The Kasuga Bushi with Isao Hayashi, Toshiyo Kamata, and Tadaharu Nakano (林伊佐緒、鎌多俊与と中野忠晴の春日節)

It's hard to believe that another year is coming to a close. Looking back on 2025, I did a lot, especially in the realm of ryukoka and kayokyoku, so much so that I’d mistaken some events for having taken place the year before. That said, I’m exhausted. I don’t know what’s in store for 2026, but I look forward to it.

Anyways, during some Decembers, I usually put up an Author's Picks article that summarises all or some of what I like. I ended up going with the latter. What theme did I go with? Well, for the main ingredient, we have my favourite Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎). That is to say that all the songs featured will be his. They are commonly called Kasuga Bushi (春日節… Kasuga Song). And then, we have 3 different spices to add to this main ingredient: Isao Hayashi (林伊佐緒), Toshiyo Kamata (鎌多俊与), and Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴). These 3 men worked as composers in postwar King Records and spawned a plethora of hits for the artists they wrote for, including Kasuga. Other King Records composers are most known for creating the Kasuga Bushi with its signature plaintive sound, and I may talk about them in an article similar to this another time. But here, I will only highlight a Kasuga Bushi made by the aforementioned 3. 

Why Hayashi, Kamata, and Nakano specifically? Because their faces make my heart melt. It's really as simple as that. Well, there is also the fact that I have been looking into their works on my own volition, so it’s easier for me to curate an article about them. I actually got this idea when coming up with a theme to my song selection at the bi-monthly Kasuga Enka Denshokai (春日艶歌伝承会) karaoke circle. Dubbed the "Handsome Boy Composer" theme, each of the 3 songs I picked were composed by these 3 guys. With the context out of the way, let's begin.

Catching Both Rabbits with Isao Hayashi: Rozario no Shima (ロザリオの島) (1964)

Getting the ball rolling is Hayashi sensei. Among the 3 composers here, he had made the most number of Kasuga Bushi (about 24, give or take, excluding unreleased and made-to-order external requests), and can be considered one of the fan favourite Kasuga Bushi producers. An old guard of King Records, he had been wearing both the singer and composer hats since the early 1930s, and would often be singing his own works. Apparently, he had been advised to focus on one path and not double dip, using the proverb "If you run after two hares, you will catch neither." The man himself even admitted that he might have been more successful if he stuck to just singing or music-making. But he felt that he was most happy doing both, even if it costed the (relatively) reduced fame, and so that's what he did until the end of his life. Considering his list of successes in both fields, though, I think it's safe to say that he managed to catch both rabbits.

The very first song Hayashi made for Hachi was Nigate Nanda yo (苦手なんだよ) (1957), and the last was Kunashiri no Hito (国後の女) (1982), making him one of the composers who worked with Hachi fairly consistently the longest. To me, the Hayashi Kasuga Bushi tend to sound rather exotic and raw. The atmosphere created by his melodies and arrangements makes it feel as though I'm in the location featured in the song, be it a grimy alley, a lonely harbour, or somewhere outside the major cities in Japan. However, another feature I've now been looking for is if the Hayashi Kasuga Bushi was a recycled Hayashi original. It was something noticed upon delving deeper into Hayashi's self-composed postwar releases, as some of them sounded remarkably similar to some of the songs he made for Hachi. Putting two and two together, it became fairly obvious that Hayashi likely reconfigured his own songs that never became hits and sent them back out into the field to be sung by artists popular at the time (50s & 60s), like Hachi, in hopes of scoring a hit.

Hayashi as a special guest at the unveiling of Rozario no Shima in 1964.
From Shinobu

Anyways, one of Hayashi-made Kasuga Bushi which I suspect could've been one of Hayashi's originals is Kasuga’s revival hit Rozario no Shima from August 1964. Rozario… with its dramatic yet somewhat foreboding atmosphere is easily one of my favourite pieces Hayashi made. It allows Hachi’ signature forlorn delivery to shine, all while also enabling him to showcase the extent of his vocal prowess. Its unique melody fits Hachi so well that I was inclined to say that nothing like this had been made prior, and then I stumbled upon Hayashi’s own Nangoku no Yo wa Fukete (南国の夜は更けて) from May 1956. The latter had a much lighter arrangement, but there was no mistaking that intro with the deep, rhythmic thrumming of the guitar (?) and the melody’s dark yet exotic tone. As far as I know, Nangoku… never became much of a hit, likely overshadowed by other incredible releases at the time. Perhaps Hayashi refused to let this interesting piece go to waste, and so he passed it on to someone who might be able to bring life into it. Hachi had already saw a resurgence in popularity with Hayashi’s Nagasaki no Hito (長崎の女) in 1963, so maybe Hayashi saw this opportunity for another of his works about southern Japan to finally shine. Shine it did.

Hayashi recycling Nangoku no Yo wa Fukete to make Rozario no Shima theory is pure speculation on my part, but it does give a new meaning to Hayashi being able to catch both the rabbits he was chasing after.

Toshiyo Kamata's Got That Fight in Him: Ruten Garasu (流転がらす) (1957)

Next up is Toshi-san. Based on what I know, he made the least Kasuga Bushi among our 3 (about 11 or so). Like Hayashi sensei, Toshi-san can also be considered one of King's old guard, having been one of the company's stars as the shadow of war loomed over Asia in the mid-30s and early 40s. Unlike Hayashi, Toshi-san solely stuck to composing music once the Pacific War ended.

The very first Kasuga Bushi Toshi-san made was Yuhi wa Moete (夕陽は燃えて)(1956), the last was Magokoro Sakaba (まごころ酒場) (1962). I believe he moved to Toshiba (records) from about 1963. I'm not sure how long he stayed at Toshiba, but he may have moved back to King in the 80s for a little bit, but I'm unclear on that. To be completely honest, I struggle to identify any distinguishing traits in the Kamata Kasuga Bushi, especially when compared to the other 2 composers. I’m by no means saying that they’re not good, though. They’re rather simple in melody and arrangement, but are nevertheless catchy and capable of striking a chord with listeners; a few of them even seem to be fan favourites and are staples in any Hachi compilation album. So, Toshi-san’s gems do find their way among the other well-loved Kasuga Bushi.

My personal favourite Toshi-san Kasuga Bushi is Ruten Garasu. It's an easy-to-listen-to matatabi mono about a down and out wanderer drifting through life. The gentle peaks and dips of the tune allows you to enjoy the smoothness and richness of early Hachi's maturing vocal quality. For some reason, I can't get Ruten Garasu out of my head, and I'd been listening to it so often this year that it became my most played song on Spotify for 2025. Apparently, in the span of 7 months, I listened to it almost 150 times. Fair play to you, Toshi-san.

