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.
Credits
I would like to give credit where credit is due. Videos are from YouTube and other sources such as NicoNico while Oricon rankings and other information are translated from the Japanese Wikipedia unless noted.
The above is a shot of a menchi katsu（メンチカツ）shop on one of the back streets of Asakusa in Tokyo. One of my friends had recommended it to me as one of the best in town. Considering how big Japan's capital is, that's saying quite a lot, but getting a freshly deep-fried one in that paper sleeve and taking a bite, I could understand my friend's endorsement. Basically, think of a croquette without the mashed potato and just a loose conglomeration of ground beef. It makes for a nice snack before dinner.
Now, this song's appearance on the blog all came about from a request from commenter YMOfan04 who had asked me whether I knew some 70s or 80s kayo kyokuwith an Eastern European flavour; perhaps something with a polka rhythm. I pointed her toward some of the Fashion Music and exotic kayo songs, but at the same time, I also plugged in a request into the Yahoo Japan search engine.
One of the songs that popped up was Koji Tsuruta's（鶴田浩二）"Uramachi Polka" (Backstreet Polka). Just from listening to it, I knew that this wouldn't fit into YMOfan04's parameters since it sounded quite old. And that was the problem there...I couldn't track down when this jaunty kayo was first released. My first attempt was met with failure since the song apparently didn't show up in Tsuruta's J-Wiki discography and the YJ search engine couldn't give me any answers either.
However, I wouldn't take NO for an answer and I gave it another go. This time, I could find out from the images shown in the search engine that "Uramachi Polka" had been the flip side to another Tsuruta song "Ame Shitatare Chanson"（雨滴れシャンソン...Raindrop Chanson） which had been released in July 1954. It isn't 100% proof but I'll take it. In any case, "Uramachi Polka" sounds like a 1950s kayo about the sweet magic of a polka to massage the spirit and soul of a person who's suffering from heartache. Written by Tetsuo Miyagawa（宮川哲夫）and composed by Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）, it certainly has that jaunty rhythm of a polka but also has that familiar kayo melody.
Just out of whimsical curiosity, I wondered about what the first Mood Kayo（ムード歌謡）to appear in Japanese music history was. With all of the mournful backing choruses, bars and broken romances, who was the first singer or band to provide the city cousin of enka?
Reading up on the history of Mood Kayo on J-Wiki, I learned that the roots may have been planted by jazz singer and old-time kayo crooner Dick Mine（ディックミネ）. A couple of songs attributed to him as the origins of the bar-focused genre are "Yogiri no Blues" (夜霧のブルース) in 1947, and this particular song released in October 1954, "Ame no Sakaba de" (At a Rainy Bar).
The fact that it has that mournful melody by Namiryu Hirakawa（平川浪竜）and it takes place in a drinking establishment certainly fulfills that Mood Kayo definition. Minoru Shimizu's（清水みのる）lyrics seem to have either a buddy helping out another guy who's literally drowning his tears in drink or a soon-to-be ex-paramour telling his inconsolable mistress to stop drinking and head home to face the inevitable. Not exactly the happiest of scenarios but perhaps it and "Yogiri no Blues" did start up a new genre in Japanese music.
Merry Christmas to one and all! I'm hoping that all of you who may be reading this are enjoying December 25th with family and friends and savoring the amity and smells of the season (turkey, potatoes and the like). The Kyoku family is certainly doing and so, and I believe that they'll be having an appropriate get-together later on tonight.
For the final Xmas 2024 entry on "Kayo Kyoku Plus", I've decided to go with a special Reminiscings of Youth song, and what better song to put on here than "White Christmas". Now of course, Bing Crosby is the traditional representative for this perennially sung Yuletide tune but I did want to begin with chanteuse Barbra Streisand because she wasn't only on that early 1970s Ronco compilation LP "A Christmas Gift" that my parents got me, but she was the first entertainer that I heard to sing the Irving Berlin classic while including that mystery first verse that's been usually omitted in other renderings of the song because it just took away (if briefly) that feeling of snow and cold and Christmas atmosphere. Apparently, Streisand's version was first heard on her 1967 album"A Christmas Album", and it's a solemn yet hopeful rendition.
"White Christmas" was first brought to ears in the 1942 holiday-themed musical "Holiday Inn" starring Crosby and Fred Astaire. It was one of many songs that was featured in this flick regarding Crosby's character's whimsical pursuit of running a countryside hotel that was only open on national holidays.
But "Holiday Inn" was a movie that I wouldn't discover until far into my life (actually, it was the Xmas episode of "SCTV" that introduced me to the existence of "Holiday Inn"). Before then, I had been accustomed to hearing it on those Crosby TV specials annually, Elvis Presley's cover of it, and then the movie "White Christmas" (directed by Michael Curtiz, the same guy behind the legendary "Casablanca") which came out in October 1954. Reading through the Wikipedia article on it, I'm not sure whether "White Christmas" the movie had been meant as a direct reconstruction of "Holiday Inn" despite the key presence of a countryside inn.
The movie was an annual ritual in my television life, especially at a time when I had known no other Turner Classic Movies-friendly Xmas flick at the time; "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Miracle on 42nd Street" would come to my attention many years later. "White Christmas" had a bigger main cast than "Holiday Inn" and between the bookends of the rendition of the song, the movie was chock-filled with some great song-and-dance moments (I've already talked about "Snow"here) such as "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing" with Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen, and may I say that Kaye was a great addition in terms of both his dancing and comedic prowess compared to Astaire who wouldn't join this movie and Donald O'Connor who had to bow out due to illness.
Of course, there is also the whole "Sisters" bit with the Haynes Sisters and then the parody by Bing and Danny. I'd always wondered whether the latter was ad-libbed since the laughter from the guys looked so genuine. And as it turned out, it was.
Is it a perfect Xmas movie? Maybe not...there were a few scenes in there that had me thinking "Yep, it was way back in the mid-20th century, wasn't it?" but that was then and this is now. Also, I've never been a fan of that latter-half manufactured tiff between Bob and Betty but I guess the writers felt that there had to be some conflict when things may have gotten too cozy for the couples too soon. Still, after not having seen "White Christmas" in many years now, I wouldn't mind taking another gander at it someday.
