Go-Touchi Songs（ご当地ソング）: Hokkaido and the Tohoku region

 

When we were watching the venerable historical TV drama "Mito Komon"（水戸黄門）as kids, I noticed that each episode followed a set pattern. It would start out with the disguised former vice-shogun Tokugawa and his heroic party entering a certain area in which by coincidence, someone was being victimized by evil officials. Then, there would be the gradual infiltration and investigation of the crimes being committed before the final sword-flashing mayhem takes place. Then, Tokugawa's samurai retainer would whip out the inro case near the end showing the villains and victims alike that justice has arrived and will be served.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find that particular scene on YouTube, but I'd like to go back to one of those tropes of "Mito Komon". I'm not sure if this had been the case with every episode, but whenever Tokugawa and his band entered a region, one of them, the ever-famished Hachibei, would always remark (or swoon) that the area was famous for some sort of food. And this was where I got my first hint that the prefectures and territories of Japan prided themselves on some aspect that set themselves apart. Yup, food was and is one example.

But of course, this is a music blog and not a foodie-based one. Watching the most recent episode of NHK's "Uta Con"（うたコン）, the theme was go-touchi kayo or songs that made the case for a certain city, region or prefecture, often with the name of such place as part of the song's title. I've been hearing the term for years now, but last week's episode finally sparked within me the idea of putting up some of those geographically based tunes up here. By the way, the above video by YouTuber Roman Hiko gives a full rundown on the go-touchi songs for the entire country so that ought to give you folks a good grounding of what we're talking about here.

Let's consider this particular article the first of a short weekly series of go-touchi songs representing areas of Japan, and for this week, I'm going to cover the northern area including Hokkaido（北海道）and the Tohoku（東北）region (Aomori, Akita, Miyagi, Iwate, Yamagata and Fukushima Prefectures). Obviously, my humble list is way too small, but I just wanted to display some of the songs. As well, you can check out the J-Wiki link to see the whole kit and kaboodle of go-touchi tunes.

1. Hibari Misora -- Ringo Oiwake （リンゴ追分）for Aomori (1952)

2. Saburo Kitajima -- Hakodate no Hito （函館の女）for Hakodate in Hokkaido (1965)

3. Masayoshi Tsuruoka & Tokyo Romantica -- Otaru no Hito yo （小樽のひとよ）for Otaru in Hokkaido (1967)

4. Masao Sen -- Kitaguni no Haru (北国の春）for the Tohoku region in general (1977)

5. Sayuri Ishikawa -- Tsugaru Kaikyo Fuyu Geshiki （津軽海峡・冬景色）for Aomori (1977)

6. Muneyuki Sato -- Aoba-jo Koi Uta （青葉城恋唄）for Sendai in Miyagi (1978)

7. Yuji Mori and Southern Cross -- Suki desu Sapporo（好きですサッポロ）for Sapporo in Hokkaido (1981)

I'll go into the Kanto area next week. By the way, I know that I said above that "Kayo Kyoku Plus" isn't a foodie blog, but I will simply leave this article with a couple of dishes from Hokkaido and the Tohoku region: jingisukan（ジンギスカン）and kiritanpo（きりたんぽ...Akita, to be specific） respectively.

Koji Tsuruta -- Hawaii no Yoru（ハワイの夜）

Well, I would like to send my best birthday wishes to the United States of America. If I'm not mistaken, the nation is 242 years old today. Will definitely be looking forward to its 250th anniversary...strangely enough, the same year that the 2026 World Cup will be taking place in Canada, Mexico and AMERICA!

I was kinda thinking about what kayo I could put up which would be representative of our neighbour down south, and the 50th State, Hawaii, came to mind. Mind you, the song that I've put up here was created in 1952, about 7 years before Hawaii achieved statehood.

Anyways, "Hawaii no Yoru" (A Night in Hawaii) was the 5th single that the late singer/actor Koji Tsuruta（鶴田浩二）released for Japan Victor. It was used as the theme song for the movie of the same name, and the man is at his crooning best as he gives his loving tribute to Hawaii. Mood Kayo has a good chunk of Hawaii-based songs with the perquisite steel guitar but my impression is that a lot of them have a certain amount of mourning as if someone had lost a love there. With "Hawaii no Yoru", the sense here is that of Hawaii being that exotic land beyond the sea and perhaps with the entire group of islands being the new love. Certainly, Tsuruta makes it enticing with his delivery.

