I've been a fan of Japanese popular music for 40 years, and have managed to collect a lot of material during that time. So I decided I wanted to talk about Showa Era music with like-minded fans. My particular era is the 70s and 80s (thus the "kayo kyoku"). The plus part includes a number of songs and artists from the last 30 years and also the early kayo. So, let's talk about New Music, aidoru, City Pop and enka.
Over five years ago, I provided an article regarding a little-known singer by the name of Maiko Nakano（中野麻衣子）and back in 2018, I lamented that I couldn't find much on this singer-songwriter. Well, in the years since, there has been some movement on that front with Discogs showing that she had released at least one album and a couple of singles dating back to 1989 including the topic of that first article, "Chinatown"（チャイナタウン）.
Well, along with "Chinatown" also being included on Nakano's one album from June 1991, "Bay Side Story", I was able to find its track mate, "Imitation Blue". Written by Machiko Ryu（竜真知子）and composed by Ken Sato（佐藤健）, "Imitation Blue" actually precedes the more conventional sophisti-pop of "Chinatown" and it's a little more different in style. For one thing, there is a slightly gloppy technopop thing going for it thanks to one synthesizer but the overall feeling is that of a jazzy time at an old-fashioned faded glory nightclub somewhere in the big city. Maybe there's even a bit of Matt Bianco in the proceedings.
Listening to Nakano, she does have that voice of a jazz chanteuse which makes me wonder whether she did go into that genre later on. But I have just discovered that she is currently running a drinking establishment in Yokohama called Rick's Café according to one blog and she has her own Facebook page. Being a fan of "Casablanca", I wouldn't find tracking down the place myself. It's located within five minutes' walk from Nihon-Odori Station（日本大通り駅）on the Minato Mirai Line, and from the looks of it online, I think that I may have indeed walked by the station.
Recently through videos, news footage and talks with friends, I've noticed that since the last time I was in Tokyo in 2017, the megalopolis has been undergoing changes in certain neighbourhoods. Shibuya has gained at least a couple of more skyscrapers so that I'm worried that it may have cost the area some sky. Toranomon seems to be getting a massive commercial complex and the same may indeed be true for the area surrounding Tokyo Station which has already gotten its fair share of buildings going up like bamboo trees. If and when I get back to the Japanese capital, I may need a new map to find my way around.😕
Still, for the better part of two decades, I considered myself someone of the Tokyo area if not from the city proper since I was actually living in Ichikawa City, Chiba Prefecture. Over the past decade and change being back here in Toronto teaching, translating, and yes, blogging, thanks to YouTube and TV Japan, I've still been seeing my old stomping grounds. Indeed, I still miss walking through the many different parts of Tokyo.
Listening to Yudai Suzuki's（鈴木雄大）"Tokyo Mono"(Someone of Tokyo) which is the final track and the title track for his February 1990 album, I've realized that this could be an ideal theme for my feelings of wistfulness regarding one of the largest cities in the world. Arranged by Kazuo Otani（椎名和夫）, written by Taizo Jinnouchi（ 陣内大蔵）and composed by Suzuki, it's a slow and introspective modern urban waltz. Though I couldn't find the lyrics for "Tokyo Mono", what I could glean is that Suzuki is possibly singing that no matter how much a beloved partner wants change, the protagonist can only change so much and that they can only be who they are. Maybe it's part of the title, but I have to admit that I'm straddling the line on whether "Tokyo Mono" is either a pop ballad or a City Pop ballad but that's why I can throw two genres into its Labels.
I know that Suzuki didn't come up with the song thinking about what lay in store for Tokyo in the following thirty years. However, I think that despite all the changes that have come and will come, Tokyo will remain Tokyo at least for the next little while. For me, I hope that means Tower Records and my favourite neighbourhood tonkatsu restaurant under my old subway station will still be there when I visit.
The above is a photo of a building in Shirokanedai（白金台）, Tokyo. You might say that it's a pretty ritzy neighbourhood. I was there...legally, surprisingly enough...to join a couple of my students for lunch at a French restaurant one day. The area is so refined and expensive that the housewives who reside in Shirokanedai and Shirokane（白金）have been called Shiroganeze（シロガネーゼ）in the familiar way that a native of Milan is called Milanese. I guess, in a way, it's similar to how teen girls in the 1990s wanted to be known as Amurer（アムラー）after their inspiration, music superstar Namie Amuro（安室奈美恵）.
Thus it is here that I can introduce the title "Tokyo Jenne" as sung and composed by Naomi Maki（マキ奈尾美）. The English title has been wisely translated as "Tokyo Parisienne" to show off the title character living the life of a fashionable young lady around town and playing the romance game. Shades of the book "Nantonaku Crystal"（なんとなくクリスタル...Somehow, Crystal） came to mind as I was listening to Yasuo Tsukakoshi's*（塚越靖雄）lyrics.
I first wrote about Maki last fall via her "Aquarius", the track mate to "Tokyo Jenne" on her one-and-only 1986 album"Time, Time After Time". As was the case with "Aquarius", Maki's melody is sophisticated pop in the big city, a good match with the life and times of the Tokyo Parisienne. Enjoy tea in Omotesando, have that French dinner in Ginza, sip cocktails in Akasaka, dance the night away in Roppongi and then sleep it off alone or otherwise in Shirokanedai. As "Tokyo Jenne" might imply, it's never a boring time at night in the megalopolis.
*The lyricist's first and last names have various readings so if anyone can confirm or refute my interpretation of his kanji, please let me know.
No Shirokaneze were harmed in the taking of these photographs.
Well, it's another round of Urban Contemporary Fridays on "Kayo Kyoku Plus", and it's nice that it is the end of the month. The end of March and the beginning of April also signify a new fiscal year in Japan, and that also means that there have been a few changes in the mediasphere in terms of personnel in venues such as NHK and Weathernews Live.