In any case, what are some other big songs from Japan that were hitting the airwaves in 1954?
Well, for the fourth year in a row, "Kayo Kyoku Plus" has managed to reach 1000 articles in a year. I'm pretty sure that we won't be breaking the 1,103-article record that we achieved last year but that's OK. There's no need to push things anymore. Anyways, this year's 1000th article will be dedicated to the weekly Reminiscings of Youth and also we'll be covering Christmas again as we approach December 25th.
Let's take a look at a Yuletide classic that is literally centuries old. "Deck the Halls" goes all the way back to the 16th century to a Welsh melody when it was a winter carol known as "Nos Galan". The English lyrics were written by Thomas Oliphant back in 1862. My first time with "Deck the Halls" was back probably in kindergarten in the early 1970s when my teacher sang it and then taught it to us moppets.
Then, not too long after, my family got that Ronco album which was making the rounds on TV commercials, "A Christmas Gift", with one of the tracks being "Deck the Halls" as performed by Percy Faith and his orchestra. Faith already has representation on the blog for being the original provider of "Theme from a Summer Place" which was covered by AOR duo The Milky Way in 1979. However, Faith tackles his rendition of "Deck the Halls" with gusto as it sounds like something from a King Arthur movie soundtrack as he and his Knights of the Round Table go forth to celebrate Christmas. Apparently, this version first appeared in 1954.
Of course, there have been tons of renditions of "Deck the Halls" over the years, but one of the most unusual covers was by the jazz vocal trio Lambert, Hendricks & Ross in 1962. Now, I've heard of Dave Lambert, Jon Hendricks and Annie Ross as the pioneers of vocalese which involves placing nimbly-delivered words and phrases within the usual improvised arrangement of jazz instruments, replacing those instruments. The Manhattan Transfer also picked up on the hip lingo, even coming up with their 1985 album"Vocalese".
Lambert, Hendricks & Ross' version was something that I found in a Xmas jazz compilation while I was living in Japan, and it was actually titled "Deck Us All With Boston Charlie". Before you could say Weird Al Yankovic, I could tell from the title and the intro that this was going to be a wacky parody of the original "Deck the Halls". I had assumed all these years that Boston Charlie was some near-lethal form of hooch that boozehounds could get in the various dives and saloons in the not-so-nice areas of town but it was actually just a play on the title. However, that fade-in intro where the three start shrieking the chorus in improbable harmony has always had me imagining the sots stumbling around at night trying to get into that hole in the wall.
Then, everything gets set right with a snappy drum and Lambert, Hendricks & Ross plow into the song with some major scatting while a piano player nimbly skates over the keys like a Gold Medal-winning figure skater. But just before the three end up taking us listeners to something far more respectable, we get thrown back into the back alley as Boston Charlie does its thing and the trio shriek their way off into the darkness. So, "Deck Us All" is more scat than vocalese but below you can see them handle the latter.
So, what were some of the big Japanese hits coming out in 1962? I've got three right here.
Toronto got its first snowfall this morning with a couple of inches expected by the evening. I'm not sure whether this is the beginning of a snow-filled winter but as such, the accumulation may be enough for the local kids to take delight outside. Mayo, Kayo and Nayo Kyoku with Mr. Calico seem to think so. Anyways, I thought that it would be nice on this Hump Day to add at least one more Author's Pick to finish up 2024 since the last one in tribute to Casablanca. The theme here is songs with "snow" in the title.
To wrap up, I've already got Bing Crosby aboard "Kayo Kyoku Plus" so why not have him do his rendition of "Snow" from the 1954 movie "White Christmas"? Well, he's got his buddies helping him out, too.
So, I recently joined the fan club of an early Showa singer-songwriter from King Records who was known for jazz and created works for Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎).
Yes, that's right, I joined the Hayashi Isao Shinobu Kai (林伊佐緒偲ぶ会).
Wait, what?
No, I did not glitch out. I really did join Isao Hayashi's (林伊佐緒) club, making it the third posthumous fan club I've joined in the span of four months. This is in addition to Hachi's and Bin Uehara's (上原敏)... Y'know, I feel like it wasn't too long ago when I was lamenting about how hard it was to find and join these shinobu kai (posthumous fan clubs). I certainly did not expect a membership speedrun.
To give a bit of context, I'd been offered the opportunity to enter the club from its chairman, Toru Yamane (山根徹), with whom I'd been interacting with from time to time on social media through a shared interest inAkira Matsudaira (松平晃). Thinking that it'd be a good experience, I quickly agreed to it. This would give me the chance to learn more about the long-lived artist and his illustrious career, and perhaps even see what Hachi was like through the perspective of the Hayashi fan club. Plus, it would give me the excuse to finally visit Yamaguchi prefecture for those Hayashi exhibitions.
Anyways, I wouldn't say I know next to nothing about Hayashi, considering his huge presence (both metaphorically and physically) in the kayo world, but I currently only know the following basics about Hayashi besides the fact that he was a composer behind Hachi's hits:
1. He is dubbed Japan's first singer-songwriter.
2. He was the Japan Singer Association's 4th chairman.
3. He dabbled in jazz-minyo.
With regards to 3, that was exactly how I got to know of him ages ago. I somehow came across his funky "Mamurogawa Boogie" (真室川ブギ) and marveled at the wild mixture of the cosmopolitan Western jazz and countryside Japanese minyo. The latter was never easy for me to stomach (even now), so Hayashi essentially added the sugar to make it go down. He was my first introduction to this combination way, way, way before I even registered the existence of Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴) and Ryoichi Hattori (服部良一). Joining the club gave me the impetus to re-open Hayashi's treasure trove of jazz-minyo that I'd unwittingly forgotten in favour of Mr. Nakano.
Hayashi had been mixing up the two genres since the prewar era, but only became more recognised for it in the postwar era, the aforementioned "Mamurogawa Boogie" being the primary example. Another one of this postwar creations I just dug up and took a keen liking too was "Konpira Swing."
