Akira Matsudaira & Mamechiyo/Tadaharu Nakano & Noriko Awaya -- Koya wo Yuku (曠野を行く)

From the album "Matsudaira Akira
Eien no Utagoe" (2021)

 

I’d previously mentioned the Japanese record industry’s initial aversion to cover songs some time back. Allow me to introduce one of those exceptions: Koya wo Yuku. This was one I discovered while doing a bit of research on Akira Matsudaira’s (松平晃) Koya Mono in relation to Hachiro Kasuga’s (春日八郎) Bokyo Kayo for a class paper late last year. At the point of doing the paper, I'd only just developed a taste for Matsudaira’s songs of adventure and wandering in the vast Manchurian plains. That being the case, I was only most aware of his notable ones, i.e. basically, those easily found in his compilations on Spotify. The tunes that sparked the Koya Mono craze in the mid-1930s, “Isoge Horo Basha” (急げ幌馬車) and "Yuhi wa Ochite" (夕日は落ちて), were undoubtedly ever-present in the Kayo Prince's* compilations. But there were a few others which were less commercially successful, like "Koya wo Yuku".

"Koya wo Yuku" (Traversing the Plains (?)) was a duet Akira-san recorded with Mamechiyo (豆千代), and was released in late 1934. Mamechiyo, who debuted in 1933, was one of Columbia Records' uguisu geisha who hailed from Gifu prefecture. From my understanding of kayokyoku researcher Gyoji Osada's "Showa Kayokyoku" (2017), venerable composer Yoshi Eguchi (江口夜詩), a fellow Gifu native, was set on turning the geisha-turned-pop-singer into a star by giving her music lessons and conjuring up some songs for her. Without much success, she was paired with Matsudaira in hopes of scoring a hit. What came from this was "Koya wo Yuku". Matsudaira was in the limelight thanks to "Isoge Horo Basha" (also a Eguchi Melody), and that tune also made Koya Mono into the musical flavour of this period, making the likelihood of success for "Koya wo Yuku" high. While it didn't perform badly, it didn't perform great either. Mamechiyo recalled later that a likely reason was stiff competition from the great Taro Shoji (東海林太郎), who was also renowned for his Koya Mono (derived from Prof. Yoshinori Osakabe's "Showa Kayo Shi" (2024)). Luckily for Mamechiyo, she finally made a breakthrough about a year later in late 1935 with “Yuhi wa Ochite”, another duet with Akira-san. 

Having set the context of "Koya wo Yuku", let's take a look at the song itself. As with most Koya Mono, Suiro Nishioka's (西岡水朗) center on two migrants from Japan, wandering the Manchurian plains hoping to carve out a new life in this new land. Even though this is a duet, I'm not entirely sure if our travelers are a couple because there is mention of solo journeys (hitori tabi). Or, maybe (this just came to me while writing), they were travelling alone until they crossed paths, found that they are kindred spirits, and then started their journey together... I don't know. The relationship of the two characters aren't as clear cut (to me) as in "Yuhi wa Ochite".

That aside, what stood out the most to me was Eguchi sensei's melody. My initial impression of Koya Mono was that they were, more often than not, made using the minor scale. Instead, "Koya wo Yuku", for the most part, was made using the major scale and sounded rather cheerful, perhaps expressing the excitement and hope the couple feels. Yet, right after some stanzas, the melody briefly switches to the minor scale, as if reflecting our protagonists' weariness and pangs of homesickness after a period of being on the road far from home. The music quickly reverts back to its original cheery mood, however, as if their optimism in finding happiness in this new land overrides whatever pessimism they may hold. "Koya wo Yuku" is an interesting piece, for sure. I wonder if it would have been more successful had it been released at a different time.

The above video has Mamechiyo performing "Koya wo Yuku" and "Yuhi wo Ochite" almost 40 years after the songs were released in 1970 on the popular natsumelo program "Natsukashi no Utagoe" (なつかしの歌声). Sadly, she had to go solo because Akira-san passed on a decade earlier. Regrettably, Akira-san does not have any television program footage because of his early passing. He would've been such a joy to watch, I'm sure :').

https://open.spotify.com/track/1EGfLIPLsl9UH9GWVxR1N9?si=1aa1aced3de34954

(Seems like the video version is region locked, so I'm hoping Spotify can do the trick.)

Despite the lukewarm reception "Koya wo Yuku" received, it was covered by a pair of singers I least expected to cover it: jazz daddy dandy Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴) and blues diva Noriko Awaya (淡谷のり子). Chancing upon this in Mr. Nakano's compilation "Nakano Tadaharu onko chishin" (中野忠晴 音故知新) had me doing a double take because I knew both these artists primarily for jazz and jazzu songu (covers of Western songs that are not necessarily jazz). While singers were made to sing what’s trending, my impression was that the both Nakano and Awaya were hard-headed enough to resist singing stuff that didn’t really fit their image, i.e. Koya Mono. Hence my surprise to see both their names attached to one. In fact, it was so out of (my) left field that I didn't even recognise it to be the Matsudaira-Mamechiyo duet at first. 

Contributing to my ignorance, besides the fact that my brain was baked golden brown by several projects, was its arrangement. For one, it was significantly faster in tempo than the original. Then, despite similar instruments used, like the accordion and banjo, I perceived the Nakano-Awaya version to be more Western-sounding. It turns out that the Nakano-Awaya rendition was originally supposed to be just a dance music piece arranged and performed by French instrumental band Alexander Dance Orchestra (Orchestre de Dance Alexander). However, for one reason or another, it was never released, so vocals were added to it later through an interesting method. The record containing the Orchestra's performance was played in the recording studio, and Nakano and Awaya simply sang to it. This accounts for why the music sounds weaker than the usual big band recording and why Nakano and Awaya sounded much clearer. This version would be released on February 1936. I wondered why Akira-san and Mamechiyo didn't reprise their roles for this recording, but it may as well actually be because of the ADO's Western-tinged arrangement making it more jazzu songu-like and, thus, more fitting for Mr. Nakano and Awaya. Nevertheless, for a music industry system that used to have an aversion to cover songs, this instance was certainly an oddity.

I actually quite like the Nakano-Awaya rendition for its lighthearted atmosphere. But it’s also partially because this is one of the rare instances I get to hear Nakano's baritone-tenor in almost-HD and my ears like that... ... I feel an intense glare coming from the Matsudaira photo I have displayed on my desk as I am writing this. (’°-°)

*This nickname was the brain child of Prof. Osakabe. I used to find that hilarious because of its juxtaposition to my friend Ms. C's comments about Akira-san being an adorable yet ditzy creature and I was still at that stage of clowning on the singer. But I now unironically call Akira-san my Kayo Prince, so joke's on me.