First up is Kingo Hamada's（濱田金吾）"Machi no Dolphin"(Dolphin in Town) from his October 1982 album"midnight cruisin'". I was reading Rocket Brown's own review of Hamada's 4th release and was inspired to write about one of the tracks that I hadn't yet covered on the blog. By the way, you can take a gander at my own thoughts on this through-and-through City Pop album along with the individual articles for the title track and "Mayonaka no Tennis Court"（真夜中のテニスコート）.
As Rocket put it, "Machi no Dolphin" has "...a Latin-inspired disco beat with a simple, yet playful chorus that's fun and catchy." It is indeed very slick and though the lyrics by Kohei Oikawa（及川恒平） merely talk about admiring the stardust in the heavens creating the titular dolphin prancing about with a kid, the overall melody by Hamada himself has the effect of going out on the town and living it up in pre-Bubble Era Tokyo. Saxophonist Jake H. Concepcion is back in the house adding some further happiness to painting the town red as it were. The only thing this song is lacking is a painting of the dolphin in town (or over the town) by either Seizo Watase（わたせせいぞう）or Hiroshi Nagai（永井博）.
Rocket also mentions at the beginning of his album review that "Machi no Dolphin" saw the light of day outside of Japan thanks to Engelwood's Future Funk treatment of it back in 2017. Just a couple of years ago, Engelwood even put out a very resort utopian video for "Crystal Dolphin", so maybe I can hold off any requests to Watase or Nagai.
P.S. July 15th 2024: Charles Cornell has just gone crazy for "Machi no Dolphin" so have a look at his video.
Can't say that I have ever been to Kanazawa City in Ishikawa Prefecture although I've heard all about it. My impression was that it was a resort city but perhaps I mistook it for Karuizawa（軽井沢）. However, Kanazawa is famous for having one of Japan's Three Great Gardens, Kenroku-en（兼六園）which was a place for which I once had a translation assignment years ago, and I've read on Wikipedia that it's famous for its traditional architecture.
Not sure what weather conditions are like in Kanazawa in the fall but Onyanko Club（おニャン子クラブ）aidoru-turned-enka singer Sanae Jounouchi（城之内早苗）had her feelings about the city through her "Kanazawa no Ame" (Kanazawa Rain) which was released as a single in October 1987. Marcos V. was kind enough to first open the Jounouchi file on "Kayo Kyoku Plus" with her first single"Ajisaibashi" (あじさい橋) and then I followed up with her second single"Ryuuhyou no Tegami"（流氷の手紙）.
So I figured that it was natural to come up with her third single, "Kanazawa no Ame". Created by the same songwriters behind her debut single, lyricist Yasushi Akimoto（秋元康）and composer/arranger Akira Mitake（見岳章）, I have to echo in a way what my friend Marcos said about "Ajisaibashi" in that this particular outing by Jounouchi doesn't come across as the prototypical enka tune. For the lack of a better description, it sounds airy and perhaps even somewhat mystical thanks to how those traditional instruments are used. The story behind the song uses the oft-used trope of post-romantic breakup travel with the poor lass riding alone on that train which stops at Karuizawa Station but the way it sounds, it could have been made as a theme tune for "Kimetsu no Yaiba"（鬼滅の刃...Demon Slayer）. Personally speaking, it even feels like some of that languid Fashion Music even got into Mitake's arrangement.
I'm not sure how common it was for an aidoru to make that shift from teenybopper music to serious enka back in the 1980s, but I have to say that Jounouchi was off to a solid start. Nope, her voice obviously didn't have the gravitas of veteran enka singers, but her delivery of "Kanazawa no Ame" can make me forget that she was ever an aidoru.
Earth Wind & Fire have had a lot of different amazing songs but for me, I will always have my triumvirate in the form of "September" (1978), "Boogie Wonderland"(1979) and "Let's Groove" (1981). In fact, I've put the three so tightly together that I am mildly surprised that "Let's Groove" came out more than two years following "Boogie Wonderland".
Coming out in September 1981, apparently it was quite a brave move for EW&F to release "Let's Groove" despite the fact that it was categorized as a post-disco and funk song in the "Disco Sucks" era along with the rise in New Wave. But hey, it was still EW&F! No flies on them...ever!😎
I am still shimmying and shammying in my seat, some 42 years after its release. Moreover, it's been reassuring and thrilling to see a new generation discovering and appreciating Maurice White and the gang. The reaction videos have been fun to watch such as the one by Rob Squad Reactions. All those voices and instruments coming together (including the Hey Horns)! And despite the anti-disco movement at the time, "Let's Groove" still hit No. 3 on US Billboard and No. 7 on Canada's RPM.
I think Japan also adores Earth Wind & Fire in the same way that they've embraced the Carpenters and the Beatles. In fact, there was even an anime-based parody on the song. But anyways, what else was being released in September 1981?
Of all the places, it was on local news channel CP24's news ticker where I found out that Kanagawa Prefecture resident Seiichi Sano（佐野誠一）had been certified by the Guinness Book of World Records as the oldest active male surfer at the age of 89 (there's an article on "The Daily News"). Many congratulations to him and I hope that he does have many more years of hanging ten. Naturally, as the whimsiness within me is wont to do, I just had to start today with an Author's Picks regarding surf-related or at least surf-titled Japanese tunes since on seeing the news scroll by this morning, a number of them popped up in my head.
Over here in Japan, along with the blooming of sakura trees comes graduation season for schools of all levels. Going around town in the month of March, you might enter a sea of strapping suits, brilliant furisode kimonos and anything in between. You may also need to dodge young folks posing in front of random objects, a thick folder containing their prized graduation certificate in hand. The radiating jubilation adds to the semi-festive mood brought on by the hanami season which arrived earlier than usual this year. The earliest it's been, in fact. And yet the trees at my school were noticeably bald when I was part of the aforementioned sea of folk. The lack of pinkish-white petals did nothing to dampen the mood, however, as I completed this important milestone together with wonderful people.