"Konpira Swing" was released in January 1954. I think this was around when the postwar jazz and Kasagi Shizuko (笠置シヅ子)Boogie-Woogie craze was cooling off, but it didn't stop Hayashi from making this snazzy, dance-worthy number.
"Konpira Swing" was based on "Konpira Fune-fune," (金毘羅船々) a minyo native to Kagawa prefecture on the island of Shikoku. This folk song originally centered around the town of Kotohira, known for the Konpira Daigongen (金毘羅大権現) deity. Besides the J-Wiki, I was reading up on the tune via this old Shikoku Shimbun project detailing 110 cultural "objects" of Kagawa. You can look it up here.
From my understanding, the Konpira Daigongen, which resides in the Kotohiragu temple on Mt. Zouzu, was quite the popular religious pilgrimage spot, and there were ferries that brought you to Kagawa from Osaka. The minyo was based on this ferry route, the boats literally called the Konpira Fune (Konpira Boat), which began service in 1744. The recognisable "shura-shu-shu-shu" bit is supposed to be onomatopoeia for the tail wind catching the boat sails and sending you straight to Kotohira. The Naka no Gori region mentioned in the lyric seems to point to the modern-day Kagawa Nakatado-gun district where temple is. On top of this, "Konpira Fune-fune" used in zashiki asobi, or private geisha entertainment, back in the Edo and Meiji periods and sung while playing little party games. It's still used today at the likes of festivals and cultural exchanges.
Re-working the lyrics to fit Hayashi's raucous arrangement was Yano Ryo (矢野亮). Yano kept to the source material in the first stanza, but immediately took a sharp left into humourous territory. This has Hayashi taking us on a whirlwind ride of randomness in his carefree, breezy style, from frying a variety of tempura to strolling the streets of modern 1950s Tokyo. Interestingly, I think the original folk song's signature "shura-shu-shu-shu" found application in the Yano's seemingly bizarre mix of situations. The tempura bubbling in the hot oil, the kite (bird of prey) swooping around eyeing the young tofu seller's aburaage, slurping up sake and whiskey on a magically empty wallet. These sound like they'd go "shura-shu-shu-shu" too, don't they?
One of the reasons why I like the fusion jazz kayo/minyo/zokuyo from the 1930s to the 1950s is the element of humour - the singers themselves sounding like they were having fun recording it too. "Konpira Swing," as I had just described, is a great example of that, I think.
( ﾟдﾟ)
Admittedly, even I didn’t expect to join Hayashi’s fan club because I didn’t consider myself a big enough fan of the musician. Those around me expressed surprise too because I rarely, if ever, bring him up in my kayo rambles. But, I think this will be a good experience and I look forward to getting to know Hayashi better.
Right, then. Time to dig around for some Hachi-Hayashi compositions.
A few days ago on Thursday, my fellow KKP writer and co-administrator Noelle Tham posted her "Noelle's Favourite Hachiro Kasuga Songs Composed by Tadaharu Nakano"(中野忠晴作曲お気に入りの春日八郎曲) article in tribute to the fact that the First Enka Singer had been born in 1924, a hundred years ago. She also kindly extended the invitation to anyone else involved in the blog to provide their own angle on the late Fukushima native who had passed away in 1991 at the age of 67.
Well, I'm never going to decline that invitation especially when it seems as if I haven't heard many renditions of his old songs recently on shows such as "Uta Con"（うたコン）. But not being as much of an expert on Kasuga as Noelle, I hadn't been sure about how to go about it. Therefore, I've opted to take a slowly, slowly approach and take a look at his first several appearances on the national broadcaster's New Year's Eve special, the Kohaku Utagassen.
For the record, Kasuga appeared a total of 21 times on the Kohaku ranging from 1954 to 1989. His longest continuous stretch went from 1956 (the 7th edition) to 1969 (the 20th).
So, without further ado:
(1954) Otomi-San (お富さん) 1st appearance on the 5th edition in 1954
Noelle posted an article on "Otomi-san", based on the kabuki play of a cad trying to extort money from a wealthy merchant's concubine only to find out that the lass is his ex-girlfriend. Well, that's dang awkward...sounds perfect for a rom-com/thriller movie if updated. And as Noelle pointed out, the melody by Masanobu Tokuchi (渡久地政信) sounds so up-and-at-'em cheerful so I'm hoping that there was at least some humour in the original play. Actually, I got to know "Otomi-san" through a skit involving the late comedian Ken Shimura（志村けん）and aidoru/tarentoYoko Ishino（石野よう子）. You can take a look below at the video at 4:46.
One of the most famous kayo kyoku around and perhaps Kasuga's most representative recording, "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" is a melancholy song reflecting what was happening in Japan at the time as it struggled to recover from the ashes of war. Tens of thousands of people were being heavily encouraged to move from the countryside to the cities to work in the factories and the offices to get the nation back on its feet again, and the song itself was the story of one person making that lonely move away from his hometown. The above video shows Kasuga performing "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" for the 2nd time on the 1969 edition. He wouldn't appear again until the end of 1974.
(1957) Haha no Tayori（母の便り）3rd appearance on the 8th edition in 1957
I was scrolling down the Kasuga file on KKP to see if either Noelle or I had actually covered it. Maybe it's included in one of Noelle's compilations but I know now that it hasn't been done under my watch, so here it is. Written by Ryo Yano（矢野亮）and composed by Akira Maki（真木陽）, as with "Wakare no Ippon Sugi", "Haha no Tayori"(A Letter from Mother) is something to get the tears flowing as a son working far away from his family gets that letter from his mother to see how things are (and probably when he's coming back). The opening bars of "Haha no Tayori" say it all: it feels/sounds like a mother diligently doing the regular chores at the farmhouse knowing that her boy is giving it his all for home and country.
