Tomi Kita — Pg 3 of 3

Tomi Kita was born in Seoul to a Korean father and a Kyoto-born mother. His parents had met while studying in Tokyo. The third of five children, Kita was originally named Yoon Jin-Oh. His early interest in music was sparked by one of his two older sisters teaching him piano, but Kita recalls his first instrument as having been his voice. From the age of six he sang on KBS-TV where his uncle worked.

When Kita was ready to start school his father moved his construction business and the family to Guam. Kita took up Taekwondo, winning his black belt by the age of 14. He earned spending money by teaching self-defense to the American women who came to work as strippers and entertainers, as well as to U.S. Marines.

Soon after Kita was initiated into the joys of sex, he bought his first guitar.

“Right after I picked up my guitar,” recalls Kita, “three months later, I joined this band. We were the only kids playing rock and roll on the island. We were playing all over the clubs, getting paid a lot of money. I started making money at 14. My parents were upset. They had a hard time accepting me because I had long hair. I was rebellious, but not in a negative way. It was a natural thing that happened in my journey of life.

“My first experience with the audience was in Guam. It was a certain energy. When I stepped on that stage and when I looked out and saw all these people in front of me, I felt a certain communication between the audience and myself. That’s when I knew I wanted to do this.”

With Beast, his first band, Kita was already performing in auditoriums of 5,000. He also played with an expatriate Sacramento band called the City Kids which later returned to California and became a recognized success as Tesla. On Guam Kita was a local celebrity who appeared regularly on TV. His first serious girlfriend, whom Kita calls his first love, was Patty Kirkus, a half-Korean, half-Greek girl who went on to win the 1982 Miss Universe title. She gave Kita his first Fender Stratocaster. He still considers her one of the most important relationships of his life.

Another important early attachment developed when Kita joined a Korean gang. He became best friends with an older member. “I learned a lot from him,” says Kita.

After moving to California Kita experienced the inevitable letdown of being just another new kid in school, in his case, at James Monroe High in the San Fernando Valley.

“First week I came out, I realized I was nobody,” recalls Kita. “I had a hard time because I wasn’t used to that. It humbled me. I didn’t have any friends. I was the only Asian and back then no one else had long hair.” With hopes of becoming a martial arts actor, he began training alone in the gym and took a drama class.

Literature wasn’t one of Kita’s favorite subjects, but he acquired a taste for poetry from a girl he met soon after moving here. “She liked to do a lot of reading,” recalls Kita. “She was also an artist who did a lot of paintings of me. She was very much into me as a human being. She motivated me.” Kita began writing poems and songs though he didn’t start singing them until he was 23.

There was a three-year period in the beginning when Kita’s life was divided between Guam and the States. Ultimately, at the age of 17, he decided that his musical career would have to be built here.

“The only reason I came out here was to make it in music,” says Kita, somewhat contradicting his earlier statement. He joined an Orange County hard rock band called Darkness after seeing an ad for a guitar player in The Recycler. Later he moved to a heavy metal band called Titan. When he was 18 or 19 he started Kita, his own band. After Kita dissolved he joined Max Havoc which enjoyed notable success in the LA heavy-metal scene.

“They were all like biker types,” recalls Kita of fellow Max Havoc members, “long hair, Harley-Davidsons.” To fit in Kita cultivated a Native American look. By the time he was 23 he tired of being a guitar player and being pigeonholed into the heavy metal category. He concentrated on writing and singing material that reflected his own impulses. Kita believes that by following his own path, he can create a sound with far more universal appeal than heavy metal.

Kita’s career as a student at Pierce College lasted about two weeks. Sensing that a highly developed ability to project character would be helpful in building a career as a multimedia sensation, Kita started with the thought of studying acting. Unfortunately, he had a hard time working up an interest in the required academic courses.

Tomi Kita is now immersed in making himself into a media product. Kim Fowley helped produce his demo tape. Fowley’s assessment of his chances of success means a great deal to Kita. “He strongly believes in my future because I’m Asian, I’m the first one. Being an Asian male motivates me because I feel different and I like being different. Now I’m starting to see that I want to play this role because being Asian is a beautiful thing, a special thing. The world isn’t saturated with Asians. I don’t see a lot of negative energy but when I do, I use it in a positive way.”

In Kita’s case race may prove an asset, but a real obstacle to getting air play is the radio stations’ need to plug artists into established formats. “A lot of people don’t understand what I’m doing,” says Kita with a hint of complaint. “Europeans understand my stuff better than Americans. We’re getting so much reaction from Europe now. They compare me with Peter Murphy and David Bowie.”

Not having a live band/act, Kita is concentrating on video as the way to promote himself. He cites Michael Jackson and Billy Idol as two more whose success he would like to emulate. Kita’s emergence coincides with a bad slump in the music market. “No one is doing anything in this town,” he says. “Right now all the action is in Seattle.” At the time of our interview Kita was speaking with a couple of producers who had flown out from New York to meet with him.

It’s hard not to admire the cool self-possession of this 25-year-old. Kita has taken charge of his own media machinery without a protective manager on his side. He has also set his life on a course no other Asian American has yet successfully negotiated. He is a pioneer.

“I do know one thing,” says Kita when asked about his willingness to put himself out there. “No matter what, I have one thing and that’s my pride as a human being. Money’s nice, but if I don’t have it I’ll still be happy. There are people who are always trying to build an empire. We come here naked and we’re leaving naked. In the end we’re all going to go naked.”

Even a Tomi Kita must have his fears. For example, I know he has a dread of being thought uncool from the iciness with which he condemns Summer of “geeking out” by repeatedly saying, “I’m stoned” during an earlier night’s party. I ask Kita what other fears plague him.

“I’m afraid of eating my own father,” he says after a moment of thought. I take that in a metaphorical sense, of course, though one can’t be absolutely sure with a guy like Tomi Kita. I push him for something a little more quotidian.

“I’m afraid of love,” he offers after some soul-searching. “I think love comes to me every ten years in my life and it stays with me for a very very long time. I still feel the person I was in love with ten years ago. Miss Guam. Right now I am in love with a girl from Sweden, but I know that we’re not going to be together. I was with her for about a year. She found god, found religion. It was her way or me going my way. She felt she didn’t care about anything else except giving herself to god.”

I can’t help wondering what role Kita played driving her to embrace religion. It doesn’t take a runaway imagination to see something of the devil in Kita’s blend of cool self-possession and infernal sexuality. My imagination gets another boost when, a few days later, he coolly tells me about a former girlfriend, a beautiful girl who had just bought a brand-new Mercedes. She stopped her Benz on Highway 101 near downtown and threw herself into oncoming traffic. What gave me the creeps was the message the girl had left on his answering machine the day before her suicide: “Have a nice life.”

I’m not suggesting Tomi Kita possesses satanic powers. What he does seem to have is a talent for igniting people’s imaginations. In the end that may be his most valuable weapon in the crusade to set the world on fire.