I'm one to mark any occasion with a song or two (or more), so my undergraduate adventures in Saitama are no exception. I had a few months after my last day of school till graduation to mull over it and eventually settled on 6 songs I found significant to my 4-year journey and its conclusion. Some of them I had actually considered for this very event years in advance! As I do, I've decided to put them into a list on KKP and I hope you'll enjoy them. I will also put the lyrics that resonated with me the most from each song and add a little anecdote on why they made the list.
Nemutta machi no sono ue ni(Above the slumbering streets)
Konya no hikaru hitotsu boshi (A star shines tonight)
Oira mo hitori naku monka(I ain't going to cry alone)
Kanashii koto mo ureshii koto mo(In sadness or in happiness)
Ano hoshi to katarou (Let's talk to that star)
It may be strange to say this, but experiencing for the first time the oft-sung-about anguish and longing for home (bokyo) so prevalent in enka was fascinating. Yet, as you'd expect, it was also awful. On a stroll in the quiet countryside one rainy night during the early days I had Hachi's songs in my ears, including the funky "Ano Hoshi to Katarou". Seeing some stars twinkling in the partially cloudy sky, the song never felt so apt. With the thought that someone somewhere out there was watching over me, I was able to rally myself for the long haul.
Shiranai minato de shiriouta (Introduced at an unknown port)
Minna sabishii nagare bana (We're all lonely drifting flowers)
Koyoi mo koko ni tsuki wo mite(Tonight, we'll gaze at the moon again from here)
Ashita ha doko no kishi de saku (Tomorrow, at which shore will we bloom?)
There may be three people, but there is only one brain cell. I would like to think that it belongs to me. So goes the dynamic I have with two friends (Lad A and Lad B) I've had since my first year. We came from vastly different backgrounds and got to know each other in a foreign land, yet they became like my brothers - annoying me, enabling me (and my obsessions), and supporting me. Our paths were set to diverge after graduation, but I believe that we will revert to monke when we get to meet again.
I picked Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan's rendition of "Namida no Sannin Tabi" as I had the chance to enjoy it with the fellas after they insisted we stay for the band's performance one rainy evening last year.
"Dude, I don't know if I'm high but isn't that just your Husbando 1?"
- Lad B upon seeing Hai-Katsu's bromide
Resolve:Ume to Heitai (梅と兵隊) -- Yoshio Tabata
Osu!
Kakugo wo kimeta waga mi demo (I'd made my resolution)
Ume ga ka musebu haru no yo wa(On a night filled with the aroma of plum blossoms)
Ikusa wasurete hito toki wo (Forget the battle for a second)
Katareba tomo yo yukai janaika (Let's chat, buddy. It'll make things better.)
When I came to Japan to study, I had the resolve to do the best I could to honour my own effort in getting into a university in a place I desired and my parents for supporting my decision. A mantra my late grandpa had was also something along the line of, "If you want it, you'll do anything for it." And so, I did. To say it was tough was an understatement, and the last semester had me on the ropes when I piled on graduate school applications on top of a thesis - the enka theme was a life-saver, but geez, no amount of Hibari, Batayan and Muchi (a few of my subjects) could help up to a certain point. Mind you, the thesis was optional and I only did it for me. Despite the madness, pushing through with friends and loved ones along the way made the fight easier. And when the plum blossoms bloomed earlier this year, I crossed the finish line.
"I don't even know why I'm putting myself through this."
Youth: Kirameku no Seiza (燦めく星座) -- Katsuhiko Haida
Naze ni nagare kuru atsui namida yara (Why are there hot tears flowing?)
Kore ga wakasa to iu mono sa tanoshi janaika(This is what youth is all about. Isn't it wonderful?)
Tsuyoi hitai ni hoshi no iro utsushite ikou yo (Let's push forth with a strong forehead shining like the stars)
Having to accept rejection from one of the graduate schools I'd been aiming for was indescribably painful despite the work I put into it and I'd be lying if I said that tears weren't involved. Then "Kirameku Seiza" resurfaced in my music playlist. Introduced by my karaoke Brojiisan some years back, I occasionally gave this pleasant tune by Hai-Katsu a listen, but it was only at this point did I feel the gravity of its words. Facing setbacks and shedding tears are but the joys of youth - it's not the end of the world and there are always other paths, so push on. And so I did.
"Ojiisan no okage de, takusan ii uta wo shi(rimashita). Sono naka de, ichiban suki na no ha 'Kirameku Seiza' to ka 'Onna no Kaikyu' deshou."
Rain:Nagasaki Elegy (長崎エレジー) -- Dick Mine
Kino wo futta ha konokaame(Yesterday fell a light drizzle)
Kyou ha namida no ame ga furu(Today falls my tears)
This one was a bit of a late addition which I added around the time I wrote my article on my favourite ryukoka from the 1930s and 40s. It made the cut because of those two lines highlighted above.
It was a day before the results of successful applicants for another graduate school I'd applied to would be released. It was another I'd been gunning for but the stakes were so much higher - if I got rejected, I'd have little choice but to pack up and leave. It would also have meant that my hardcore push for good grades and creating research proposals would've been for nought. I'd been moping over that very possibility for weeks (in addition to the prior rejection) as I was certain I'd screwed up the interview in the application's second round. The constant rain that day and the forecast of clear skies the next day made the above lines from "Nagasaki Elegy" feel like a bad omen, yet I had it on repeat throughout.
As foretold, the sun finally came out the next day, yet it really did rain. But it was the best rain that had ever fallen. :') I had never rushed down to the karaoke back in Kasumigaseki so quickly until then, and the smile on my Brojiisan's face was as bright as the sun.
"I could just die of relief - I may need an actual ICU :')."