Tadaharu Nakano's Butter Miso Soup: Ruten no Yoru (流転の夜) (1955)

Finally, we have Mr. Nakano to wrap up the article. I've talked about Nakano's postwar escapades and Nakano-made Kasuga Bushi extensively over the past couple of years, since I love this snazzy jazz man almost as much as I do one of the pioneers of enka. But here's a consolidated cliff notes version of what I'd talked about over several articles:

Unlike Hayashi and Kamata, Nakano, originally affiliated with Columbia Records, joined King Records in mid-1952 as a contract composer. He had left the music world in 1947, but returned after a business venture turned south. He made a mini attempt to re-debut as a singer under the moniker of Young Nakano (geez, why you gotta be so cringe, Nakano?), but that didn't really work out either; he didn't seem satisfied with his diminishing vocal abilities at the time as well, and so he stuck to making music behind the scenes, where he rediscovered success.

Nakano made about 20 official Kasuga Bushi singles, the first being Jirocho Tabi Shigure (次郎長旅しぐれ) (1953), and the last Kore ga Jinsei (これが人生)(1964). As with Nakano's other postwar compositions, the Nakano Kasuga Bushi's main attraction are the refreshing arrangements derived from snappy rhythms and a variety of instruments, often times making them sounding extremely western or (traditional) Japanese-sounding. Even for the more ordinary kayokyoku, the arrangements make sure you’re in for at least an interesting listening experience. This mostly attributed to his main collaborator, arranger Masao Ueno (上野正雄). That said, Nakano's Kasuga Bushi tend to be overshadowed by those from other composers, including the above 2, and were only middling hits at best. If I were to be completely honest, there is just something in Nakano's melodies that don't exactly match Kasuga, but I just don't know what it is. On the contrary, they fit Kasuga's junior and rival Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也) to a T. Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoy how Nakano’s works take Kasuga into territory I ordinarily wouldn’t expect from him.

A Nakano Kasuga Bushi I would love to feature is Sogen no Okami (草原の狼), a thrilling cowboy Western with nods to prewar Kōya Mono. Alas, this is such a deep cut that it’s not available online, and so I will have to hold off on it until its audio file magically appears on the internet. So, in the meantime, I shall feature a number where Ueno’s arrangement shines the brightest, and where Hachi sounds the most at home singing: Ruten no Yoru. I’ve already written an article about it, so you can read more about it there. I have cherished memories attached to it, and suffice to say, I love this song dearly. I think this is a good place to end off my last article for 2025.

Here's to a smooth-sailing year ahead. See y'all in 2026!

Koji Tsuruta -- Aka to Kuro no Blues（赤と黒のブルース）

 

It's been several years since I put up the previous article regarding the late singer-actor Koji Tsuruta（鶴田浩二）. For me, the most recognizable song by him will be his most famous hit, the 1970 "Kizu Darake no Jinsei"（傷だらけの人生）. 

Well, last night on NHK's "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新BS日本の歌）, one of the guests sang a moody kayo titled "Aka to Kuro no Blues" (The Red and Black Blues). Not surprisingly, it has been categorized as a Mood Kayo, probably one of the first of the genre, and it was indeed recorded by Tsuruta as a single in 1955. Tsuruta had already been making waves as a primo movie star who could sing; "Aka to Kuro no Blues" cemented that reputation as another hit.

Written by Tetsuo Miyagawa（宮川哲夫）and composed by Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）, it's also another ballad of woe as the protagonist of the piece is probably schlumping in some alley watering hole while bemoaning his lot in life with the hint that a lady in a red and black dress whirled him into a sucker's deal of romance. The horns are there of course, but I also picked up on a bit more jazz than usual in this Mood Kayo.

With "Aka to Kuro no Blues" becoming one of the first big Mood Kayo hits, it was inevitable that some of the other big singing stars would take a swing at the song. Frank Nagai（フランク永井）was one such person with another being the Tough Guy himself, Yujiro Ishihara（石原裕次郎）.

Utako Matsushima -- Kissaten no Katasumi de（喫茶店の片隅で）

 

I was in my fair share of coffee shops while I was living in Japan. Along with my regular jobs, I did have my side gigs of teaching students there. The kissaten that I frequented (although even in my past age, I don't know whether that term had already been rendered extinct) were pretty much the same classy places with masters of coffee-making manning the fort, although the one that was just around the corner from my second major school of employment in the Ichigaya area was known for its waitresses decked out in maid costumes...this was years before the Akihabara concept of maid café was formed.

Certainly, decades before I ever darkened many a wooden décor in the Tokyo area, there were coffee shops that offered gramophones playing classical music or jazz stuff (I think a few still do). And it's one such establishment playing the former genre that is the setting for "Kissaten no Katsumi de" (In a Corner of the Coffee Shop). An April 1955 single by the Yamaguchi Prefecture-born Utako Matsushima（松島詩子）, it's a kayo kyoku with a feeling as reassuring and calming as that wisp of steam emanating from a cup of java as a young couple gets together in a more intimate area of their favourite kissaten while Chopin is playing. Ryo Yano（矢野亮）was behind the lyrics while Tadaharu Nakano（中野忠晴）took care of the melody.

You can also have a listen to Matsushima's duet with Isao Hayashi（林伊佐緒）, "Ginza Yakyoku"（銀座夜曲）.

Isao Hayashi -- Kougen no Yado（高原の宿）

 

Recently, there have been YouTube channels such as Pokke ASMR featuring cute anime cats providing tender loving ASMR care to those other cute animals who have gone through the wringer at work. Who doesn't need a massage and/or head spa after a hard day? I have to say that the sound effects are rather scrumptious.

I heard this one on a recent episode of "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新BS日本の歌）. "Kougen no Yado" (Highland Inn) was an April 1955 single released by Isao Hayashi（林伊佐緒）with the singer taking care of the melody while Kikutaro Takahashi（高橋菊太郎）took care of the lyrics. It's a soothing kayo kyoku about heading up to that titular highland inn away from the city for some well-needed rest and recreation. The slow languid rhythm along with the bird-sounding flute help with the aural therapy. 

To be honest, I was initially surprised about the existence of such a hedonistic song in the midst of a very tough postwar period of economic regrowth. However, I figured that even back then, workers simply needed some sort of R&R although I don't know whether they could afford something like a highland inn. Perhaps just a car ride into the countryside and perhaps a stay at a rustic ryokan would do the trick.

