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.
I only heard about jazz saxophonist Sonny Rollins' (1930-2026) passing early this morning when the scroll on the local news channel reported it. His classic 1956 "St. Thomas" is a song that I heard a number of times when I was a child but never knew the title or who it was played by.
But then when I started getting into jazz during my time in Japan, I was picking up various compilations of the genre at the music stores such as Tower Records. When I put one CD into the stereo, I finally got my identification on "St. Thomas". 😁Not only do I think it's one of those pieces that can celebrate the summer months, Rollins' magnum opus can also bring light and warmth into any season (especially love the opening percussion), and as such, it has been one song that I like to put on heavy rotation when it's time for some jazz in the home. My condolences to Rollins' family, friends and many fans around the world.
Today (22nd October) is Hachiro Kasuga's 34th death anniversary, and just a couple of weeks ago, on 9th October, was his 101st birthday. Since I had nothing planned for this Hachi-filled month, I shall commemorate it with a Kasuga Bushi that I've been resonating with as of late: Kaze ga Yobu kara (Called by the Wind).
This one was a slow burn for me. I encountered Kaze ga Yobu kara some time last year and thought it was a pleasant enough listen, especially with the distinctive shifts between the major and minor scales in each of its 3 stanzas. I've also always thought that the phrase "I'll go where the wind takes me" was really cool. It's probably because a lone wolf character I admired from a super sentai series I watched as a kid. This song's title, as it is, already sounds like said phrase. Yet, the song as a whole never really stuck around in my head. That was until I began to sing it at the Kasuga Enka Denshokai karaoke gatherings, which had me paying greater attention to it, and eventually gaining a greater appreciation for it.
Let's take a closer look at Kaze ga Yobu kara. It was released as the B-side to Ore to Kageboshi (俺と影法師) in November 1956. Its lyrics, penned by Takashi Umemoto (梅本たかし), has Hachi singing from the perspective of a wanderer who, seemingly on a whim, found himself in parts unknown in vague pursuit of something - a dream, someone to love, kindred spirits... A carefree vagabond-like figure with just an acoustic guitar on his back (he's likely a drifting nagashi), he seems to have hope in fulfilling these abstract goals, as the swelling strings and accordion played in the major scale Susumu/Shin Yamaguchi's (山口進) composition suggest. Yet, the dramatic dips in mood, caused by the abrupt, albeit temporary, shifts to the minor scale seem to show that our protagonist has his moments of sadness and loneliness. It ain't all sunshine and rainbows. Hachi, with his emotive high tone, effortlessly conveys both of the protagonist's contrasting states of mind.
As one of the Denshokai members aptly put, it can be seen as a song about hope (kibo no uta). Kaze... was released during a time when young hopefuls from all over Japan flooded the major cities for work, play, perhaps, to achieve big aspirations. So, it's possible that some of said demographic might've found some resonance in the tune should they have come across it. Perhaps Hachi may have related to it on some level too, considering he himself was one such figure who came to Tokyo for school and work, and eventually to pursue his dream in spite of the hardships.
Despite coming into contact with Kaze ga Yobu kara almost 70 years after it hit the shelves, I feel like I see a part of myself in it. Often times, I wonder how I got here. More than being called by the wind, it feels as though I'm a tumbleweed being tossed around by said wind, sometimes going forward, sometimes going backward, sometimes getting caught in trees and rocks. But amidst the trial and tribulations, I guess I never really lost that desire and hope to pursue what I thought were abstract dreams and to encounter kindred spirits. For now, I'm glad that I managed to find some of what I came in search of. Naa, Hacchan?
Watching some of the especially older guys on "Uta Con"（うたコン）today had me somehow remembering the late actor, musician and comedian Frankie Sakai（フランキー堺）. And he is not to be mistaken for Mood Kayo master Frank Nagai（フランク永井）who has also left this mortal coil. For those outside of Japan, perhaps the only example of film or television that he was known for was through his scenes as the ultimately treacherous Lord Yabu from the very first televised version of "Shogun" in 1980.
Much earlier in life, he also had his fame as a jazz drummer. However, I first got to know him when my parents took my brother and me to one of his comedy movies at the original Toronto Japanese-Canadian Cultural Centre. His humour was on the somewhat bawdy side as I saw him use a few everyday objects to molest his wife in the movie. Sakai was in a ton of movies, television dramas and commercials.