Koishi kokyo wo ato ni shite (Leaving behind my beloved hometown)
Edo de migaita iki to waza (To sharpen my skills and spirit in Edo)
Au mo ureshiya futa oya ni (I'll be happy just to see my parents again)
Ume no hana saku sato no haru (When the plum blossoms bloom in the spring of home)
Ever since I learned the meaning of 'Hare sugata' and read the highlighted stanza, I knew that this tune by Bin-san had to be my graduation day song. I had, indeed, left my hometown for the Greater Tokyo area in the pursuit of academia and personal growth. I did miss family dearly, but I was determined to make myself into something I would deem worthy to show them at the end of it. There's still so much for me to learn, but I'm glad to say that I was satisfied with what I was able to show my parents when they came for my graduation.
It also felt wonderful to say, "Ojiisan, sotsugyoushimashita yo!" (I graduated, gramps!) with grad cert in hand to my Brojiisan, who actually showed up outside my school's front gate as promised. He'd been constantly nagging me to focus on my studies and not be caught up in enka and my ever-growing list of Husbandos. Yet, despite that stoic and grumpy front, he was always there to provide moral support and watched me go through it - from angsting over critical professors to worrying about my future. Many of the songs I know and love now can be attributed to him. He really made my time in Kasumigaseki so much better. I'd written and read out a letter to him on the day itself to express my gratitude and, by golly, that was so hard to get through! While I may not be in that neck of the woods anymore, I'll definitely drop by when I can for regular updates. I'm sure he and the karaoke folk would appreciate that.
That marks the end of this eventful chapter of my life and a new one will begin in a matter of days. I'm terrified but also kind of excited to see where it'll take me. The intention is to continue my research on enka and ryukoka - whether that will be successful or not, I don't know, and I don't know if I've gone in over my head. But I guess I can only wait and see. One thing's for sure, though, there'll surely be songs to mark significant events in the years to come and I'll continue to note them down here on KKP. :)
P.S. Some of these 6 anecdotes do indirectly explain how my Husbando list expanded to 4.5. Yes, there is a 0.5 and I'll allow you to figure out who he is."[N]ever really got past my top 5 and into Husbando territory" - c'mon, Noelle, we know that's a lie. He's definitely already No.5 and you know it.
My first two articles on not-as-well-known aidoru Mia Masuda（増田未亜）centered around her 5th single from May 1990 with "Dengekiteki Romance"（電撃的ロマンス）as the A-side and the B-side being "Ame no Hi no Mikazuki"（雨の日三日月）. At this point, I think I prefer the B-side.
Well, maybe even "Ame no Hi no Mikazuki" has been eclipsed by Masuda's previous single "Happiness Monogatari" (Happiness Story) which had been released a few months earlier in February. There's something especially calming and nostalgic with her delivery here, almost sounding like some of those aidoru tunes in the mid or late 1980s with aidoru such as Yoko Minamino（南野陽子）and Yuki Saito（斉藤由貴）.Machiko Ryu（竜真知子）was responsible for the lyrics while Shuuji Otsuka（大塚修司）took care of the huggable melody which includes those shimmering strings. Maybe it's even reminiscent of Fashion Music...a mix, perhaps which could be labeled Fashion Aidoru or Baroque Aidoru.
Years ago, when I was not only living in Chiba Prefecture but also making the biannual pilgrimages back home here for the Holidays, I made my usual round-trip reservations with Air Canada and got my requested aisle seat. I don't particularly care for squishing my fellow seatmates if I had to get out of a window seat to head to the washroom.
Anyways, I went to Narita Airport and checked in when the staffer at the desk asked me if I would change seats with another passenger. I agreed on condition that I would still be in an aisle seat; she assured me that I would, and even better, I got the aisle seat right near a door which got me plenty of leg room, something that I had to usually and painfully sacrifice during my twelve hours of flight time. I wondered what I'd done to merit that sort of treatment, and knowing that an upgrade to Business class was all but impossible, I think even getting more leg room was a wonderful stroke of luck.
Well, when I finally reached Pearson Airport in Toronto feeling somewhat weary, I went down the stairs into the terminal and at the bottom, there was a young Air Canada staffer just beaming up at me. Feeling a little awkward initially, expressions such as "Honestly, officer, I didn't touch her...really!" popped up in my head, but then the clarity of recognition crashed into my head. The staffer was once my student at the second English-language school that I taught at! It was quite the delightful reunion and she was the one who had seen my name and put me into a better seat. We took the nice slow walk to Immigration as we quickly exchanged information on what we'd been doing in the few years since her graduation from the school.
Hey, teach a few good lessons and the rewards can be bountiful!
I introduced my Air Canada story because I found out that the singer of this song had tried to become a flight attendant for my nation's main air carrier herself. AAAMYYY is known in legal documents as Honami "Amy" Furuhara from Nagano Prefecture, and according to her Wikipedia profile, she was a high school exchange student in Canada in 2008, which led her to the Kanda University of International Studies where she intensely practiced English so that she could train at the flight attendant school for Air Canada in Vancouver.
Well, that didn't quite pan out resulting in a return to Japan, but during her first time in the Great White North, she also gained inspiration to try music thanks to music acts such as M.I.A. and T-Pain. Plus, she did what I had done: become an English conversation teacher in Osaka. But eventually, she let her muse take her into a music career, specifically into electropop with various bands and also as a soloist known as AAAMYYY.
Starting in the mid-2010s, her first releases came out in 2017 with a first album, "Body", being released in 2020. Her second album was "Annihilation" released in August 2021 and one of the tracks was "TAKES TIME". The rhythms fairly thrum throughout accompanied by AAAMYYY's sultry and slightly raspy vocals, and there is this mix of the past and present in technopop as I listen to "TAKES TIME".
I've noticed from her J-Wiki profile that AAAMYYY has worked with folks such as hip-hop artist Ryohu from KANDYTOWN and musician TENDRE. In fact, according to the description under the above YouTube video, the latter was acting as bassist and chorus for "TAKES TIME".