(1958) Wakare no Toudai（別れの燈台）4th appearance on the 9th edition in 1958
Another song that I haven't covered in the Kasuga file, initially I'd thought that "Wakare no Toudai"(Farewell at the Lighthouse) was a song of heartbreak because my impression was that the titular lighthouse would be the ideal sight in the distance for a romance to end tearfully. But perhaps I've been watching one too many J-Dramas in the past. Reading the lyrics by Kikutaro Takahashi（髙橋掬太郎） , it's more along the theme of the immediately preceding two songs...a man leaves his seaside town by ship to a faraway place in Japan or even completely overseas to make his own mark. Kenji Yoshidaya（吉田矢健治）was responsible for the wistful melody.
(1959) Tokyo no Ari（東京の蟻）5th appearance on the 10th edition in 1959
Both Noelle and I have given our respective articles regarding "Tokyo no Ari", and now having this song alongside some of Kasuga's other entries here, this 1959 hit stands out even more for its Mood Kayo sense complete with tinkling piano and bluesy saxophone. The theme of loneliness in the big city continues here as well but while the others dealt with it from the wistful rural side of things, "Tokyo no Ari" has Kasuga commiserating over his beer from the frustrating city side as he feels little different from Family Formicidae in terms of his service to the nation.
For all of you enka fans out there, yes, that is indeed singer Hiroshi Miyama（三山ひろし）having fun at last year's Yosakoi Festival in Kochi Prefecture on the island of Shikoku. According to Kids Web Japan, the annual tradition began in 1954 following the creation of Yosakoi Naruko Odori (Yosakoi Naruko Dance) based on the minyo "Yosakoi Bushi"（よさこい節...Yosakoi Song）. The dancing is accompanied by a couple of clappers known as naruko.
In July 1965, enka singer Harumi Miyako（都はるみ）recorded her version of "Yosakoi Naruko Odori", which was originally written and composed by Eisaku Takemasa（武政英策）and arranged by Shosuke Ichikawa（市川昭介）.
Now, the reason that I'm writing about this minyo in the first place is that I just watched the first "Uta Con"（うたコン）this year with real live guests with one of them being pop and R&B singer-songwriter Yu Sakai（さかいゆう）. He managed to perform a very stylized and stylish rearrangement of "Yosakoi Naruko Odori" with hefty dollops of soul and jazz and electric guitar and a brass section hopping onboard. In fact, the above video had comments stating that they came over from watching the "Uta Con" broadcast to catch it once more.
Sakai's version is on his double-CD BEST album "Sakai Yu no Playlist ~ Shiro to Kuro"（さかいゆうのプレイリスト［白と黒］...Yu Sakai's Playlist: Black & White） from December 2023 to commemorate his 15th anniversary in the music industry. Another reason that I'm writing about this is that not too long ago, I'd also made note of another new twist on an old minyo "Kaigara Bushi"（貝殻節）by Minyo Crusaders.
There have been plenty of raucous kayo kyoku celebrating the fun of drinking with buddies but at the same time, there have also existed Japanese songs when one drinks alone in pain and sadness. Arguably, the most famous example could be Hibari Misora's（美空ひばり）"Kanashii Sake"（悲しい酒）from 1966.
I made another discovery of the Japanese equivalent of crying in one's beer and that would be enka singer Michiya Mihashi's（三橋美智也）"Sake no Nigasa yo ~ Shin Souma Bushi" (The Bitterness of Drink ~ A New Souma Song). Recorded and released in January 1954, this was composed by Toshiro Yamaguchi（山口俊郎）and written by Tadashi Yamazaki（山崎正）. According to J-Wiki's article on Mihashi, "Sake no Nigasa yo" ranks in at No. 19 on his list of million-selling songs.
Judging from Mihashi's delivery and the arrangement of Yamaguchi's melody, I had assumed that it was based on min'yo which is traditional Japanese folk music. Certainly seeing that subtitle of "Shin Souma Bushi", especially with that last word, I did think my assumption was the correct one. It was indeed fortunate that J-Wiki even had an article for Shin Souma Bushi in which I found out that the music was min'yo originating from the Souma region in Fukushima Prefecture, north of Tokyo. Apparently this music was relatively new, having been developed some time following World War II based on some of the older min'yo. Shin Souma Bushi then became popular nationwide. The version below is the original 1954 recording.
Last night, when I wrote about the venerable children's song "Te no Hira wo Taiyou ni"（手のひらを太陽に）from 1962, I first sent a shoutout to an even older kids' tune that the character of Tomo from "Tomo-chan wa Onna no Ko!"（トモちゃんは女の子！...Tomo-chan is a Girl!）sang at karaoke, much to the mirth of the guy she loves and to her utter embarrassment. Yep, I do feel her pain.
Now, "Donguri Korokoro"(An Acorn Rolled Down) is a children's song that is apparently now part of the public domain so I gather that to mean that no one really has ownership (for you legal eagles, if I've made an error here, please correct me). I'm only using seiyuu Rie Takahashi's（高橋李依）name here because her character Tomo's awesome depiction of the song is so different from the many songs her other popular character Takagi-san did in "Karakai Jouzu na Takagi-san"（からかい上手の高木さん...Skilled Teaser Takagi-san） that I just had to give her the mike, so to speak.
The century-old "Donguri Korokoro" was released in either 1921 or 1922 (for argument's sake, I'll go with the latter year), and it was written by novelist and Japanese literature expert Nagayoshi Aoki（青木存義）and composed by educator Tadashi Yanada（梁田貞）. Soon after the end of World War II, the song was placed into school music textbooks. This tale of errant acorns and loaches was a song that I also often heard here and there over the decades.
I might as well kill two birds (or a cat) with one stone here and also include Tomo-chan's take on another classic "Neko Funjatta" (I Stepped on a Cat). This time, though, I'm not talking about a made-in-Japan kids' song but one whose origins are German and is a song that has been known worldwide, since its probable creation in 1890 by Ferdinand Alfred Gustav Loh according to LS Piano Music. The original title is "Flohwalzer" (The Flea Waltz) although it isn't a waltz, and in Japanese, there are no fleas...just an unlucky cat with back/tail issues. Once again, I used to hear this all the time by folks in band class and other venues when someone just wanted to play around on the 88 keys.