Takao Saeki（佐伯孝夫）provided the lyrics with Junkichi Shi*（司潤吉）as the composer. The ballad makes me wonder what Hawaii was like in the days preceding its entry into the United States.

*The kanji for the composer's last name has at least a couple of readings, so his name could also be Junkichi Tsukasa. However, I have just discovered that this was one of a few pen names for the Korean composer Mongin Son（孫牧人）. One of his other pseudonyms was Akira Kugayama（久我山明）under which he made "Casbah no Onna"（カスバの女）in 1955.

Hideo Koh -- Yuki no Furu Machi wo（雪の降るまちを）

I've been looking at the live streaming videos on YouTube for the Tokyo area just now and it's looking positively white out there. The snow has been unrelenting. One would think that Toronto sent an EMS package of winter to the nation's capital. We Torontonians have gotten some more snow ourselves in the past few days. Forgive me for being Captain Obvious but I don't think we'll need that groundhog tomorrow...heck, even the groundhogs themselves aren't gonna bother coming out of their holes on the 2nd. Six more weeks of winter!

Not too surprisingly, this past episode of "Uta Kon"（うたコン）devoted its episode to snow-themed songs with a friendly warning at the beginning of the show for folks going out to be careful out there. Some familiar tunes appeared but then came this one called "Yuki no Furu Machi wo" (In A Snowy Town) made its presence known.

It caught my eyes and ears since the music by Yoshinao Nakada（中田喜直）was weaving back and forth between solemn and hopeful. The opening part had singer Hideo Koh（高英男）sound as if he were trudging grimly through the accumulation while the snow was coming down before the music suddenly changed into something more hopeful...perhaps the blizzard stopped and the sun peaked through the clouds showing a beautiful landscape in white.

Anyways, as "Uta Kon" concierge Shosuke Tanigawa（谷原章介）narrated and as was written on the J-Wiki article for the song, Nakada based the melody on the snowscape in Tsuruoka City, Yamagata Prefecture where an acquaintance of his once lived. Naoya Uchimura's（内村直也）lyrics aside, I would say that the song was signifying that traveling in the stuff may be hell but once you get back home in the snowy mountains, that scenery is worth it.

Interestingly enough, the genesis of "Yuki no Furu Machi wo" didn't come out of any intention to pay tribute to winter. It was first heard on NHK Radio in 1951 when it was used as an insert song on a drama called "Eriko to Tomo ni"（えり子とともに...Together With Eriko）. The producer found out that for a rehearsal for one episode, there was a bit of extra time hanging so he called out for someone to whip up a tune as some musical padding which brought in Koh and his song. Sooner than you can say "kismet", it became a hit with listeners so that little filler which got pushed into the radio show was extended with one or two more verses to become the full song which was released in 1952.

Koh, who was born in 1918 on the island of Sakhalin, had just returned from studying at the Sorbonne in France when he recorded "Yuki no Furu Machi wo". Although his big hit isn't really in this genre, he was apparently known as the First Chanson Singer of Japan. Koh also appeared 7 times in the early years of the Kohaku Utagassen between 1953 and 1961. He passed away in 2009 at the age of 90.

Singer-actress Chieko Baisho（倍賞千恵子）, along with many others, gave her cover version of "Yuki wo Furu Machi wo" although I don't know when. Her version sounds more like a folksy lullaby. The song even made its way onto NHK's "Minna no Uta"（みんなのうた）twice in 1961 and 1966, naturally both times in December.

Toshiro Omi -- Kanojo wa Iya to Iimashita (彼女はイヤッと言いました)

Rather slick-looking fellow, if I don't say so myself.

