Miehiä ilman naisia

How many hidden, quiet but charming bars with good selection of vinyls are there in Japan?

After (very excitedly) reading too many of his novels, I had had to find out that Haruki Murakami had started to repeat himself, rely on his witty style of writing and having the same characters slowly move from one book to another with the same background music and the same atmosphere, just changing the names every now and then.
That's why I was so happy to bump into a collection of short stories by him. I was expecting snippets of different moods and moments, wind of inspiration blowing or something, at least something fresh and fun! To me short stories are like that - they don't need to be serious as they are short and meant to be read rather quickly and with an ice cream in one hand. Once again I had to be dissapointed. It was the already familiar melancholic, dreamy and flowy mood which didn't really have a focus, and the repetition of themes again and again, greeting me like an old friend.

I have to be clear: I dont need books to be full action from cover to cover, and neither do I hate slow, unclear or plotless stories. It's the slowness of action or the lack of it that makes my brain go wild, and that happened with "Kafka on the shore" as well. But a book should be something more than what the writer thinks is 'pretty cool imaginary image' for a second, it should make me think or feel something (other than irritation..), which in the best case scenario is new and opens us up to more new thoughts. And no, I do like repetition as well until some point, but I think no one, and especially an artist, should let themselves stay only in the one place they feel comfortable (and well-marketed) in. They should think of me, the reader, who is booooooored!

This is how they go: The narrator (whom lets themselves to be very distant to us) tells a story about another character, which is always "very typical" "shockingly ordinary", "colourless in a weird, natural way" and whatnot (as if bland would be the new black). Then there are humble mentions of music in the car stereos, something about birds or trains or small, unnoticeable bar behind the art museum, a bit of ordinary, yet weirdly pleasing, slow sex, a mind-twisting weird but sweet conversation afterwards (many times including the woman-person telling how beautiful is the narrator-male-persons cock), some lonely cup-noodle eating behind a raindrop-stained window thinking about the person (the one our distant narrator wants to talk about), and an ending with no real thought to even explain why this had to be read. The same concept comes so familiar I honestly could make a drinking game of his books. (hmm!)

I mean I understand he wants to use motifs, but as there is no side-story hidden, no added metaphoras, and, at least what I gather, no symbolic value which would add depht to the bland story, it seems a bit pretentious.

And yes, Murakami's style is noticeable and the stories with their glimpses of magical realism very easy to read and follow, but unfortunately I think more than two or three of his books are already too much. It just doesn't go anywhere.
I would be happy to hear some differing opinions or explanations about this repetitivness, though. It's a shame to get bored of something you've really liked.