According to J-Wiki, the Japanese version of "Flohwalzer" under the title of "Neko Funjatta" was used in NHK's "Minna no Uta"（みんなのうた）TV vignette series with lyrics by Hiroo Sakata（阪田寛夫）. However in 1954, Toshio Oka（丘灯至夫）placed his own lyrics onto Loh's original music. Going over to English Wikipedia, the song has different titles depending on the nation such as "La Chocolatera" in Spain and "Szamárinduló" (Donkey March) in Hungary.
Personally, I will be looking forward to any more contributions by the Queen of Children's Songs.
Omae ga baka nara ore mo baka (If you're stupid, I'm also stupid)
What an iconic start to a song, don't you think? I can relate to it on a spiritual level, especially on the occasion when a friend/some friends and I share the same dried-out brain cell. This line at the very start of "Uramachi Yakyokyu" is part of the reason why it manages to remain one of my top favourite songs by Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎).
Original take
Of course, I highly doubt Akira Sugie (杉江晃) had the intention of portraying our protagonist and his lover in the same manner as I had implied above, i.e. a bunch of clowns arguing over silly things like the feasibility of eating a live cow. Whole. This tune, instead, follows our protagonist and his love interest in what is very likely a dingy bar in the cramped backstreets of Tokyo. Perhaps they were drawn together over mutual lamentations of being dealt the short hand by the cruel world, but at least they can temporarily take refuge from that in this bar and find solace in each other's company. In contrast, Shin Yamaguchi's (山口進) music sounds quite optimistic with swelling strings and a jaunty rhythm, but maybe it can reflect the momentary joy both characters have in the city's watering hole. Aside from the "baka" line, Hachi's delivery is what I enjoy most out of "Uramachi Yakyoku"... although I think I say that for pretty much all of his songs. His vocal gymnastics really shine here being able to convey a merry mood while still sounding forlorn.
"Uramachi Yakyoku", being one of Hachi's earliest singles released in October 1954, was well-received enough to garner a re-recording later in his career - I'm not exactly sure when, but I think it was in 1970. With songs that get this treatment, I tend to have a clear favourite between the version with an updated melody and a mature-sounding Hachi or the version with a more simplistic melodic arrangement and a young-sounding Hachi. But in the case of "Uramachi Yakyoku", I'd say I like both all the same.
Re-recorded take
Despite being sort of considered one of Hachi's hits, I still feel that "Uramachi Yakyoku" is rather underrated and I don't come across covers of it as often. Fellow King Records legend Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也) provided his rendition of it as part of "Ogon no Uta Goe 2 Mihashi Michiya Kasuga Hachiro wo Utau"(黄金の歌声 2 三橋美智也 春日八郎を歌う), the sequel of the Hachi-Michi collaboration in 1970.
Michi's take
In very recent times, as in quite literally just last week (early July 2022), budding enka singer Yutaka Hyoba (氷馬ゆたか) from The Netherlands had also provided his version too. I'd gotten to know him through Instagram and through the mention of "Uramachi Yakyoku" being a favourite from my beloved Hachi, it seemed like he was inspired to take up the challenge of tackling this old tune. Despite being more inclined to cover newer enka on his YouTube channel, I thought he did a pretty good job with Hachi's work and I look forward to what else he has in store.
P.S. "Uramachi Yakyoku" is one of my go-to choices when I do drop by my regular karaoke "club" haunts. But as much as I love the "baka" line, I admittedly feel slightly self-conscious when singing that in front of the elderly regulars... I can feel myself cringe a little on the inside every time I do. But then again, I reckon it's comparatively better than doing something like "Konna Watashi Janakatta ni" (こんな私じゃなかったに).
As I've mentioned in the past, enka and Mood Kayo can have a number of lyrical themes including the trial and tribulations of work, crying one's sorrows in drink or having that romantic whirlwind (illicit or not).
One other common raison d'etre for an enka ballad or an old kayo regards the pining for a loved one lost due to various circumstances including war. I used to hear one on my parents' stereo in which there was one song that had the very memorable scream of "MOTHER!!!" in Japanese in the middle, perhaps being yelled out by a soldier who was about to lose his life on the battlefield.
Recently on an "Uta Con"（うたコン）episode late last year, there was a rendition of such a song that has probably cleared many tear ducts since it was first introduced. Titled "Ganpeki no Haha" (Mother at the Wharf), it was first released as a single by Akiko Kikuchi（菊池章子）in September 1954, and it was modeled upon a woman named Ise Tanno（端野いせ）* who had visited a wharf frequently (although I'm not sure whether it was every day) in the hopes that her son would return from a Soviet prisoner-of-war camp. You can read the full story at the link here.
Written by Masato Fujita（藤田まさと）and composed by Namiryuu Hirakawa（平川浪竜）**, the sad lyrics are overlaid with an elegant, even slightly buoyant, melody which has often gone hand-in-hand with what a kayo was all about. If I hadn't understood the lyrics, I probably wouldn't have recognized "Ganpeki no Haha" as a cry-worthy tune of loss and forlorn hope. The song did hit a nerve among the Japanese since it sold over a million records.
Many years later in 1971, kayo singer Yuriko Futaba（二葉百合子）provided her version of "Ganpeki no Haha" through an album of covers titled "Futaba Yuriko no Namida no Kayo Gekijo"（二葉百合子の涙の歌謡劇場...Yuriko Futaba's Tearful Song Theatre）, and then a single with "Ganpeki no Haha" was released in February 1972. I don't know how the recorded version sounds like but if it's anything like how Futaba performed it before the TV audiences, then this cover gained a certain grandeur, almost like a Hideo Murata（村田英雄）song. Apparently, according to the J-Wiki article on the song, this version incorporated a rokyoku rhythm.
Through the combined sales of LP records, audiotape and singles, Futaba's "Ganpeki no Haha" did even better than the original by selling more than 2.5 million copies. The song also went as high as No. 3 on the Oricon weeklies and became the 5th-biggest single of 1976. A number of other enka singers since then have covered it including Aya Shimazu（島津亜矢）and Sayuri Ishikawa（石川さゆり）.
