My trip to Japan may have been organized around “gig tourism,” but it quickly became a manic quest to see and do everything, compounded by the sheer weirdness of this strange land.

And around 12 hours in, my friend Morgan lost her wallet. After a few hours of useless searching, we filed a lost-property report, then met up for drinks with hardcore band Pura Mania, who had just arrived in Tokyo. The Vancouver/Mexico City-based group plays a mix of anthemic Blitz-like Oi! blended with catchy, campy gothic elements reminiscent of the Damned and '80s Spanish punk, and we were popping in on their weeklong tour during which they’d play with a ton of Japanese bands at every show.

“This is maybe the best place to lose a wallet,” one of them said. “It’ll probably get handed in to a police station eventually.” We nodded in hopeful agreement, silently contemplating the social responsibility and community values ingrained in Japan’s citizenry, which force typical Western slobs like us to make a few adjustments to fit in.