Source: J-Wiki

Toshiro Omi (近江俊郎) is a name I see quite often whenever I'm digging around YouTube for enka or ryukoka to listen to due to his melancholic "Yu no Machi no Elegy" (湯の町エレジー) sitting among those fondly remembered kayo of yesteryear - I talked on it a little in Part 1 of the Masao Koga (古賀政男) Creator article, so you can check it out here if, you like. He seemed like a pretty cool character to me (just like a few other artistes from his era) and I quite enjoy his vocals, so I was keen to get to know more of what other songs he had recorded in his career besides his smash hit. Quite by coincidence, I stumbled upon "Kanojo wa Iya to Iimashita". It's not one of Omi's more well-known entries in his discography as, besides this video, I am not able to find it anywhere else on the web. I do, however, find it entertaining.

Unlike "Yu no Machi no Elegy", this isn't your cry-in-your-sake-at-the-bar tune. In fact, it's a stark contrast with its happy-go-lucky and charming score that is quite refreshing and easy on the ears, brought to you by Shigeru Tamura (田村しげる). And then there's the lyrics. "Kanojo wa Iya to Iimashita", translates to something on the line of "My girlfriend/She said no", so what's the girl saying no to? Well, it's not explicitly mentioned, but from what 青戸隆幸 (I'm not sure how his name is pronounced) had written and that sweetly coy manner in which Omi sang the "no/iya" bit, I believe it's quite apparent that our leading lady here is not rejecting an offer of a cheeseburger. Instead, she's shutting down the hopeful advances of her sweetheart as they take a stroll down a (most likely) secluded forest path, much to his increasing frustration. Despite that, it looks like she finally relents in the end after he got miffed by the prospect of not hitting first base... or maybe he was gunning for a home run?

Whatever intentions the fellow has in mind, it gives quite an honest look into what goes down in a young/new relationship, I must say, but with its undertones and premises, I wonder if Omi got some flak from the powers that be for "Kanojo wa Iya to Iimashita" when it came out in 1952. And then again, with all the scrutiny going on in the recent years, I'm pretty sure if it came out at this day and age there'll be netizens (among others) pouncing on it and tearing it to shreds.

Anyway, since this is the first proper article for Omi, here's some background info on him. Omi, whose real name was Toshihiko Ohkura (大蔵敏彦), was born in Tokyo on 7th July 1918. He debuted as a singer under the name of Toshihiro Sameshima (鮫島敏弘... I also don't know if that's the right pronunciation) with the song "Suberoyo Ski" (辷ろよスキー) in 1936. However, he did not produce any hits for a good decade, and had revised his stage name multiple times only settling on "Toshiro Omi" in 1942. It was only in 1946 when he finally had his big break via "Kanashiki Takebue" (悲しき竹笛), a duet with Mitsue Nara (奈良光枝), and then "Yu no Machi no Elegy" came out a couple of years later, and its success allowed Omi to join the ranks of Haruo Oka (岡晴夫) and Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫), who were collectively known as the Sengou Sanba Garasu (戦後三羽烏... Postwar Trio). In 1955, he made his directorial debut with the movie "Youki na Tengoku" (陽気な天国) which he starred in and was produced by his own company, Omi Production (近江プロダクション). In 1992, at the age of 73, Omi passed away after battling prostate cancer for a few years.

P.S. Y'know perhaps this lady's lover would've backed down if she had this wonderful postcard courtesy of the nutso character Sam, played by the crudely hilarious YouTuber Brandon Rogers - only look up his stuff if you don't have a weak heart.

imgrum.org/media/1231347142924833161_2410543715

... Okay, okay, I'm kidding. Please don't come after me.

Ichiro Fujiyama & Keiko Arai -- Olympic no Uta （オリンピックの歌）

Although I do like my enka tunes, I can't say that I am an experienced observer of that genre in the Japanese music industry. However, my feeling is that singer Kohei Fukuda（福田こうへい）is looking more and more like the heir apparent to the late great Haruo Minami（三波春夫）, and perhaps others are, too. Fukuda has been on the Kohaku Utagassen 3 times as of this date, and the last couple of times including the broadcast a few nights ago, he sang "Tokyo Gorin Ondo"（東京五輪音頭）, a staple in Minami's long discography. And I fully expect that he will do so again at the actual opening ceremonies of the 2020 Games in Tokyo.

