Nowadays, when folks hear Nogizaka, they usually think of the aidoru group Nogizaka 46（乃木坂46）as I do. However, it's also an area in Tokyo that is known as a high-class residential neighbourhood with Nogizaka Station on the Chiyoda Line. I recollect walking through the area as I was making my way from just-as-tony Akasaka to the entertainment district of Roppongi. According to the Wikipedia entry for the subway station, the commercial complex of Tokyo Midtown, as you see above, isn't too far away and I've had my various lunches and dinners there.
But it's not time for an aidoru tune here. Instead, I've got this languid and classy tune by actress/singer Ayumi Ishida（いしだあゆみ）from her 1981 album "Ayumi Ishida". Some months ago, I also profiled another track from the release called "Otokotachi"（おとこたち）which is a convivial and sultry City Pop tune of the time, hinting at some downtown nighttime enjoyment. But with "Nogizaka Melancholy", although it's also a pretty sultry City Pop song (and I've also thrown in the label of Mood Kayo this time around), there is a feeling of higher sophistication and, as the title suggests, some sadness or bitterness with hints given from that uncertain keyboard crash off the top and a clang of an electric guitar. I love the overall classy arrangement but especially there is that wonderful descending passage in the intro from about 11 seconds and the slips of Latin and jazz near the end. It's somewhat Mancini-esque.
As with "Otokotachi", "Nogizaka Melancholy" was written by Tokiko Iwatani（岩谷時子）but this time, the music was provided by singer-songwriter Yoichi Takizawa（滝沢洋一）. Perhaps the hostess in "Otokotachi" has finished her shift at the Roppongi club and schlumps her way to her favourite late-night hole-in-the-wall in Nogizaka where she drowns her sorrows in drink alone while "Nogizaka Melancholy" acts as the soundtrack. Life in the megalopolis, indeed.
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