Koichi Aoki -- Kojima Gayoi no Yuubinsen（小島通いの郵便船）

 

Back when I was spending the summer of 1972 at my grandparents' house in Wakayama Prefecture, I remember a delivery guy who brought over glass bottles of coffee milk. I'm not sure whether this was a daily tradition but that coffee milk sure was tasty. So tasty that I managed to drop one on the ground and break it open in my haste to get it. Nothing like sealing the deal on impressions to everyone in the neighbourhood by being butterfingers.

I was kinda reminded of that incident while listening to this old-timey kayo kyoku by Koichi Aoki（青木光一）. "Kojima Gayoi no Yuubinsen" (Mail Boat Through the Islands) was a March 1955 single written by Miyoshi Kamio（上尾美代志）and composed by Hideo Hirakawa（平川英夫）. A quaint melody and story which relates the feelings of sending letters and waiting for responses via the slower delivery system way back then, the arrangement and Aoki's tender vocals did give me the feelings of how much more precious the postal system was in the old days especially in remote communities on the smaller islands in comparison to the almost immediate replies of texting and email are now in the 21st century.

Izumi Yukimura -- Sweet and Gentle（スィート・アンド・ジェントル）

 

I gather that there was a time in the 1950s and 1960s when the various types of Latin dance music such as the mambo and cha-cha were greatly welcomed in the pop music of Japan and America. Singer Izumi Yukimura（雪村いづみ）back then was also one great purveyor of that brand of music and what a voice she had at the age of 18 in 1955.

A few years ago, I posted one song of hers that got onto the November 1955 Toho musical "Janken Musume"（ジャンケン娘...So Young, So Bright） which  starred the San-nin Musume（三人娘）of Yukimura, Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）and Chiemi Eri（江利チエミ）. "Yume no Mambo"（夢のマンボ）was given brassy life by Yukimura and was created by lyricist Seiichi Ida（井田誠一）and composed by Hachiro Matsui（松井八郎）.

One other song that got into the movie was "Sweet and Gentle", also by Ida and Matsui. The above video was given the title "Ton-chan Cha-Cha"（トンちゃんCHACHA）but the J-Wiki article on "Janken Musume" has titled it as "Sweet and Gentle" so I'm going to go with that. In any case, it's pretty nostalgic seeing Yukimura hoofing it up with fellow dancers on stage like that; I used to see those on television when I was a very young kid. It's just too bad that there is only one copy of the song on YouTube as of this writing.

A bit of a small video PS from me but for the longest time, I'd been wondering whether weathercaster Rinon Oshima（大島璃音） of "Weathernews Live" actually looked like someone famous. I wouldn't consider Rinon a doppelganger at all, but I think there is a slight resemblance between her and young Izumi...at least from the nose down.

Hachiro Kasuga's Early Kohaku Utagassen Songs（春日八郎）

 

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/tarento Yoko Ishino（石野よう子）. You can take a look below at the video at 4:46.

(1955) Wakare no Ippon Sugi (別れの一本杉) 2nd appearance on the 7th edition in 1956

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.

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)

2024 is Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) centenary. Since Hachi is my No.1, I've decided to attempt a Hachi Centenary Project where I'll produce articles on him to commemorate the occasion. I'm aiming for one a month, should my schedule permit, but we'll see how things go. I'm saving a long overdue update on my Top Favourite Hachiro Kasuga Song List for his birthday and death anniversary month of October, so in the meantime, I'll either do the usual song features or Author's Picks lists. If any other KKP contributor would like to add to this project, please feel free to do so. And if readers would like to see certain songs/lists related to Kasuga, feel free to make requests. Anyways, this brings me to today's very specific list: My favourite Hachiro Kasuga songs composed by Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴). 

Why this very specific list? It's simply because I've just been listening to Nakano and Nakano-made Hachi stuff a lot recently (as you can probably tell), so I figured that a list of some of my favourite stuff from the Hachi-Mr. Nakano combo would be a good start to this project. Also, I have monke brain: Me see favourite singer sing song made by other favourite singer, me happy. As I've been saying, this is essentially a "Buy 1 get 1 Free" deal.

Mr. Nakano from 1955; Hachi from around 1956 (?)

As I've mentioned before, from 1952 onwards, both Hachi and Mr. Nakano were under King Records. Technically speaking, Hachi had been under King since 1947, but more of a reserve singer in training of sorts and never got his official debut as a professional singer of the company until December 1952. Mr. Nakano signed on as a composer and singer some time in June (?) 1952, but dropped the latter role after his first single under this label didn't do so hot and simply stuck to melody-making. Mr. Nakano composed a fair number of songs for Hachi - around 26 songs over the span of 10 years between 1953 and 1963 or so, assuming I read and mathed Hiroyuki Kondo's (近藤博之) consolidated list on Nakano's postwar works right. 

A cursory look at Kondo's list seems to show that Nakano composed more stuff for minyo star Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也). My impression is that the Michi-Mr. Nakano combo produced more hits of a much larger scale compared to the Hachi-Mr. Nakano combo, which seemed to only produce middling hits at best. Conversely, it was Hachi's collaboration with Isao Hayashi (林伊佐緒), another singer-turned-(mostly) composer, that spawned well-known numbers. This being the case, this article will put the spotlight on some of Hachi’s lesser-known discography entries. Honestly, I wouldn’t even have known some of them existed if it weren’t for the fact Nakano’s name was pinned to it. Yay for my one-track mind! (?)

Even though I've yet to listen to every single Nakano-composed Kasuga song out there, I think it's fair to say that the former jazz singer created a wide variety of kayokayoku for the younger artiste. This ranged from stuff akin to traditional Japanese folk tunes to urban jazzy numbers. Suffice to say that I think Hachi handled them pretty well, owing to his flexible vocal delivery. But I have to admit that some of these Nakano Melody (this term feels so weird to say) don’t necessarily fit my image of Hachi and sound more like what I feel the composer himself would’ve sung and not the singer he provided for. And, objectively speaking, some of these just sound like any run-of-the-mill pop song from the 1950s-1960s. That said, there are some that stand out to me there with their unique and refreshing arrangements, giving them a sound unlike what I might ordinarily hear from that era. 