Of course, there have been other Olympic-themed kayo over the decades. One other example is "Olympic no Uta" (The Olympic Song) as sung by Ichiro Fujiyama（藤山一郎）and fellow singer Keiko Arai（荒井恵子）who had her 15 minutes in the spotlight during the 1950s. It's a proud march that I could see the former doing in his sleep.

I've often called lyricist Yu Aku（阿久悠）the Irving Berlin of Japanese songwriting but I remember when Berlin himself appeared in the 1943 movie "This is the Army" as this lowly private singing "Oh, How I Hate To Get Up in the Morning". Berlin gave his humourous take on the army life but there was no doubt about how much he loved America. Whenever Fujiyama sang tunes like his trademark "Tokyo Rhapsody"（東京ラプソディ）and "Olympic no Uta", I also got that same feeling from him about Japan that Berlin had about the USA.

"Olympic no Uta" was released in 1952 and was created by Kazuyuki Yamada and Shinichi Takata（山田千之・高田信一）. When I saw that release date, I was a bit confused since Fujiyama was quite clear about his hopes of a Tokyo Games in the lyrics but as it turned out, the song was used as part of the campaign for Japan's participation in the 1952 Helsinki Games. Tokyo wouldn't get official approval to hold its own Olympics until 1959 with the actual Games being held in October 1964.

Unlike "Tokyo Gorin Ondo" which has all the raucous fun of a Japanese summer festival, "Olympic no Uta" is more in the "let's-stand-up-straight-and-tall" vein of being proud of the country. If Fujiyama were still around today and performing on the Kohaku, he would be standing dead centre on the Shibuya stage with a hundred-strong high school chorus backing him up. I couldn't quite imagine anyone quite encapsulating his persona right now but perhaps Kiyoshi Hikawa（氷川きよし）might thanks to his earnestness. As it was though, Fujiyama did have his opportunity to sing "Olympic no Uta" at the 2nd Kohaku Utagassen in that same year of 1952.

Hanko Kagurazaka -- Geisha Waltz (ゲイシャ・ワルツ)

On a recent episode of NHK's "Uta Kon" (うたコン), I saw a guest perform a song called "Geisha Waltz" whose title struck me as something somewhat off-the-wall. A European dance was about as far as it could get culturally from the rarefied atmosphere of the world of the geisha.

And the impetus for its creation simply came from the songwriters' interest in coming up with a song that would counter as the kayo version for "Tennessee Waltz" which had come out in January 1952 as Chiemi Eri's（江利チエミ）debut and became a huge success. As much as that song was soaked in country music, "Geisha Waltz" was about as enka as one could get.

The songwriters were lyricist Yaso Saijo（西条八十）and composer Masao Koga（古賀政男）. One night, the two of them were invited to a geisha house in Kagurazaka, Tokyo (rather nice hilly area close to the current Japanese Self-Defence Force HQ) to watch a performance and there they met a young geisha who had been born Tamako Suzuki（鈴木玉子）in 1931. The J-Wiki article didn't mention where she had said it but apparently Ms. Suzuki was bold enough to blurt out "I absolutely hate being an artist!". Her upfront personality cut through to Koga and she was soon scouted into Columbia Records, much to Ms. Suzuki's parents' dismay.

A few singles into her new career as a kayo singer, Suzuki was now Hanko Kagurazaka（神楽坂はん子）and she released "Geisha Waltz" which was indeed created by her two benefactors, Koga and Saijo. The song and the singer became overnight hits. Afterwards, there were other hits and two appearances on the Kohaku Utagassen in 1953 and 1954, but then in 1955, she suddenly retired for some reason...something about personal guarantorship on J-Wiki but I couldn't quite get the meaning.

There was a successful comeback several years later in 1968 but after the 1970s, Kagurazaka left show business for good and lived a very quiet life until her death in 1995 at the age of 64 from liver cancer. A search of her residence following her passing revealed a lot of empty shochu bottles scattered all over the place. Again, I'm translating this info from J-Wiki.

However her legacy has lived on through "Geisha Waltz" and her other hits. The song has been covered by a number of singers.

Chiemi Eri -- Tennessee Waltz (テネシーワルツ)

This is a song that has been heard in the two homes that my family has had since I was a toddler. It certainly helped that my parents were long into the country music thing at the time. "Tennessee Waltz", written by Redd Stewart and composed by Pee Wee King, was released in 1948 but arguably the most famous version of it came from singer Patti Page above.

