Recently, I met a fellow early Showa kayo enthusiast I got to know on the 'gram in person while he was on vacation in Tokyo. I brought him record hunting and introduced him to my favourite record haunts in the Jimbocho area. The topic of conversation amid vinyl viewing was, naturally, the musicians of the time and the technicalities of records - fascinating stuff. One of the artists we touched upon was none other than the great Ichiro Fujiyama (藤山一郎). My natsumelo acquaintance did comment that I seemed kinda "late to the party" on the Fujiyama train despite doing deep dives into the world of Japanese prewar and postwar popular songs. In a way, I do agree with that.
On one hand, Mr. Fujiyama had been one of the very first ryukoka characters I'd encountered nearly a decade ago. I enjoyed some of his spunky evergreen hits and thought he was a pleasant presence with that crystal clear voice. I've also always respected him as one of the kayo greats, all the more so when I came across a video of an elderly Fujiyama fiercely asserting that having a cold was no excuse for not being able to sing. This made me see him as that intimidating music teacher who strives for nothing less than discipline and excellence. In fact, it's the reason why I call him "Mr. Fujiyama" rather than his nickname of "Pin-chan". But that was about it and I never bothered to pay much more attention to him despite his omnipresence in old kayo shows and VTRs.
And then "Shanghai Yakyoku" (Shanghai Serenade). Specifically, this live performance on the music program "Natsukashi no Utagoe" (なつかしの歌声) from 1969.
In Kiyomaro Kikuchi's (菊池清麿) "Showa Enka no Rekishi" (昭和演歌の歴史... History of Showa Enka) from 2016, Taro Shoji (東海林太郎) described his "Murasaki Kouta" (むらさき小唄) as having an ethereal, eerie air to it. I felt the exact same way about "Shanghai Yakyoku" when I watched the this clip. Maybe it was the black and white footage that accentuated the haunting nature of Takio Niki's (仁木他喜雄) score. Maybe it was Toshio Nomura's (野村俊夫) lyrics that seem to relay a mysterious love affair in the enigmatic bayside city. Or, perhaps it was the singer himself, smartly-dressed as always, effortlessly gliding towards the camera just as the music sounded most foreboding with its bellowing strings and deep, menacing trumpets. Strangely ethereal. Wonderfully eerie. Combined with his hearty, textbook perfect delivery and crisp enunciation, Mr. Fujiyama had never seemed so... alluring.
Anyway, while the 1930s were chock full of China-centric songs and I can think of a couple that are of a similar dark atmosphere as "Shanghai Yakyoku," I can't help but compare it to another entry from 1939 that falls on the complete opposite end of the ambience spectrum, Tadaharu Nakano's (中野忠晴) "China Tango". They're like different sides of the same, tango-inspired, romantic tune coin. The fantastical "China Tango" feels as though you're about to be treated to a wonderful night on the town with a playful Nakano leading you by the hand. And then we have "Shanghai Yakyoku", its intense atmosphere making it feel as though you've just stepped into a 1920s Shanghai Noir film. Who committed the murder in that alley? No one knows. Maybe the suave Mr. Fujiyama does, and he'll take you by the hand to show you who did it - if you can trust him *cue Niki’s dramatic music*.
But at the end of the day, the image I hold of Mr. Fujiyama remains more or less that of a strict classical music teacher who does “moral”, appropriate-for-the-whole-family rajio kayo. “Shanghai Yakyoku”, however, finally enabled me to see him as a pop singer who can be fun to tune in to. Would I get invested into Mr. Fujiyama? I'd be surprised if I do, because I think his singing's "too perfect" and not much feeling gets conveyed as a result (compared to the fellows I love, at least). For now, though, I'm just happy to listen to more of his works with a renewed appreciation for him.
Hello, Noelle, and thanks very much for your story on Fujiyama and "Shanghai Yakyoku". You know, I wouldn't be surprised if Fujiyama was indeed that fellow who was courtly and self-effacing to fans and other people but was very tough on any of his kohai. I know that Saburo Kitajima is indeed that type of person, and there is one notorious late baseball manager who was that way, too.
ReplyDelete"Shanghai Yakyoku" has that tango-esque rhythm to it which does hint at a dangerous dance literally and figuratively.
Hi, J-Canuck. Yeah, considering how seriously Mr. Fujiyama took his music, he did seem like he'd be a purveyor of tough love despite his Mr. Rogers-like image. That contrast only makes it more terrifying.
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