In a short article on Nakano from June 1955, the musician compared his music-making process at King to adding butter to miso soup ("Tsumari, miso shiru no naka e bata wo ireyoutte, wake nandesuyo."). I'm fairly certain he was alluding to putting his own Western music flair (the butter) into Japanese kayokyoku (the miso soup) by playing around with the musical accompaniments. I wonder if that explains those stand-out bits. Then again, it could just be because I'm being unconsciously/consciously bias. Either way, perhaps you might hear what I find interesting in the Hachi-Mr. Nakano songs I've listed here. Some of these songs had been re-recorded around 1970, but I have put the original versions because they're where you can hear what Nakano had intended the music to sound like.

Before going into the list proper, I'd like to mention "Tsuma Koi Touge" (妻恋峠). It's a matatabi mono with the "Komoro Magouta" (小諸馬子唄) minyo spliced into it from 1955. It's a pleasant tune that I listen to occasionally when I want to hear Hachi's folk song prowess, but I wouldn't say it's a strong favourite of mine. I must admit, though, that the echo effect when Hachi warbles the "Komoro Magouta" provides quite the immersive experience.Was it a Nakano idea? I don't know, but it's likely since Michi's "Tassha de na" (達者でナ), another Nakano Melody, utilizes this echo effect too. Either way, this effect here makes it feel as though we are on the road with our wandering traveler and his voice reverberates through the Nagano mountain range as he belts out the "Komoro Magouta". I believe "Tsuma Koi Touge" was the first hit spawned by the Hachi-Mr. Nakano combo and likely the first middling hit after Hachi's unbeatably popular "Otomi-san" (お富さん), so I wanted to give it some acknowledgement. 

Okay, time for the list.

Otoko no Butai (男の舞台) (1955)

I wrote about this tune ages ago in 2017, and I said that the music was "what first drew me to (it)." Finally, something 2024 Noelle can shake hands with 2017 Noelle on. "Otoko no Butai" seems to be a Kasuga fan favourite and, in fact, it's said that Hachi himself actually liked this quite a lot too. Apparently, in preparation for its release, our dear singer got himself a new outfit and even learned the dance moves. I mean, it's hard not to see why this was well-liked. "Otoko no Butai" is a dramatic kabuki-inspired tune which reflects the trials and tribulations of being a stage performer - thought to be a reason why Hachi liked it. The original recording is snappy and the traditional percussions and wind instruments go wild. Yet, despite its raucous sound, there is a refined elegance to it that showcases said performer's professional front as they step on to the stage. On a different note, the sound of "Otoko no Butai" reminds me of Taro Shoji's (東海林太郎) wartime entry "Ginza Owaricho" (銀座尾張町). I wonder if Mr. Nakano had been listening to that and took a hint. 

I wish I could see that dance Hachi picked up. He merely bobbed up and down or did a muted jig in the clips I see of him. So to see a full dance from him would be akin to striking the lottery for me. Yes, I know my priorities are skewed.

Funauta Tsukiyo (船唄月夜) (1956)

Totemo su . te . ki janaika? Kono uta. In one of Hachi's 15th anniversary albums, King Records lyricist and creative director Ryo Yano (矢野亮) made a curious remark: Hachi's sailor-themed songs (madorosu mono) strangely tend to only receive lukewarm reactions. I'm inclined to agree, since my favourites don’t really include any specifically sailor tunes. Wharf-themed tunes, for sure. But not really tunes that feature sailors sailing the high seas. And then came "Funauta Tsukiyo". This is a jolly tune marked by this bouncy . little . bit towards the end of each stanza, giving the song an element of fun and mischief. This rhythmic segment is both memorable and a reflection of the trope of a carefree lifestyle in sailor songs, I feel. Admittedly, Hachi sounded a bit stiff in the original recording, but his delivery became much spunkier in the re-recorded version many years later. I wish I could see footage of Hachi singing this too. I can imagine him doing his little bounce.

Tokyo no Ari (東京の蟻) (1959)

This feels like the type of composition close to what Nakano would've ordinarily liked to make if he’d no obligation to “make (kayokyoku) that’ll sell”: Something bluesy/jazzy and mostly Western-sounding. He made many of this sort under King, but "Tokyo no Ari" seems to be one of the rare moderate successes. Its chaotic style isn't something I usually hear from Hachi, but it's pretty refreshing. This is another piece Hachi seemed to have taken a liking to for its unique sound.

Ore wa Hitoripocchi (俺は一人ぽっち) (1960)

I could be wrong, but it seemed like Mr. Nakano began incorporating what I think sounds like an electric organ (?) into his works from around this time. Or, at least, with more frequency. I like the deep, rolling drums and rattling percussions, especially at the start, which gives "Ore wa Hitoripocchi" a very slight bossa nova feel amid the swelling strings and frenetic piano. But I'm personally not a fan of the wobbly twang of the electric organ (?) as it kind of cuts the dramatic flair the song gives. Speaking of dramatic flair, my goodness, Hachi's vocals here felt off the charts! In general, I like Hachi's delivery for its gentleness, but can he heartily belt out songs when he needs to. And he can do so without losing that delicate and sentimental nature. 

Hoshi yo Omae ga Koibito da (星よお前が恋人だ) (1960)

“Hoshi yo Omae ga Koibito da” is on a similar vein to "Tokyo no Ari", albeit less intense and of a more somber tone. I actually like melody of this one more than the more popular latter, and I think the wobbly whine of the electric organ (?) works better here when it does appear. It provides "Hoshi yo..." with a haunting atmosphere, but it does make it feel less raw than “Tokyo no Ari”. This tune showcases more of the lower range of Hachi's vocals. The lower range was what he struggled with most back when he was still in training, and even very early on in his career he did sound a bit awkward with his voice going that low. But as his voice matured as in "Hoshi yo...", I think it managed to convey the dark and more introspective nature of this tune pretty well.

Ruten no Yoru (流転の夜) (1955)

Among the Hachi-Mr. Nakano compositions I've heard thus far, I love "Ruten no Yoru" the most. I'll say it now, but it's definitely within my Top 10 Hachi tunes overall. Mr. Nakano's melody sounds so lonely, yet it's so fascinating to listen to. Hachi sounds so sad, yet conveys the song so beautifully. Tamaranai. 

Mr. Nakano from 1949; Hachi from the late 1950s/early 60s (?)