Now as much as I heard "Tennessee Waltz" on TV shows such as "Hee Haw" and annual showings of "The Grand Ole Opry", I was also introduced to the Japanese cover of the romantic ballad early in my life with the most famous cover by the late Chiemi Eri（江利チエミ）when she released it in January 1952 as her debut single at the tender age of 14 (I gotta say, though, that the above picture of her sure doesn't look 14)!. Eri's version had a mix of the original lyrics by Stewart and Japanese lyrics by Takashi Otowa（音羽たかし）.

For Eri, "Tennessee Waltz" was a huge hit, selling 400,000 records and becoming the singer's trademark tune. Strangely enough, even though Eri appeared on the Kohaku Utagassen 16 consecutive times from 1953 to 1968, she never sang her debut song on the program.

The Japanese version of "Tennessee Waltz" has frankly taken on legendary status since it's been covered by numerous singers ranging from Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）to Atsushi from EXILE.

The impetus for me to write about the song tonight was that I heard a wonderful version of it by enka singer Kaori Mizumori（水森かおり）. Mizumori is known as the Queen of the Regional Songs, and this is about as far-flung a region as she has ever sung about.

Hibari Misora -- Ringo Oiwake (リンゴ追分)

Back in late June last year, I had been eager to catch my first ever "Kayo Concert" episode since it's theme was of Hibari Misora (美空ひばり) and Ikuzo Yoshi (吉幾三) was one of the guests on the show. Unfortunately, I did not have a particularly good time watching it (I hardly knew any of Madam Misora's songs at that point in time) even with one of my favourite singers on stage in all his husky, slightly scruffy glory. Yoshi sang "Ringo Oiwake" that night, and with it being a slow, quiet and most importantly unfamiliar tune, it failed to grab my attention and I admit that I got bored out of my wits. The only thing I noted was that he may have sung the song because it has got something to do with apples, which seem to be the pride and joy of the prefecture he came from (Aomori). With that impression of "Ringo Oiwake" in mind, I was afraid of touching it again, and I never did in the year that followed.

(Unfortunately the video has been taken down.)

Yoshi did a good job.

However, in the recent months my interest in the song was revived, thanks to this year's jazzed up rendition of hit during the Misora Memorial episode that made me give "Ringo Oiwake" a second chance, and it being one of my Grandpa's favourite tunes - I only learnt of that a couple of weeks ago. Though it was the latter that pushed me to give the original another go, and this time, I actually liked it. I was not expecting that.

The funky, jazzy version by Ego-Wrappin'.

Listening to "Ringo Oiwake" (again), I must say that I enjoyed the richness of Misora's voice as she crooned forlornly, especially as she dragged the word "Ringo", and its solemn, rhythmic music gives the song an air of melancholy to it. According to J-Canuck's article on this song, during the spoken part, our heroine, while at first ecstatic about the beauty brought to her by the flowers in spring, she is later reminded by the falling petals of her deceased mother. So as the song plays out, you can just imagine her sitting alone in an apple orchard amongst the trees in full bloom admiring them sadly. Just tugs on your heartstrings, doesn't it? "Ringo Oiwake" also struck me as somewhat Minyo-like, more so during the parts of the song when the music stops and Misora carries on singing, and of course when she goes, "Eeeeh".

"Ringo Oiwake" was released in 1952 and was Madam Misora's 5th best selling single (I can now understand why), selling a total of around 1.3 million copies. It was used as the theme song to "Ringo-en no Shojo" (リンゴ園の少女) that starred Misora, and there's even a plaque to commemorate the song in an apple orchard in the city of Hirosaki, Aomori. But surprisingly, she only sang it once on the Kohaku in 1979 during a special appearance medley. Writing the lyrics to "Ringo Oiwake" was Fujio Ozawa (小沢不二夫),  and Masao Yoneyama (米山正夫) was responsible for the music.