I remember when I first wrote about that band with the unique name, I Re'in For Re'in（アイリーン・フォーリーン）, back in 2020, their J-Wiki article put them down as a pop-rock unit. However, that first KKP article on them, "Private Girl" was definitely more of a groove-laden City Pop tune of the night.
Ah, but this time, that song's track mate from I Re'in For Re'in's (Wow! Three apostrophes in one name.) fourth album from 1988, "Body & Voice", is "Byakuya" (Night Under the Midnight Sun). The song, which was written and composed by band member Takaaki Yasuoka（安岡孝章）, is more in keeping with that pop-rock style that I'd read about. In fact, I'd say that "Byakuya" comes off as a predecessor for all of those songs that were to come in the 1990s by bands such as DEEN and WANDS.
I remember that it was three years ago that the pandemic darkened the shores of every nation on Earth with the warning especially that the elderly should stay indoors as much as possible. To help out my parents, I had to go out into the deserted neighbourhood with the mask to wait some minutes outside the supermarket before I got the say-so to enter and get what I could from limited supplies on the shelves. It was truly a surreal time. Happily, things have markedly improved since then although the economy is still a big worry.
And it was just about at the same time that singer-songwriter Makoto Matsushita（松下誠）had released a BEST compilation "Collection". During an uncertain period where folks were needing to use social media sites to keep themselves entertained, being able to get access to music was probably paramount. "Collection" had a lot of his 1980s City Pop material but there was also some new stuff on the album, and I wrote about one such track a month ago, "Chaos & Harmony" which I considered to be a somewhat avant-pop piece.
Well, another track is "Once You Could See The Light". This one is more conventional but it also has his unusual but appealing qualities. It's almost as if the transporter on the starship Enterprise (I was watching that gruesome scene on "Star Trek: The Motion Picture" with the transporter accident last night) merged some of that City Pop along with that progressive rock that Matsushita has also loved to delve into to create something new...a Moody Pop, so to speak. There is that underlying keyboard rhythm which sounds like it was lifted from Hiroshi Sato's（佐藤博）"Awakening" as the singer croons mysteriously in English with his guitar growling now and then from the shadows.
I can even imagine a cinematic setting that the song evokes. A down-on-their-luck detective walks for hours on the streets of their inner city neighbourhood as afternoon transitions into night. They don't know what kind of predator with a grudge against them is waiting to pounce; they only know that they can probably handle any attack with relative ease and cynicism. Then, once they finally return to the office or home, they can put their copy of "First Light" on the record player and decompress with a tumbler of Jack.
Y'know...when I first saw the name Castle & Gates（キャッスル&ゲイツ）, I thought I was going to be in for a cute crime-solving couple show on Netflix. Well, that is simply not the case. Actually, Castle & Gates was a folk group that lasted between 1965 and 1972 in two incarnations.
The first incarnation consisted of guitarists/vocalists Yoshito Machida（町田義人）and Mamoru Tamura（田村守）who met at a high school reunion in Kochi Prefecture in 1965 and decided to form a folk music duo before Nagasaki native, bassist Kenichi Uechi（上地健一）, joined in 1967. In the same year, a song titled "Ohanashi" (Talk) was created by the trio for a radio program, "Vitalis Folk Village"（バイタリス・フォーク・ビレッジ）, but despite the accolades for it, it was never made into a single record. Tamura was responsible for the melody while Masahiro Endo（遠藤侑宏）* took care of the lyrics.
In fact, Castle & Gates became quite popular on the program but in 1968, it was decided that the group would disband with Machida and Uechi heading over to the Group Sounds band Zoo Nee Voo（ズー・ニー・ヴー）while Tamura found a regular job. Instead of fading into history though, Castle & Gates recruited a new lineup consisting of Mamoru's younger brother Kazuo Tamura（田村和郎）, Kazuhisa Yamashita（山下和久）, Kanao Mizuta（水田奏夫）and Akira Shimazaki（島崎章）.*
"Ohanashi", which had been left in limbo a couple of years earlier, was then finally released as the band's debut single in January 1969, the first of four singles that would be released until their final breakup in 1972. A short but mellow folk song, it's a love invitation from one to another to have a talk for the entire day on anything and anybody under the sun. As long as they are sitting together, everything will be copacetic.
.*Some of the first names of the members have multiple readings so I'm not 100% certain on those. If anyone can confirm the lineups for the band, that would be much appreciated.
When it's so dreary outside, it's wonderful when I hear a song that just sparks off all that ASMR.
And yup, I am talking about the splendid salsa band from Japan, Orquesta De La Luz. From hearing their material and seeing them perform with their joie de vivre, the well-named Orchestra of the Light got me to buy their 2nd album"Salsa No Tiene Frontera" from 1991. And from that album, I present to you "El Me Ama, Yo Le Amo" (He Loves Me, I Love Him).
Beginning with something that sounds like 1990s City Pop balladry, there is no doubt that Orquesta De La Luz will go into their familiar dance-triggering (or at least shoulder-shimmying in my seat) salsa rhythms. It's been such a long time since I've heard this one that getting my aural reunion brought me back to first-time listening status. By the way, "Salsa No Tiene Frontera" also has a track that I first wrote about in the very early days of the blog, "Watashi wa Piano" (私はピアノ）.
The last time that I wrote about singer Akiko Nakamura（中村晃子）, it was for her 6th single"Taiyo ni Koi wo Shite"（太陽に恋をして）from May 1967, so this time, I'd like to introduce her 7th 45" release which came out later in October that year, "Niji Iro no Mizuumi" (Rainbow Lake).