And with that, we've come to the end of the article. Of course, I think there are more entries by this combo that are either interesting or stuff that I enjoy, like "Tokyo Western" (this one isn't very Hachi, but it's so Nakano) and "Jirocho Tabi Shigure" (次郎長旅しぐれ) respectively. But what I've put here are a combination of both. My conclusion here is that butter in miso soup tastes good. And I'm saying it not because Mr. Nakano prepared it and Hachi served it... Okay, maybe I sort of am. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed some of Hachi's lesser-known works while also getting a little taste of what Mr. Nakano did during his postwar stint in music.

I wonder what I shall do next in the Hachi Centenary Project. Perhaps a Hachi-Michi one, or a Hachi-Hayashi one. Hayashi did also make many interesting pieces for Hachi, after all. There is also the tune by the Sannin no Kai (三人の会), the Hachi, Michi, and Muchi (Hideo Murata... 村田英雄) trio. I guess we'll see what speaks to me first.

P.S. The Ms. C who made my Mr. Nakano photo cards also educated me on the term "Bias Wrecker". This refers to another artiste you're head-over-heels for and competes with your Bias/oshi for the No.1 spot in your heart. A threatening 2nd place, if you will. In my case, this title bounces around five other fellows, and it's currently held by Nakano. I told Ms. C that, hypothetically speaking, among the other five, Mr. Nakano is the strongest competitor for 1st place. Upon reflection, he does score extremely high on my Voice-Works-Looks chart. But Hachi need not worry since he occupies a very special spot: Oshi no.1 and primary research subject. That has essentially made it impossible for any bias wrecker to topple him.

Hachiro Kasuga -- Ruten no Yoru (流転の夜)

I've mentioned some time back that I actually knew Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴) as a composer first. His name I often saw attached to tunes by Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎), Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也), and their other King Records colleagues, some of these songs becoming massive hits in the later-day enka world. But ever since I began digging into his early-day musical activities, having to reconcile the image of postwar hit-making songwriter Nakano with the prewar slick jazz singer Nakano took a bit of time. Listening some familiar favourites from Hachi and Michi and then realizing its that Mr. Nakano behind the music was mind-blowing. Among the these many pleasant revelations, the one that gave me the biggest reaction was Hachi's "Ruten no Yoru". To help you visualize what that was like, here is an emote: (*´艸`).  

The original take

"Ruten no Yoru" would probably fall within my current Top 10 Hachi songs. So knowing that one of these beloved tunes by an artist that sits squarely at the top of my list composed by a musician who became my latest fixation is nothing short of a happy time. Hence, the expressive reaction to such a mundane piece of information.

"Ruten no Yoru" was released early in Hachi's musical career on August 1955. While the music was done by Mr. Nakano, the lyrics were penned by Tetsuro Fujima (藤間哲郎). From Jisho.org, the term "Ruten" can mean constant change or vicissitudes, a sudden, usually unwelcomed change in circumstances. From my understanding of Fujima's words, our song protagonist faced such an unwelcomed change one night in the form of a heartbreak. This loss seemed to have hit him hard as he's already portrayed to be weary from the get go, and for the rest of the song he struggles to come to terms with the loss. The forlornness of Nakano's melody, derived from the lonesome drone of the flute and languid strings, complements our bummed out hero's state of mind. I also feel that it's a perfect fit for Hachi whose vocal delivery usually expresses sad longing. It's not hard to imagine the protagonist's deflated figure as he wanders aimlessly through a bar-filled alley, try to use alcohol and singing to quell his sadness. Yet, there is also a somewhat carefree and cheerful quality in Nakano's composition that suggests that our protagonist is trying to be positive. Perhaps it's a case of jolly, tough exterior to the depressed, soft interior. 

Oddly enough, this theme of constant change in circumstances and a happy-exterior-sad-interior reminded me of Hachi's own situation at the time. According to his autobiography "Futari no Sakamichi" (ふたりの坂道) (1980) a Hachi who shot to stardom via the popularity of "Otomi-san" (お富さん) was in a pickle. He was glad for the limelight, but the kabuki-themed ditty was a host to heavy criticism for allegedly ruining the minds of young kids and was too simple a tune for Hachi's liking. Hachi didn't want to be remembered for such a song which he felt didn't showcase his musical capabilities. But with its explosive success, how was any other of his works going to surpass that? Was the musical career he fought so hard to achieve going to just fizzle out like a firework? And so, while rattling off the very jolly "Otomi-san" at recitals, he was mostly fretting over his future. Throughout the rest of 1954 and the most of 1955, he hoped each recording session would produce a hit that rivaled the 1954 success. 22 songs were recorded in 1955, "Ruten no Yoru" being one of them, but they just couldn't do it. So I can imagine that Hachi's state of mind may have been similar to our featured tune's protagonist at the time of its recording. Lucky for him, a change in his fortunes came at his 23rd in November of that year with "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" (別れの一本杉). Now, he's remembered as "The Preeminent Enka Singer."

The re-recorded version

In 1972, "Ruten no Yoru" was re-recorded along with Hachi's other major works and appeared in "Kasuga Hachiro Deluxe 3 Shuu" (春日八郎デラックス３集). I'd been listening to this version for the most part until recently when I wanted to hear Mr. Nakano's original melody. Now, I actually prefer the 1955 original. Hachi's vocal quality, while dropping an octave (?), never lost the tune's sadness and the modern take has a richer arrangement. But the variety of sounds from various instruments, coupled with a more interesting, halting arrangement made for a better aural experience for me. Listening to it in the quiet of night makes it particularly atmospheric and listening to it when I'm worn out makes it more resonant.

Finally, to wrap up this article's theme of changing circumstances, let's on touch on Mr. Nakano's transition from vocalist at Columbia Records to full-time composer at King Records after the war. This move seemed to have due to a couple of factors which I gathered from a blog by one named haguruhaguru, who cited a thesis on Nakano by Hiroyuki Kondo (近藤博之) from 2004. One reason was that Mr. Nakano had riled the powers that be in Columbia with his attitude during his heyday, which may have made the company resistant to sign him back on after the war. If I may add to that with what I'd garnered from Gyoji Osada's (長田暁二) "Showa Kayo" (昭和歌謡) (2017): At this very time, many other renowned singers from the prewar era also found themselves untethered as their record companies were literally in shambles from the Tokyo bombings. I remember reading that saucy songstress Noriko Awaya (淡谷のり子) got unceremoniously let go by Columbia via missive with a 100 yen bill attached. Ouch. So, perhaps, this may have compounded with Nakano's rather selfish behaviour, leading to Columbia's decision despite Nakano's decade-or-so-long tenure in the company. 