Right, I mentioned that "Ringo Oiwake" was one of grandad's favourite songs. Well, to be specific, he liked the Mandarin cover. It's called "Ping Guo Hua" (蘋果花... Apple flower), and the lyrics have Chinese singer Yang Yan (楊燕) singing about the one that got away rather than reminiscing about a deceased family member.

amazon.co.jp

 I wonder what gramps would think if he knew that I too enjoy the stuff he used to listen to.

Hachiro Kasuga -- Akai Lamp no Shuressha (赤いランプの終列車)

The Preeminent Enka Singer's debut single has a rather distinctive opening, don't you think? It sounds like a railway train coming alive, moving slowly as the engine heats up before picking up the pace as it leaves the station. And throughout the whole song, the music sounds like the train is just chugging along through the countryside or the city.

Anyway, 'Akai Lamp no Shuressha' or 'Last Train with the red lamp', written by Yoshiro Okura (大倉芳郎) and composed by Yoshi Eguchi (江口夜詩) was released in 1952. I don't think it did as well in terms of sales when compared to his more jaunty 8th single 'Otomi-San' from 1954. Can't say for sure since there was no write up on the song, but it definitely allowed him to gain some recognition. And he only sang it once at the 26th Kohaku in 1975 (Aw man, if I was there at that time, my vote would go to the white team!).

But whenever I see Kasuga taking turns to sing when performing with other singers like his best pal and fellow Enka singer, Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也) or the gentle Chiyoko Shimakura (島倉千代子), the song of choice seemed to be 'Akai Lamp no Shuressha'.

Moving on, in 2007 a plaque to remember the song was added at/near the train station of Kasuga's hometown of Aizubange, Fukushima, 3 years after a bronze statue of the singer himself was put up. Hmm, I must visit that place some time and take a photo with the statue... and maybe visit his memorial museum too.

Here's Kasuga singing the song in 1984 in his usual double-breasted suit with bow tie.

                                                                    http://otashya.exblog.jp/14769102

Hibari Misora -- Ringo Oiwake （リンゴ追分）

The name Hibari Misora（美空ひばり） had been mentioned within my home for years and years before I finally figured out who this person really was. Once I started getting interested in kayo kyoku in the early 1980s and the Kohaku Utagassen became a regular viewing event in Toronto, Misora's legend seeped into my head. My mother told me a few times that the Queen of Kayo Kyoku was held in such awe that on the Kohaku specials she appeared on, even the most popular and most seasoned singers were supposedly terrified of even approaching her backstage. And though Misora stood very tall on the stage and TV, she was all of 147 cm (less than 5 ft) tall. That is presence.

One of Misora's most famous songs came from 1952. "Ringo Oiwake" (Forked Road in the Apple Orchard) stands out for me for Masao Yoneyama's（米山正夫） melody and Misora's vocals. Yoneyama's music evokes the image of that wooden horse-drawn cart clunking down the dirt road amongst the apple trees, and then there is the way Misora draws out the phrasing of "Ringooooooooooo". I'm not sure if the singer and the people around her had intended it, but that elongated expression reminds me of the old-fashioned declarations from sweet potato wagons that I still heard even within the streets of my old bedroom town of Ichikawa. And then there was her voicing of one single vowel, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh" which seems to musically paint the image of a single petal from an apple blossom just flying its random path through the air after being torn off by the wind.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2t9VNpsBH4

But then there is the spoken part in the middle of the song in which Misora talks in the voice of that girl she was when she had first sung "Ringo Oiwake". She speaks about how she loves the blooming of the flowers before saying that the eventual shedding of their petals brings sad memories of her dead mother in Tokyo, perhaps due to the events of World War II. For people who were growing up or who were already grown up in the 1950s, that spoken part must have brought a lot of tears to the surface. In total, the lyrics, music and Misora's slow and controlled delivery work together to illustrate a canvas of simple beauty and peace in the countryside, perhaps in contrast to the organized chaos and pollution of the re-industrializing cities. They could also illustrate the impermanence of life and how that girl has to smile through the tears and just keep going on steadily if not all that quickly.

"Ringo Oiwake" was first released in May 1952 when Misora was just 15 years old. It broke a record for the most successful single in the postwar era at the time, selling 700,000 records. Ultimately, it sold 1.3 million records and is ranked No. 5 within the singer's most successful releases.