With a cool intro consisting of snappy percussion and a bass, Nakamura sings about neglecting someone dear in her old hometown when she flew off to the big city, only to find out that he himself has gone elsewhere much to her eternal sadness. Created by the same tandem behind "Taiyo ni Koi wo Shite", lyricist Hiroshi Yokoi（横井弘）and composer Hirooki Ogawa（小川寛興）, the setting of the romantic hard lesson learned may have been out in the regional areas, but the sound feels very urban. In fact, "Niji Iro no Mizuumi" has been considered to be a solo Group Sounds effort.
Reaching No. 3 on the very young Oricon charts, the single would eventually become the 23rd-ranked single for 1968, selling around 800,000 records. Nakamura not only got invited to perform on NHK's annual New Year's Eve special Kohaku Utagassen for 1968 but she was also able to sing it in a movie that was released earlier in March of that year titled "Susume! Jaguars Kizen Jouriku"（進め!ジャガーズ 敵前上陸...Go Jaguars! Landing in the Face of the Enemy）. The flick actually starred Group Sounds band The Jaguars（ザ・ジャガーズ）but I gather that the producers wanted to kill two birds with one stone so they also put Nakamura in a major role, being able to put some more exposure on what was her first big hit in music with backup by the GS band themselves. The arrangement is indeed a bit more Watusi-able.
Well, yesterday's meteorological maelstrom is happily yesterday's matter. It's nice and sunny today although I would still be hard-pressed to call it spring. Still, maybe we can still bring some smiles here.
Or perhaps we can bring one hundred million of them. Yup, I've got Noriko Sakai's（酒井法子）bouncy 6th single, "Ichi Oku no Smile" (One Hundred Million Smiles) from May 1988. Nori-P always had a gleaming and attractive grin so I can say that she possessed a one hundred million-watt smile of her own, and the song itself rather reflects a very happy frame of mind. Lyrics were by Hiromi Mori（森浩美）with arrangements by Motoki Funayama（船山基紀）. ASKA of Chage & Aska fame was responsible for this very cheery melody which doesn't sound the type of music that he would come up with, and indeed, it's a very aidoru tune.
The song rang a bell with me and since I don't have any Nori-P albums...just a couple of singles from the 1990s...I think that I probably heard "Ichi Oku no Smile" on one of the old music ranking programs. What surprised me was that this was her biggest-selling single by reaching No. 2 on the Oricon weeklies, so none of her singles ever hit the top spot. "Ichi Oku no Smile" was also used for a Ban deodorant commercial (probably starring Sakai) and it first appeared on an album via her "LOVELY TIMES / NORIKO Part III" which was released in August 1988; it hit No. 8 on the charts.
My earlier article on "Rain Songs" made me realize that this week's Gosanke Imagined can also square upon one of my other first sources for kayo other than "The Best 10". This was the more local and weekly "Sounds of Japan" broadcasts on CHIN-FM here in Toronto where I was able to receive music from Japanese singers who weren't within enka, aidoru or technopop. The radio show gave me my first indications that Japanese music could get into pop and other realms.
Strangely enough, my "Rain Songs" already took out the first two tunes that I had ever heard on that show. However, Iruka（イルカ）and Junko Yagami（八神純子）would come on board over and over again thanks to the DJs on "Sounds of Japan". The program was also where I first discovered Yumi Matsutoya（松任谷由実）, and it was via the song below. The 1982 label is one that I've put up although the songs themselves had been released some years earlier. It's just that my devoted listening to "Sounds of Japan" began in 1982.
Yup, it's not exactly fun weather out there unless you like being buffeted by wind and rain whilst the temperatures are just above freezing. Had to get some grocery shopping done but both my umbrella and I managed to run the meteorological gauntlet without losing too many of our wits.
To be honest, in the decade-plus history of "Kayo Kyoku Plus" I don't know whether I've done an Author's Pick on rain-titled kayo or J-Pop. I should have since one of the first sources of Japanese pop music that I heard once I became a believer was an episode of "Sounds of Japan" which had the theme of rain. In fact, the first two choices of the five listed below were played on that very episode.
For some reason, of all of the basic elements out there, rain seems to have been the most popular choice for kayo kyoku titles. Perhaps it's due to all of the emotions that it evokes. But without further ado, here are a mere five of my rain songs.
Completing the second part of the article last week, we'll be wrapping up this three-parter translation of a Japan Billboard article with singer-songwriter Tetsuji Hayashi（林哲司）, lyricist Masao Urino（売野雅勇）and music journalist Toshikazu Kanazawa（金澤寿和）back in 2021. The source article is here with Page 3 being translated today. As I mentioned last week, the link will just head over to Page 1; scroll down to the bottom to press for Page 3.
Tetsuji Hayashi: It seems like even with the young people in Japan, they have been inspired by the music of that time. For instance, Sakanaction created a song where you can feel the essence of Omega Tribe and there are some 80s-like elements in OKAMOTO'S Hama Okamoto's bass. I've also gotten that sort of impression from the kick sound of the drums that I've been hearing lately, .
Toshikazu Kanazawa: That might be Vaporwave's influence. Stuff like background music and short instrumental orchestral pieces have been made through computers and looping with the 80s as the source. Those overseas otaku types first swarmed around Mariya's "Plastic Love" and then spread it around the world via social media. On top of that, the young people who have been coming onto the current City Pop scene have parents who grew up in the 70s and 80s. So there are a lot of folks who've heard Steely Dan, Yuming and Tats on the car radio since they were kids. There's been a high level of DNA imprinted with music.
Masao Urino: Weren't there many musicians who didn't listen to Western music for a while? Whenever I asked who they liked, I got nothing but J-Pop singers. I was surprised by that.
Kanazawa: I feel that things have progressed in a better direction. There are people in their 20s and 30s who have been active in the studio.
Hayashi: Even with all this music programming, there are people who've been seeking the joy of collaboration. With "Stay With Me", the number of young listeners who feel that the man-made groove and the balance between the musical score and the discretion of the musicians have been interesting is increasing.