The other reason cited for Mr. Nakano's move was feeling that his vocal quality had deteriorated. So, rather than roaming the G.I. bases doing jazz gigs like many other jazz musicians and earning far less, he ventured into the beverage business with a friend from his hometown of Ehime in hopes of earning far more. Unfortunately or fortunately, that didn't come to pass so he returned to music to pay off debt incurred from the business venture. Instead of Columbia (due to earlier mentioned possible strained relations), he signed on with King Records in via a recommendation by an acquaintance and the rest was history. Oddly enough, Mr. Nakano signed on to King Records in 1952, which was when Hachi debuted. Coincidence? I think yes. But quite a nice one for a fan of both :). What a fascinating turn of events.

Chiyoko Shimakura -- Kono Yo no Hana（この世の花）

 

"Uta Con"（うたコン）devoted some minutes of its broadcast last night to the late singer Chiyoko Shimakura（島倉千代子）who had passed away ten years ago today at the age of 75. There were some very familiar kayo kyoku sung including her 1980s hit "Jinsei Iroiro"（人生いろいろ）which I posted on the day that she left this mortal coil.

However, one Shimakura song that I hadn't included here on "Kayo Kyoku Plus" was her debut single, "Kono Yo no Hana" (A Flower of This World). Released in March 1955, it was used as the theme song for the cinematic adaptation of a Makoto Hojo（北條誠） novel of the same name, and as written by Yaso Saijo（西條八十）and composed by Tadashi Manjome（万城目正）, "Kono Yo no Hana" is a wistful and wiser if sadder observation on the sweet fragility of a first love as it fritters away like a blossom. Though I've categorized it as an enka tune, enka tunes officially didn't exist until the early 1970s with a lot of sudden retrofitting of songs into that particular genre. But back then, the song had been considered to be a kayo kyoku so I've also put in the pop Label as well.

For Shimakura, who was a month shy of her 17th birthday, her dreams came true on an overwhelming level since "Kono Yo no Hana" became a huge hit, selling two million records within six months of it being put on the shelves. It has remained her biggest hit although Shimakura wouldn't actually sing the song on the Kohaku Utagassen for the first time until her 26th appearance on the NHK New Year's Eve special in 1982. 

Mariko Miyagi -- Gaado Shita no Kutsumigaki（ガード下の靴みがき）

 

In the last several years, a YouTube genre known as ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response) videos has popped up in all sorts of settings such as massage, haircuts and even shoe shines. In oldspeak, I guess you can say it's all about getting that tingle up the spine and relaxing through the sights and sounds of getting that rubdown or other sort of tonsorial treatment. For me, I really did enjoy getting the full service at a Japanese barber when I was living in Ichikawa. I never had that shoe shine though since frankly most of my life has been spent in either sneakers or loafers. By the way, the above video is from Japan ASMR.

This kayo kyoku here is "Gaado Shita no Kutsumigaki" (The Shoeshine Boy Under the Overpass), a 1955 song by singer/actress Mariko Miyagi（宮城まり子）which probably tugged at quite a few heartstrings. Written by Tetsuo Miyagawa（宮川哲夫）and composed by Ichiro Tone（利根一郎）, the kayo involves a young lad all alone in the city with a dead father and a very ill mother just trying to survive as a shoeshine boy. The music possesses that wistful and plaintive feeling of innocence and industriousness as he tries to persuade customers for some work.

Miyagi was one of the early veterans on NHK's Kohaku Utagassen, appearing no less than eight times between 1954 and 1962. "Gaado Shita no Kutsumigaki" was the second song that she performed on the New Year's Eve special in that same year of 1955, and considering her later work helping children, maybe this song had a very deep effect on her.

Gosanke: Ganso Sannin Musume（元祖三人娘）

 

We're into the third entry for the Gosanke（御三家）series, and with the first two, we've had the Ganso Gosanke（元祖御三家...the Original Big 3）from the 1960s and last week's Shin Gosanke（新御三家）of the 1970s. Those trios were all male, but I did forget that there were female trios as well with one even predating that original Gosanke of Yukio Hashi（橋幸夫）, Kazuo Funaki（舟木一夫）& Teruhiko Saigo（西郷輝彦）.

Mind you, the term Gosanke wasn't used for these three ladies. The term that was used for the grouping of Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）, Chiemi Eri（江利チエミ）and Izumi Yukimura（雪村いづみ）was the Sannin Musume（三人娘...The Three Girls or The Three Bachelorettes）, and it started for them as of 1955. In fact, there is a kayo that I wrote about back in October 2016, "Suteki na Rendezvous" （素適なランデブー）, a theme song sung by them for a movie, "Janken Musume"（ジャンケン娘）, which proved to be the cinematic debut for the trio. Unfortunately, the J-Wiki article for "Sannin Musume" doesn't definitively illustrate how the powers-that-be brought together these particular three although it does mention that all three were born in 1937.

Along with the hit "Janken Musume", Misora, Eri and Yukimura also appeared in subsequent movies together and also showed up partially and totally on several editions of NHK's Kohaku Utagassen such as in 1954, 1957 and 1965. I'm pretty sure that the Sannin Musume also showed up in various television programs, too. As was the case with the original Gosanke, the Sannin Musume witnessed other female trios making their debuts in the decades to come, so although the three have still been called that original name, they've also gotten the moniker Ganso Sannin Musume (the Original Three Girls) or Shodai Sannin Musume（初代三人娘...the First-Generation Three Girls）.

Hibari Misora -- Yawara (柔）

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

Izumi Yukimura -- Omoide no Waltz （想い出のワルツ）

Hachiro Kasuga -- Wakare no Ippon Sugi (別れの一本杉)

 

Hello, I hope everyone's doing fine and keeping well in a time like this. I'm just about done with my autumn semester in university and I've washed my hands off those (somewhat) pesky research papers I'd been saddled with which is why I finally have the time to write for leisure.

On the note of research papers, while most of these assignments I've written thus far have been based in politics and doom and gloom, I had the opportunity to do something a little more... me this time around for my "Japanese Pop Culture" class. The prof had said that the paper could be on anything that related to Japan's Pop culture scene, so, would you like to take a gander at what I wrote about? :)

With much help from Christine Yano's "Tears of Longing" (2002), a documentary on two of my all time favourite enka veterans, and a bunch of abstract concepts I still have trouble comprehending, I managed to put together a piece on how enka relates to the Japanese collective memory. It's by no means a work of art and it'll most likely be read only by my professor, but I felt happy to have written about a genre that hasn't been explored extensively in academia (in the English language, at least). Since I had the freedom to more or less include what I wanted, I resolved to give a shoutout to the First Enka Singer, who often gets overshadowed by the Queen of Kayokyoku, Hibari Misora (美空ひばり). Understandably so, but Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) should get some recognition as well (because some of y'all might remember how much I love him). Of course, I did so with a legitimate reason as well. That being his magnum opus, "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" from 1955. I'd actually talked a little about "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" ages ago when I first became intrigued by such  melancholic bokyo or homesick enka (you can check it out here). However, it took me until now to not only fully appreciate it, but also understand why it sits in the hallowed halls of enka fame decades after its release. 