*The article regarding the mother includes two different readings of the kanji for her last name: Tanno and Hashino. Not sure if this was by design or the writer simply made a mistake here.
**Not 100% sure on the reading of the first name although according to "Music Brainz", it's being read that way.
Happy Monday to you! Well, while knocking on wood most vigorously, it looks like things just might be turning a positive curve with the pandemic in our province of Ontario since in less than a couple of hours, our Premier will be making an announcement on the timeline for re-opening up the economy. Considering that Doug Ford pounded the slogan "Open for Business" into our heads before COVID-19 hit us, he may be trying to hide some giddiness under that stony face that has been greeting us in daily pressers for the past several weeks. At this point, I think a lot of us will be happy for some good news although a local poll stated that 75% of the population is skittish about opening things up too early.
The surprising thing for me, though, is Tokyo. Despite the Greater Tokyo Area having three times the population of my province, it seems to have only a fraction of the infections that Ontario has been suffering. There are even rumours being bandied about that my old stomping grounds may end up re-opening up a lot earlier although the political leaders and medical experts are insisting that things should be kept under tight control for at least a few more weeks. Well, we shall see (with a healthy dose of skepticism), although if things truly are getting much better there at a much faster rate, they have my envy and gratitude.
In any event, I did PVR another rerun of "Songs of Japanese Spirit" over the weekend which my folks are watching right now. I'm always grateful for the broadcast of these kayo programs from happier times when audiences filled the halls and the singers were all together on stage without the need for remote screens. Not sure how the situation will last on NHK, although according to what I've observed through the previous paragraph, maybe the good ol' days will return soon.
Found this chestnut being performed at the beginning of "Songs of Japanese Spirit", and I think it's one that would be rather appropriate for this time. Titled "Fukeba Tobu yo na" (If You Blow On It, It May Fly) from November 1954, one would think that it's talking about a dandelion seed. However, the lyrics by Juzaburo Tojo（東条寿三郎）relate a happy-go-lucky fellow encouraging the lads that the good times are around the corner if not already here.
The jaunty music is from Masanobu Tokuchi（渡久地政信）who would provide a number of Mood Kayo tunes in the following decade such as Mina Aoe's（青江三奈）"Nagasaki Blues"（長崎ブルース）. However, "Fukeba Toku yo na" has more of a feeling of a cheerful countryside enka although the setting is in the city. And before you think that I've forgotten about the singer, it was recorded by Ichiro Wakahara（若原一郎）who hailed from Yokohama.
Born Nakayoshi Tanokura（田野倉仲義）, the future Wakahara won a prize at the 1948 NHK (Radio) Nodo Jiman（のど自慢）contest, and then made his debut as a singer the following year. According to the J-Wiki entry for Wakahara. "Fukeba Tobu yo na" may have taken its sweet time gaining success since the article states that the song became a hit in 1956! But with that success, Wakahara became a known name in music, and he got his first invitation to the Kohaku Utagassen that year (although he performed a different tune), the first of five consecutive appearances on the NHK special. In the four succeeding appearances, "Fukeba Tobu yo na" was never sung either.
Wakahara would continue releasing singles until 1988 and would pass away in 1990 from liver cancer.
One small riddle that I've had for many years dealt with Yoshimoto Kogyo（吉本興業）, the Japanese comedy conglomerate based in Osaka. Who came up with that theme song for their comedy skits on stage? Folks who have lived in Japan ought to know. It's that appropriately comical muted trumpet tune, at least in the beginning.
Well, it wasn't that hard to track down the answer although I had assumed that it was some jazz orchestra based in Japan which was commissioned to come up with a theme song for the comedy troupe. Actually, though, the song's title is "Somebody Stole My Gal" as recorded by American jazz trombonist Pee Wee Hunt and his orchestra in 1954. I still don't know how the song became part of Yoshimoto legend but from the title alone, it was a good choice since losing that gal is pretty tragicomic.
Hunt was just one of many musicians who came up with their own version of "Somebody Stole My Gal", but the original was created back in 1918 by Leo Wood with Ted Weems and his orchestra getting that first big hit out of it in 1924, when, according to Wikipedia, it became a million-seller and was a No. 1 success for 5 weeks straight, although I couldn't find out what that particular chart was.
The photo above is of Ito Station in Shizuoka Prefecture when my friend and I stayed in the small city of Ito for that one night four years ago. Of course, being a local transportation hub, the surrounding area had its share of shops, cafes and restaurants, and the ocean wasn't too far away either.
Furthermore, alongside airports, it seems like the train station was also the place where romances went to sadly fade away in kayo kyoku. Case in point, Hachiro Kasuga's（春日八郎）"Kosame no Eki ni Bell ga Naru" (The Bell Tolls at the Station in a Light Rain). Well, perhaps I would rather translate that in a more concise way and go with "The Bell Tolls at the Rainy Station".
Originally released in 1954 as one of Kasuga's early singles, it describes the sweet but sorrowful parting of two lovers at the station. Although I couldn't find out whether the depot was based on a real place, I could imagine that it was probably far smaller than even Ito Station and the stationmaster still punched the tickets with that clacking metal set of pincers. That was still the case when I was living in Gunma Prefecture back in the late 1980s and early 1990s.
While Kikutaro Takahashi（高橋掬太郎）was the one behind the bittersweet lyrics, Yoshi Eguchi's（江口夜詩）melody is still quite jaunty as if it were still describing some sort of hustle and bustle around the titular station despite the drama playing out between the man and woman. Perhaps one romantic relationship may be coming to an end (temporarily or permanently), but life still goes on regardless.
The video below has the original 1954 version while the one above, according to the YouTube description, contains a new version which was recorded in 1972 for his "Kasuga Hachiro no Deluxe San-shuu"（春日八郎デラックス３集...Hachiro Kasuga's Deluxe Collection 3）. I have to say that although the original obviously has that nostalgic quality, I really do like the new version since it really brings out Kasuga's voice in a rich way alongside those strings.