Kanazawa: Mr. Hayashi, how do you see Mr. Urino's lyrics?
Hayashi: The melody was written first in order to emphasize the sound and to create a Western feel, and our era was the time when the melody-first style first emerged. Having said that, it was truly a work of genius to select words to insert into a melody to create a story. Those who can create even higher quality works will become the hitmakers, so that's why I think that I was really blessed with the lyricists. Mr. Urino is one of the examples. His quintessential songs are Junichi Inagaki's "P.S. Dakishimetai" (P.S. I Want to Hold You) and Carlos Toshiki & Omega Tribe's ballad, "Be Yourself". I had a strong desire to create such songs. However, they wouldn't become singles but the title tracks of their own albums. For me, those were the really important tunes.
Urino: It wasn't telepathy but there was no hesitation between us. At that time during our collaboration, the images were quick to emerge.
Hayashi: With a title like "P.S. Dakishimetai", there is that imaginary world created for the listener. And when Inagaki sings it, it's irresistible. When there were many of those songs like "Be Yourself" with their feelings of grief, they impressed people with encouragement and positive words. I'm so grateful that these very good songs were made.
Urino: The characteristic of Mr. Hayashi's songs is where pictures emerge simply from listening to them. The images naturally surface so I can easily write down that first lyric. I'm the type of person who can't write lyrics until I've listened to a song and can see the whole picture, but when it comes to Mr. Hayashi's songs, the pictures flow out. I had my own concept for "Be Yourself", but the melody for "P.S. Dakishimetai" was so good that I wrote the lyrics in one fell swoop. The title involved a postscript with its cornerstone being The Beatles, but once it became the title for a letter (to a loved one), I was able to adjust things to fit the situation.*
Hayashi: But you were the one to take that title to the end of the lyrics. Of course, the P.S. thing was merely a gimmick, but you put that title at the very end, only once appearing in the whole song. The listeners wouldn't have been satisfied until they heard it.
Urino: Actually, when Ginji Ito was writing, I was told by producer Kenji Kisaki that I had to become the pop version of (legendary lyricist) Yu Aku. I didn't really know what that meant back then, but it was during the City Pop boom, so I took it as meaning that I had to bring a stylish pop feeling with plenty of details to the bold and structured lyrics that was Aku's way. There was pathos, human emotions and the important things, but the pop sense would be slightly lighter with a more superficial sense of life.** From then on, I think that Kisaki had wanted to say that was the necessary thing.
Hayashi: And you actually pulled that off. Mr. Urino always heads off to the barber so when I asked him "Got a haircut?", he replied "Got my beard trimmed". I was surprised that he went to the barber just for that.*** I often throw this out as an example, but if Southern All Stars is a beach house, then Omega Tribe is a bistro. The former can go anywhere in the country even if there is a curtain of ice. But the latter is pretty much restricted to Shonan or Suma. That's where SAS' strength lies.
Kanazawa: It's an enka pops popularity, isn't it?****
Hayashi: But because they sing in a conspicuously Western style, they've got a wide range. It's amazing that no matter how they sing it, it has that SAS taste. That's not doable with Omega Tribe. For example, if those guys tried something in the enka vein, the fans would be disappointed (laughs).
Kanazawa: That must be the charm and limit of City Pop.
*「タイトルは後付けで、要はビートルズだけど、手紙のタイトルになってから辻褄を合わせたの。」
Had a bit of a tough time with that last sentence in Urino's 3rd response from the top, and I gather that what he had meant by The Beatles was that the Fab Four had come up with "P.S. I Love You" in 1962. The lyrics for Inagaki's "P.S. Dakishimetai" come out as a love letter with the last lyric being a true postscript.
**「哀愁とか人の感情とか大事なモノはあるけど、少し軽くて生活感が薄い、それがポップ感。」
I think that I've got a handle on this one which is at the end of Urino's 4th response from the top, but I can always ask for a second opinion.
***Right after that Urino response comes Hayashi's statement whose first half regarding Urino's fastidiousness with beard care might be a comment on the lyricist's approach to lyric writing. The analogy with beach houses and bistros didn't seem to make much sense to me. I personally think that bistros can be placed anywhere...even in Hokkaido in the dead of winter. Still, it was an interesting comparison between Southern All Stars and Omega Tribe.
****Just in case there are folks who aren't familiar with enka, it's the genre representing very traditional music based on emotional themes of pride, love and sadness often played by shamisen, koto and shakuhachi. Saburo Kitajima（北島三郎）and Sayuri Ishikawa（石川さゆり）are just two of the famous singers for enka.
Overall though I was happy to finally read an actual conversation involving three people whose names I've heard and planted down into the blog for years, I was hoping that they could have delved even deeper into what made City Pop tick and its sudden blossoming in the world many years later. I got some impression that like at least a few singers who've made their opinions known on the phenomenon, they are somewhat fascinated, grateful but also befuddled about why City Pop has activated the world's music endorphins so hard. In any case, if any of you would like to exercise some of your translation muscles and check up on how I did, please do so and perhaps a conversation or corrections can be had.
The last time that I had Yasuhiro Abe（安部恭弘）up on the byline for a song was back in October 2020 when I wrote about his "Yasashii Saigo no Natsu"（優しい最後の夏）from his 1987 album"Urban Spirits". That's quite a lot of City Pop Fridays missed since then.
Well, I guess I'll have to rectify that immediately. But to let it be known, when I first noticed the singer-songwriter's 9th single, "Tennessee Waltz", in his discography, I initially assumed that it was Abe doing a cover of the Patti Page country classic. I figured that he had the chops to do an excellent cover of the song as was also the case with the late Chiemi Eri（江利チエミ）.