From the documentary with Hachi and fellow King Records star Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也), "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" came out during the time when Japan's economy was getting back on track. That meant many left the rural areas for urban work; while deep in the city many would pine for their loved ones and the comfort and tranquility their countryside hometowns have, or, at least, so is their imagined, perfect version of it. And so, what composer Toru Funamura (船村徹) and lyricist Kimio Takano (高野公男) did was, in a sense, condense such feelings into the song, and have it even serve as a reminder to never forget one's roots no matter where one ended up. This struck a chord with many in such a plight and its popularity spawned many others with a similar vein. So, "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" not only reaffirmed Hachi's and Funamura's place in Japanese music history, but also could've brought its first listeners back to the time when they resonated with it most the moment the lonely introductory guitar chords hit their ears decades later. (Ack, I should've added this last bit into my paper....)

Here's Funamura lending his vocals to his composition. His voice is nowhere near as perfect as Hachi's, but it's because of that which gives it that extra dose of countryfolk rusticity and thus was probably able to relate to more folks.

I find it amusing that I've been getting opportunities to do projects on enka. Just last year, I was able to do a Japanese presentation on it at the prompting of my teacher, and now this paper and I hope these opportunities continue to come. You know, I actually never knew what I meant when I said I wanted to "teach" people about enka a number of years ago. But, I guess I do now. It's rather cathartic.

I believe I got this still from the "Hyotan Boogie" karaoke MV

Izumi Yukimura -- Jingle Bells Mambo（ジングル・ベル・マンボ）

 

Hard to believe but we've reached December 2020 and I think that there are probably not a small number of people who can't wait for this year to be tossed out...including myself. However, having said that, let's see if we can at least start this final month with some Christmas cheer.

It certainly seems that the 2020 Xmas season on "Kayo Kyoku Plus" may end up as one of the busiest right up to the first year that I began including J-Xmas tunes onto the blog since I've been bookmarking some of the Japanese Yuletide stuff for several months and then corresponding with Scott who is quite the enthusiast for the rarefied genre of J-Xmas songs. Yesterday, I was able to get a sampler of some of those special songs from him which range from the 1950s all the way to the early 2000s.

Right off the bat, I was able to hear this one which is the topic of this article, Izumi Yukimura's（雪村いづみ）"Jingle Bells Mambo" from 1955. As probably I've mentioned this before, I first got to know the vivacious Yukimura through her appearances on television music shows and by that point, she was already well into middle age (currently she's 83) but back in the 1950s, she definitely left the impression of her being very much of the young spark plug.

And as she recorded the spicy "Yume no Mambo"（夢のマンボ）earlier in that same year of 1955, she came up with a feisty bilingual mambo version of "Jingle Bells" that practically screams for dirty martinis and candy canes to be served in a lounge. Yukimura really sank her teeth into the vocals like me into turkey. Seiichi Iida（井田誠一）, who had written the lyrics for "Yume no Mambo", provided the translated words for "Jingle Bells" that have probably become the standard Japanese delivery of the James Pierpont song including that version by Bob McGrath that I wrote about a couple of days ago. As for this cover, I couldn't find it on her J-Wiki discography and from the thumbnail for the video above, it looks like it probably wasn't an official single by her since it was placed on one side of that 45" record while Frank Nagai（フランク永井）had his cover of "Good Night Sweetheart" on the other side.

Considering that I've given two different Japanese-language takes on "Jingle Bells" in short order, I think that I will retire the song for the rest of the season and see if there are any versions of some of the other Xmas classics out there.

Chiyoko Shimakura -- Rindou Touge（りんどう峠）

Last night was the return of NHK's "Uta Con"（うたコン）after its summer hiatus, and it was once again the mix of the old and the new. At the beginning, I got to hear enka singers Yukino Ichikawa（市川由紀乃）and Konomi Mori（杜このみ）sing a Chiyoko Shimakura（島倉千代子）kayo that I hadn't heard before.

"Rindou Touge" (Woodland Path Ridge) was Shimakura's 2nd single from September 1955 and this was recorded when the Tokyo-born singer was only 17 years old. Along with Hibari Misora's（美空ひばり）"Ringo Oiwake"（リンゴ追分）which had been released a few years earlier, I realized that the kayo of the time wasn't all about heading to Tokyo or crying over one's sake. There were sentimental ballads that related the quiet life back in the countryside.

Written by Yaso Saijo（西條八十）and composed by Masao Koga（古賀政男）, "Rindou Touge" may talk about the contented environment but there are also words about the beloved elder sister who has since gone off to another town over that ridge with her new husband, so perhaps that is a wistful statement on how life evolves over time. However, the gentle tempo of the song reminds listeners that that life isn't in that much of a hurry.

Shimakura's 2nd single was another huge hit since it sold well over a million copies, but that apparently still paled somewhat against her debut single "Kono Yo no Hana"（この世の花...The Flowers of This World） from a few months earlier which sold around 2 million records. A very impressive one-two punch! Shimakura only sang "Rindou Touge" just once on the Kohaku Utagassen and that was in 1978 during her 22nd appearance on the New Year's Eve special.

Izumi Yukimura -- Yume no Mambo（夢のマンボ）

Tonight's "Uta Kon"（うたコン）was more of an improvement over last week's episode which didn't quite mesh for me. However, I did feel that time was indeed flying by when I saw Toshi of X Japan perform a duet with a member of STU48 via Seiko Matsuda's（松田聖子）famous "Akai Sweet Pea"（赤いスイートピー）. Yup, things must be mellowing out.

Also, I got to see enka singer Yukino Ichikawa（市川由紀乃）, I believe, perform Izumi Yukimura's（雪村いづみ）debut song "Omoide no Waltz"（想い出のワルツ）. Now, checking the archives, I found out that I'd already written about that tune but still wanting to see what else was out there for Yukimura, I came across that movie of fun in the sun, "Janken Musume"（ジャンケン娘...So Young, So Bright）from 1955, which starred the San-nin Musume（三人娘）of Yukimura, Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）and Chiemi Eri（江利チエミ）. I've never seen the film myself but scrolling through the J-Wiki article, I realized that "Janken Musume" was also an opportunity for each of the singers to show off their vocal talents, so I guess that it was also a musical as well.