Tonight's theme on NHK's "Uta Kon"（うたコン）was trains. It's quite the meaty theme, actually, since Japan is indeed a train nation with so many railways criss-crossing the country like arteries and veins, and there have been so much in the way of kayo featuring the mode of transportation.
One of the first songs on tonight's show was a 1954 tune by Atsuo Okamoto（岡本敦郎）, a singer who hailed from the great sushi haven of Otaru in Hokkaido. "Kogen Ressha wa Iku" (There Goes the Highland Train) is one of those jaunty postwar numbers celebrating folks enjoying the great outdoors as the titular train passes through. It's so cheerful that it could get even me hiking into the mountains (probably won't happen).
Still, the trains can be fun to ride. Anyways, while most of the song has that happy march feeling, there's an instrumental part in there which seems to take things into a more traditional enka pattern for some reason. Athough I have categorized "Kogen Ressha wa Iku" as an enka tune, I think the tune is basically one zippy kayo.
Toshio Oka（丘灯至夫）wrote the lyrics under one of his pen names which is pronounced the same way but has different kanji（丘十四夫）, while Yuuji Koseki（古関裕而）created the melody. As for Okamoto, he appeared on the Kohaku Utagassen in its very early days a total of 7 times between 1952 and 1958 with his first two times being on the original radio broadcast. He performed "Kogen Ressha wa Iku" on his 4th appearance in December 1954 at Tokyo Metropolitan Hibiya Public Hall. I'm sure that his clap-worthy performance had the audience all roused up.
Tonight's "Uta Con"（うたコン）reminded me that today is the birthday of the Queen of Kayo Kyoku, Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）. I think this may be the very first time that I have ever written a song on the blog about Misora that actually landed on her birthday. She would have been 81 years old today.
Well, let's go with a good one. I looked up her article on J-Wiki and found the song that she performed on her first NHK Kohaku Utagassen appearance in 1954 which was the 5th annual show. "Hibari no Madorosu-san"(Hibari's Sailor) was a song released in May of that year, and according to the J-Wiki article, this particular number itself is a special one in that it has been treated as the very first of the "madorosu"kayo(didn't know that there was such a sub-genre). Apparently, Misora would release some more of those sailor-themed tunes along with other singers.
Lyricist Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composer Gento Uehara（上原げんと）created "Hibari no Madorosu-san" as a fairly gentle but cheerful song about Misora admiring her favourite sailor on the ship. Considering that the singer was born in the port city of Yokohama, the song was a good fit for her.
According to Nippon Columbia, the recording company responsible for the song, as of 1998, "Hibari no Madorosu-san" sold around 900,000 records. Misora's final appearance on the Kohaku was in 1979 in a special guest capacity, and she performed that very song as the first in a medley. As for the expression madorosu, it originated from the Dutch or Flemish word matroos.
Happy Monday to you all! I was talking with Noelle the other day on her fine article describing her favourite kayo from the 1950s, and one point we were discussing was how brave it was for singer-songwriter Isao Hayashi（林伊佐緒）to have created one of Japan's first examples of fusion music through his "Mamurogawa Boogie" (1954), a blend of jazz and minyo.
Well, in the same year in May, Hayashi wasn't through with his experimentation. He also concocted another mix but this time, it was minyo and Latin. This coalesced into "Okosa Rumba" with Ryo Yano（矢野亮）providing the lyrics. "Okosa Rumba" was based on the Okosa bushi（おこさ節...Okosa dance）, a minyo from Akita Prefecture according to this webpage. I'm not sure if the masses were scandalized by this mixture of genres back in the early 1950s but listening to it now, I'm quite comfortable with it as another example of kayo.
My way around minyo is very limited aside from the fact that I can recognize the genre, but from what I've seen on YouTube, it seems like songs such as "Okosa Bushi", though they swirl around a basic melody line, can have a number of variations depending on the lyricists, composers and arrangers. The comedy team The Drifters（ザ・ドリフターズ）also released their own "Okosa Bushi" as "Drifters no Okosa Bushi"（ドリフのおこさ節...The Drifters' Okosa Bushi）back in 1970. Rei Nakanishi（なかにし礼）wrote the lyrics (although no composer was given aside from the credits saying that it is a Japanese minyo) with member Cha Kato（加藤茶）singing in his happy and comical way. Of course, ever-angry leader Chosuke Ikariya（いかりや長介）went on another tirade near the end.
Yeah, I know, Hachi, songs from the 50's are great!
A few months ago I did an article about songs I love listening to from the 30 and 40's, and I've now decided to follow it up with individual articles about those from the 50's and, eventually, the 60's. I was pretty excited to plan these lists as I quite often find myself buried in the old but gold stuff from this later era, which then had me thinking that picking out my favourites would be a piece of cake. However, following my stipulated rule in the first write up: one song per singer, and the decision of not to bog both articles with the usual suspects that always come to mind (not to say that they're not in it), I have to admit that that had me putting a little more thought into my selections. But that aside, I still managed to pull a good number of songs together from each decade.
Moving on, I will first be talking about my favourite tunes from the 1950's, the time when, I suppose, technically, enka became a proper genre of its own with the first enka singer emerging from the early half of the decade. As with my previous article, I'll also be putting down the lyrics from each song that resonates with me the most, by that I mean those that I like hearing, and not necessarily because I understand what's being sung - could be both, though.
Disclaimer: If I don't mention any song you were hoping to see, sorry, perhaps I don't listen to it all that much or at all. But feel free to share what yours are. :)
With that being said, let's get started. The entries aren't arranged in any specific order.
