next time I return.

I had to leave the Freerange 30th anniversary event early because of my poor physical condition, and there were many disappointing moments on the trip. Even so, experiencing the UK deep house scene in person was powerful. And now that I have made a promise to Deano from Gold Dust Radio, next time I want to return to play a DJ set.

To do that, I need to make better music and grow further as a producer.

Now that endless motivation is starting to rise in me, it is about time I got back to making music.

If you would like to hear where this journey leads musically, you can listen to my monthly show Spinnage: Far East Session on Gold Dust Radio, or find my releases and DJ mixes through the links on this site.

The USB stick that never got used.

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