However, I was totally wrong in my assessment. Abe's "Tennessee Waltz" was his own creation with the singer composing it while Masao Urino（売野雅勇）was the lyricist and Akira Inoue（井上鑑）was the arranger. Released in April 1986, the whole thing about "Tennessee Waltz" is a pretty intense love affair which involved a dance to the original song. Abe makes his own creation a soaring and dramatic City Pop romp across Tokyo with the contributions of a soprano saxophone and growling electric guitar.
Now, this is indeed a treat. There's been some mention of the fact that it's pretty hard to track down any YouTube video of Abe actually performing on a music show or even in concert, so I was happy to find this one with him performing "Tennessee Waltz" on Fuji-TV's"Yoru no Hit Studio"（夜のヒットスタジオ）. The song begins at about 2:30 but in the interview portion beforehand, Abe pointed out that he had once been a home tutor with one of his students being actor/tarento Makoto Nonomura（野々村真）who pops up to confess that he hadn't been the best of the studying bunch. (Sorry but that video has been taken down but it's been replaced by a live performance of the song.)
Abe's "Tennessee Waltz" was also the final of three ending themes for Fuji-TV's "Mokuyou Drama Street"（木曜ドラマストリート...Thursday Drama Street） which was a 1985-1986 anthology series featuring various mysteries. The video above has an entire episode but being one of the earlier entries, it finishes up with Off-Course's（オフコース）"Endless Nights" as the ending theme here. By the way, the B-side to the single was "PUMPS" which can be found on Abe's "Frame of Mind" album.
Being a foodie with a sweet tooth, when I saw the title of the song, I couldn't help but think about chocolate getting heated into that velvety goodness.
And there is something about Masayo Kawaguchi's（川口雅代）delivery of "Melty" which had me making the same comparisons with that flowing melted chocolate. I've already written about polymath Kawaguchi via her first article on KKP for "Salmon Pink" (さあもん ぴんく) so you can find out why I gave her that label. Both "Melty" and "Salmon Pink" belong to her first album"Salute - Go-Aisatsu"（SALUTE 〜ご・あ・い・さ・つ〜...Greetings） from 1981.
"Melty" was written and composed by Kawaguchi and it's about as City Pop as one can get, thanks to all of those usual instruments such as bass, keyboards and the like along with Akira Inoue's（井上鑑） arrangements. Despite my chocolate hallucinations, I'd probably think that most listeners would go for some cocktails or champagne in a hotel lounge on hearing this song. The song was also given its own single treatment when it was released the following year.
When it comes to thespian Yutaka Mizutani（水谷豊）on TV, there will be his most famous role as the urbane detective Ukyo Sugishita（杉下右京）on the long-running "Aibou"（相棒）series. As a singer, he will probably be recognized for his 5th single"California Connection"（カリフォルニア・コネクション）from 1979.
But let's start off Urban Contemporary Fridays on KKP with something that's not quite in the City Pop vein but it still has some pangs of city life in there. Mizutani began his recording career with a debut single titled "Harbor Light" which was released in July 1977, just before his 25th birthday. Incidentally, this has nothing to do with Boz Scaggs' ballad, "Harbor Lights", from his 1976 "Silk Degrees" album.
Nope, this was made in Japan with Takashi Matsumoto（松本隆）as the lyricist, Yosui Inoue（井上陽水）as the composer and Jun Sato（佐藤準）handling the arrangements. And it sounds like a song that should have belonged to a Japanese cop show with the star pensively walking the streets of Tokyo at night. Lyrically, it's all about the most atmospheric breakup situation, and vocally, Mizutani seems to have been channeling quite a bit of Inoue. Not sure if the song actually helped the budding young actor get some of those cop roles.👮
I was watching a 1994 TBS variety series of a trio of tarento bicycling their way around the shitamachi area of Tokyo, and they encountered a couple of grizzled artisans in their 50s who specialized in creating obi for kimono. They accepted and lamented at the same time that they and their fellow comrades were slowly becoming extinct since machines were now able to create them much better and at a lower price although they felt that the human touch added that much-needed character. Now that it's almost thirty years later, I wonder what has become of them.
My feeling regarding the sendou（船頭）or Japanese boatmen is more guardedly optimistic. I can hardly imagine the day when robots will be rowing those old boats on the many rivers of Japan let alone seeing them pull off stunts like the one in the above video supplied by sshinozukajp. And I think that they've had a bigger presence in Japanese culture including within kayo kyoku. I've sometimes come across a few songs with sendou in the title.
Just recently, I found out about this one song titled "Sendou Kouta"(Boatman's Ballad) which was originally created in 1921 by lyricist Ujou Noguchi（野口雨情）and composer Shinpei Nakayama（中山晋平）under the title of "Kare Susuki"（枯れすすき...Withered Pampas） before being renamed the following year. Utako Nakayama（中山歌子）was the first singer to record "Sendou Kouta" in 1923, but unfortunately, I couldn't find any sign of her popular version online. However, I've noticed that the song has been covered by many singers since then, and it's even merited its own article on English Wikipedia.
From what I could discern of Noguchi's lyrics, "Sendou Kouta" seems to be a sad relating of a despairing boatman who may have lost his love and can now just do his job and little else. In 1957, the movie "Ujou Monogatari"（雨情物語...Rain Story） used the song as the theme with actor/singer Hisaya Morishige（森繫久彌）giving his version. The arrangement and Morishige's forlorn delivery can really punch a hole in the heart and I'm reminded a lot of Hibari Misora's（美空ひばり）"Kanashii Sake"（悲しい酒）which was released the following decade.
The first version of "Sendou Kouta" that I heard though was by Keiko Fuji（藤圭子）via her July 1971 5th album "Keiko no Jinsei Gekijo"（圭子の人生劇場...Keiko's Theatre of Life）. Her take has a bit more of an epicness to it and then about halfway through, the song suddenly veers more toward a jazzier Mood Kayo arrangement thanks to the introduction of a bluesy saxophone. With that version, I think that the setting goes from the lonely boatman all the way into a Shinjuku nightclub.