Isao Hayashi -- Mamurogawa Boogie (1954)
Watasha Mamurogawa no ume no hana korya (わたしゃ真室川の 梅の花 コーリャ) Anata mata kono machi no ugui su yo (あなたまた この町のうぐいすよ)
Starting us off is the contrasting fusion of Japanese grassroots minyo and Western smooth jazz "Mamurogawa Boogie" (真室川ブギ), Isao Hayashi's (林伊佐緒) creative take on the "Mamurogawa Ondo" (真室川音頭), a minyo from the Yamagata prefecture. It may sound like a strange pairing, but Hayashi really knew what he was doing! To me, "Mamurogawa Boogie" is the best of both worlds as it's still as catchy as any normal minyo ditty, and yet the western instruments provide a fuller, more dramatic arrangement and a fun modern twist. Ah, it's already sticking to my brain.
Koichi Miura -- Ochiba Shigure (1953) Hokage mo sabishii keikotou no (灯ほかげもさみし 蛍光灯の) Kage ni shimijimi hitori naku (かげにしみじみ 独り泣く)
"Ochiba Shigure" (落葉しぐれ) is probably the most recent favourite here and I was quite surprised by how much I grew to like it, considering the fact that I initially thought it was kind of bland in the sense that it sounded like any other enka song. But after constant exposure to it via Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) version and eventually the original by Koichi Miura (三浦洸一), I developed a better appreciation for this song about a nagashi wandering the uramachi in autumn from the elegant strings and the latter's hearty baritone. Probably what helped in giving me a better view of "Ochiba Shigure" was the comfortable memory of walking down Asakusa-bashi on a clear, windy day many years ago with golden ginkgo dive-bombing me.
Kazuo Shirane -- Jinanbo Garasu (1955)
Dobu no sekai ni naze mi wo nageru (泥溝の世界に 何故身を投げる)
As I've mentioned before, I do love my matatabi enka, and Kazuo Shirane's (白根一男) hit "Jinanbo Garasu" (次男坊鴉) is one of the two that I had chosen to be in this list. More than anything, it was the upbeat and rhythmic score that got me hooked when I was introduced to it via Kiyoshi Hikawa's (氷川きよし) cover a couple of years back. The younger singer's rendition has more kick to it, as most of his songs do, but the original still sounds quite spunky.
Yoshiko Ohtsu -- Koko ni Sachi Ari (1956)
Kimi ni yori sori akaruku aogu (君に寄り添い 明るく仰ぐ) Koko ni sachi ari shiroigumo (ここに幸あり 白い雲)
Taking a little break from enka and going into some slightly jazzy kayo territory here with Yoshiko Ohtsu's (大津美子) signature "Koko ni Sachi Ari" (ここに幸あり). I find this a very comforting tune with that joyful premise of being together with your special one, and Ohtsu's wonderful vocals that I equate to that feeling when you're wrapped in a soft and warm blanket.
Haruo Minami -- Yuki no Wataridori (1957)
Ore mo koi na no Ginpei sa nuku ka nagadosu (俺も鯉名の 銀平さ抜くか長どす) Nukeba shiraha ni chi no fubuki (抜けば白刃に 血の吹雪)
With that talk of the usual suspects at the very top of the write-up, here is Haruo Minami (三波春夫) with the second ronin-inspired song, "Yuki no Wataridori" (雪の渡り鳥). Just like "Jinanbo Garasu", I enjoy the former for its cheerful sound, and, of course, there's Minami's chirpy vocals that makes for a more dynamic song. But what piqued my interest and that morbid streak in me was how the masterless samurai painted/would paint the snow red with the blood of his enemies - the bit I have put above this paragraph. It's cool - haha, get it? Because snow... Okay, sorry - and a little dark and it does contrast with the almost always smiley Minami, that is, until he puts on his crazy face with that murderous glint in his eyes.
Nonbe sumiyaki isogi ashi (のんべェ炭焼き 急ぎ足) Tsuki wo tayori ni kareha no youni (月をたよりに 枯れ葉のように) Kushami tsuzukete shite tooru (くしゃみ続けて して通る) Hore yura yura (ホレ ユーラユラ)
Rounding off the list of my favourite songs from the 1950's is Hachi's "Yama no Tsurihashi" (山の吊橋), which is kind of apt since it was released in the decade's final year. I guess it's of no surprise that this song's here, seeing as to how I've been talking about it, but there were quite a number of Kasuga's songs that I considered putting here, like "Uramachi Yakyoku" (裏町夜曲) and "Ore wa Nora Inu" (俺は野良犬), just to name a few. In the end, because I felt that in terms of which I'd end up still liking a lot in the long run, the happy-go-lucky ditty about a suspension bridge won out.
And that's the end of the article. I hope you've enjoyed it. Stayed tuned for my 60's list!
On the first Takeo Fujishima（藤島桓夫）article I wrote for the blog, I mentioned that the late enka singer performed a series of songs based on ports early in his career. Well, I've come across the first in that series titled appropriately enough "Hajimete Kita Minato" (First-Time Port), released in 1954.
Ports are an oft-used trope in enka and Mood Kayo. It's not that surprising either because the harbours are the launch points for adventures beyond and the destinations for wide-eyed newcomers. Plus, they can make for ideal spots to say goodbye to a loved one or simply a love relationship. Fujishima and songwriter Kazuo Toyoda（豊田一雄）started their series of port-based songs with this one to describe the protagonist's experiences at his first port that left a lifetime of impression despite a short stay of just 4 or 5 days. As they say, you always remember your first.
(Unfortunately the video has been taken down)
Y'know, I actually enjoy this live performance of "Hajimete Kita Minato" by Fujishima even more than the original recording although the latter expressed the cheerful hustle and bustle of a postwar port. I guess it's because Fujishima's voice gained some more timbre in the years since he first recorded the song so that there is a bit more grandeur involved.
But I gotta say that Ichiro Toba's（鳥羽一郎）cover of the 1954 original is simply great. He's got the fine gravelly voice and the arrangement is gentle and happily work-a-day. It's as if that same port from decades back lost the frenetic peak of bustle in the immediate postwar period only to gain a certain comfortable groove of activity as the years passed by. According to the notes on YouTube, Toba's version was on his 1989 release, "Kokoro ni Shimiru Omoide no Uta"（心に沁みる思い出の歌...Beloved Songs To Warm The Heart）. The title says it all.
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