At the beginning of the article, I mentioned how much awe Misora attracted. Well, in that video just above, I noticed how the audience kept very silent although the familiar introduction to "Ringo Oiwake" came on as she came down the steps. Only when she finally reached the stage did the people start applauding. In 1979, Misora appeared on the Kohaku Utagassen for her 18th and final time as a special guest. She had been an annual presence on the NHK New Year's Eve special but in the early 1970s, the national network didn't invite her with the reason being her brother's gang-related dealings (although NHK never announced the connection publicly). She was very unhappy with the slight and refused to appear on the show for several years until that 1979 edition. It was the first and last time for her to perform "Ringo Oiwake" on the Kohaku. I could only imagine what the atmosphere was like in NHK Hall.

Hibari Misora -- O-Matsuri Mambo （お祭りマンボ）

In Japan, there are simply 2 types of people when it comes to a summer mikoshi (portable shrine) festival: those who carry the mikoshi, and those who watch those who carry the mikoshi. I was invited some years ago by a couple of my students to join in the "fun" of carrying one since I had never done it before. I learned the hard way (which is usually the default way for me) that I should be a watcher not a carrier. Another thing I learned is that veteran mikoshi carriers don't like greenhorns who look like they're not having fun carrying them. Consider me a wiser if sore student of Japanese culture.

Hibari Misora's（美空ひばり） classic "O-Matsuri Mambo" (Festival Mambo) of 1952 was her 9th single. It's another one of those old enka songs for which I remember the melody but not the title nor the original singer. But the other night, NHK's "Kayo Concert" had its customary tribute show to the legendary Misora, and this was one of the songs featured. "O-Matsuri Mambo", written and composed by Rokuro Hara（原六朗）, has nothing to do with any Latin American melodies but it does carry the energy of any festival anywhere. And in Japan, they do love their festivals. Misora sings in the raucous patter that a lot of the eager festival participants yell out in, and the song seems to go through the day (or the night) that a festival burns through, until that last verse in which Misora slows down noticeably to signal the exhausted but satisfying end to a wonderfully chaotic time....until at the very end, when she revs it up once more to let everyone know that another day of merriment is on the way.

As with many a Misora song, many artists have given their take on "O-Matsuri Mambo", including AKB 48 at the concert commemorating the 23rd anniversary of the singer's passing. No doubt, as this summer gets underway in Japan, there will probably as many performances of this song as mikoshi rumbling through the streets. I'll be watching.

Hibari Misora -- Hitori Bocchi no Christmas (ひとりぼっちのクリスマス）

Well, this is quite the revelation. A week ago, I introduced this blog's tribute to Japanese Christmas songs with what I had thought was the first domestically produced Xmas tune, Yuming's "Lodge de Matsu Christmas". To be honest, there was a small part of me....under layers of unnecessary fat...that wondered if there couldn't have been an earlier musical tribute to the Yuletide. After all, Christmas was being celebrated to a certain extent even in the postwar years in Japan.

Just on a whim, after writing my entry on Naomi Sagara, I just threw in the name Hibari Misora（美空ひばり） and Christmas into the YouTube engine, and immediately I got this song called "Hitori Bocchi no Christmas" (A Lonely Christmas). At first, I thought perhaps this was one of the Queen of Kayo Kyoku's later songs that hadn't been released as a single in the 70s or 80s. Then, I listened to it. It was definitely something from much earlier. Although "Jingle Bells" bursts in the middle of this short song, the overall feel is somewhat sad as the title suggests.

I decided to dig a bit deeper about this song. And I quickly found a blog that had an entry on it. From that entry, I found out that Misora was all of 15 years of age when she sang it...incredible, considering how she sounds in this video...in 1952. The song was written and composed by Masao Yoneyama(米山正夫）. Recording Xmas songs in Japan was not a common occurrence at the time and the actual thought of picking up a barrel of Kentucky Fried Chicken for December 25 was non-existent when the people there were still picking up the pieces from the Second World War. Misora was singing this song for all of the boys and girls growing up at that time, according to the blog entry, to warm up their hearts and give them hope for the Christmases yet to come.

The blog can be found here: http://88123516.at.webry.info/200612/article_7.html

courtesy of macmagocha70
from Flickr