I'd been looking for a Yukimura song that wasn't actually a cover of an American pop tune from the same time period, and I was fortunate enough to find one in this movie called "Yume no Mambo" (Dream Mambo). Written by Seiichi Ida（井田誠一）and composed by Hachiro Matsui（松井八郎）, it's an appropriately spicy number with the singer flying through the lyrics like a really swift skylark. I would love to see if a video might pop up someday showing Yukimura actually performing this on stage somewhere.

Haruo Oka -- Aitakattaze（逢いたかったぜ）

I was watching a recent episode of "Uta Kon"（うたコン）and a poignant enka was performed about a couple of old buddies meeting for the first time in a few years and having a long-awaited drink at a watering hole. Try to imagine back in the early postwar period when Japan was trying to get back onto its feet again with people just trying to regain some of that order from the chaos. I could envision that some friendships may have been detached for several years only for them to be rejoined, perhaps even stronger than ever.

Perhaps that was the point with "Aitakattaze" (Really Wanted To See You) as sung by Haruo Oka（岡晴夫）. According to J-Wiki, this was most likely the final single that was released by the crooner back in July 1955 because illness crept back into his life again (he would pass away in May 1970 at the age of 54). The commentary in that article indicated that this song proved to be another hit for him.

According to the video here, the footage shown of Oka performing "Aitakattaze" was actually from 1970 so the uploader mentions that this may have been the final time of him appearing in front of a camera. Considering the melancholy music by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）and the tenderhearted lyrics by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）, Oka's performance above takes on an even more enhanced poignancy.

Frank Nagai/Mari Nakamoto -- Koibito yo, Ware ni Kaere （恋人よ我に帰れ）

Through the usual browsings of YouTube, I encountered some Frank Nagai（フランク永井）tunes so I wondered what his debut single was.

At first thought, I had assumed that it would be some sort of crooning Mood Kayo since he was the master of the genre. However, his first song recorded was actually an English/Japanese cover of the Oscar Hammerstein II/Sigmund Romberg standard "Lover, Come Back to Me", first published in 1928 and covered in Japan as "Koibito yo, Ware ni Kaere". Nagai's version was released in October 1955 and includes Japanese lyrics by Seiichi Iida（井田誠一）.

What got it noticed by me was Nagai's voice. I was already accustomed to his velvety vocals in some of those Mood Kayo classics such as "Yurakucho de Aimashou" (有楽町で逢いましょう）and "Tokyo Nightclub"（東京ナイトクラブ）, but hearing him sing in English and with an arrangement that made his "Koibito yo, Ware ni Kaere" sound like some of the sweet music from at least a couple of decades prior, I gained further appreciation of his talent. Whoever was taking care of him and the recording must have rubbed their hands in glee.

This article is not only a feature on the debut of Frank Nagai but also a follow-up. Actually, I did write something about "Koibito yo, Ware ni Kaere" back last October as it was covered by a number of Japanese singers. That article included jazz singer Mari Nakamoto（中本マリ）as she went for an unusual computer music collaboration with technopop gods Yellow Magic Orchestra.

However over here, I am now featuring the native of Sendai in her own element of swing jazz doing a lively version of "Lover, Come Back to Me". I'm pretty sure that Nakamoto has performed the song countless times over her career and provided recordings in her many albums but I did find one such recording in her "Montreux The Best '78" from 1978.

Gotta leave off here with Patti Page's take.

Koichi Miura/Hibari Misora/Kiyoshi Hikawa -- Benten Kozo (弁天小僧)

Shirazaa itte kikaseyashou...
...
Benten Kozo taa ORE NO KOTO DA!

These lines right here are apparently from one of the most iconic scenes from Kawatake Mokuami's (河竹黙阿弥) famous play called "Aoto Zoshi Hana no Nishiki-e" (青砥稿花紅彩画), also known simply as "Benten Kozo". This proud declaration was announced by Benten Kozo Kikunosuke (弁天小僧 菊之助), one of a group of five (as I quote from the Wiki) gizoku/honorable thieves, when his plot to rob a kimono store in drag was revealed - well, now, that's one way to go about doing that, alright. 

I'm not all that well-versed in kabuki theater, so as usual enka served as my introduction to the aforementioned play via the song with the same name. I had seen that the original singer of "Benten Kozo" was Koichi Miura (三浦洸一), though I only got fully acquainted with it through Kiyoshi Hikawa's "Shin Enka Meikyoku Collection 2" (新・演歌名曲コレクション2 −愛しのテキーロ／男花−) as a cover. With such a romping score, courtesy of renowned songwriter Tadashi Yoshida (吉田正), and Hikawa's expressive delivery, this catchy tune from 1955 quickly grew on me and eventually piqued my interest on Kikunosuke enough to read up about his story on the J-Wiki. 

Miura's version

From there, I learnt that Takao Saeki's (佐伯孝夫) lyrics are actually based on the aforementioned lines (plus everything in between) and some of the young thief's other exploits from the original play itself. It definitely brings to mind Hachiro Kasuga's own kabuki-themed hit "Otomi-san" (お富さん), and it seems like Miura's "Benten Kozo" was created when Victor Records saw how warmly the former (from King Records) was received about a year before. Not surprisingly, it became one of Miura's biggest successes.

As with other popular plays, besides being adapted into mainstream music, "Benten Kozo" the play had its fair share of movie renditions, one of which titled "Hibari Juu-hachi Ban Benten Kozo" (ひばり十八番 弁天小僧) from 1960 starred Hibari Misora (美空ひばり) as the thief himself. That initially took me by surprise, but on second thought, with Misora's ability to bring out a gruff and masculine persona, her role there did not seem as strange anymore. Hmm, I wonder how she found having to act as a man trying to act as a woman during the kimono shop scene. But anyway, you can check out excerpts of the this movie from the video above with Miura singing away, and listen to Misora's own take of the song in the video immediately above this paragraph.

Comparing all three renditions of "Benten Kozo" the song, I have to admit that I prefer the covers to the original for I find that in the latter, both Hikawa and Misora make it sound as if they were the character themselves, whereas Miura sounds like he's just narrating the story. With that being said, I think Hikawa could play a convincing Kikunosuke.

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