His J-Wiki profile doesn't mention him being a singer although even he has a short Kohaku Utagassen list when he appeared on the NHK New Year's Eve special for four straight years from 1958 to 1961. But none of the songs he sang there belong to this article since I found one that isn't found in the profile. In October 1956, he recorded a light and lovely kayo kyoku titled "Ikina Unmei no Kamisama" (The Courageous God of Fate) in which he took on the voices of a man, a woman and the titular god overlooking the two lovebirds. The song was written and composed by Touroku Takagi（高木東六）. Sakai is quite smooth in his transitions and I'm surprised that he didn't consider going a little further with his singing which is actually quite good.
Sakai passed away in 1996 at the age of 67 due to liver failure.
Happy Monday! As I've told viewers in a number of other articles over the past dozen years, the nearest station to my home in Ichikawa City, Chiba Prefecture was Minami-Gyotoku Station（南行徳駅）on the Tozai Line. Although Toronto has been my home once again for well over a decade now since returning from Japan, I've always retained a soft spot for my old neighbourhood. Whenever I returned from Toronto after the biannual Christmas vacation there, there would be Nangyo (the abbreviated nickname for Minami-Gyotoku) as the sun was setting; my flights back to Narita Airport always ended up arriving in the afternoon. It was my station, my neighbourhood, my home. I could buy a bento at the konbini and crash on my sofa in my 2K.
Still, I think my feelings on returning to my apartment in Ichikawa probably pale to those of Tokyoites heading back to their hometowns after several years of working hard in the megalopolis to help get Japan back onto its feet. Koichi Aoki's（青木光一）"Furusato no Eki"(Hometown Station) from 1956 is a classic bokyo kayo（望郷歌謡...song of longing for home） with those old-fashioned strings and the down-home rhythms paired with the singer's nasal vocals. Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由紀）and composed by Hideo Hirakawa（平川英夫）, "Furusato no Eki" seems to be the ideal song to welcome back the mature son and daughter at the station with warm hugs and promises of food, drink and warmth.
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.
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.
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.
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.
It's been a few years since I've put up a Michiya Mihashi（三橋美智也）kayo so I thought it was time to bring back some of his enka.
"Haha Koi Fubuki"(Mother's Love in a Blizzard) is a 1956 single that Mihashi released under the aegis of lyricist Ryo Yano（矢野亮）and composer Isao Hayashi（林伊佐緒）. It's an enka that probably had tear ducts flowing as the story tells of a man very much at the end of his rope one wintry night with his hands wrapped tightly around the bottle and wondering whatever happened to his parents (and presumably his entire life) who hadn't been with him long before leaving him alone. The record was a huge hit for Mihashi as it sold two million records.
There were covers made of Mihashi's trademark song including one by current enka singer Kouhei Fukuda（福田こうへい）. His version was released in 2016 as a track on his "Akogare ~ Mihashi Michiya wo Utau"（憧 〜三橋美智也を唄う〜...Yearnings ~ The Songs of Michiya Mihashi）. Kiyoshi Hikawa（氷川きよし）also provided his own cover in 2013 through the album "Hikawa Kiyoshi ~ Enka Meikyoku Collection 18: Shigure no Minato"（氷川きよし・演歌名曲コレクション18〜しぐれの港〜...Kiyoshi Hikawa: Enka Masterpiece Collection 18 ~ Late Autumn Harbour）.
I was sorry to hear that singer-activist Harry Belafonte had passed away earlier today at the age of 96. His name and face were familiar to me when I was a child since I remember him appearing on a number of variety shows on American television. For that matter, he also used to show up on a number of those K-Tel record compilations.
The legendary Belafonte has had a long discography but of course, I will always know him for "Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)". I didn't know the song's origins as a Jamaican folk song which possibly go all the way back to the beginnings of the 20th century with it being covered by various artists over the years. However, it will always be the Belafonte cover that I know best when it was released in 1956 (it premiered several years before my time so it's not a ROY article).
"Day-O" had already reached immortal status by the late 1980s but it incurred further pop culture legend status when it was used in "Beetlejuice" in 1988. The Halloween-themed classic was filled with hilarious scenes so it says something when much of the cast was induced to sing and dance to Belafonte's trademark song to become the standout scene of the movie. Catherine O'Hara can make everyone laugh (and has shown to be an adept dancer as well on "SCTV") but I was stunned to see famed television interviewer Dick Cavett in on the joke, too.
All the way back in the 1950s and 1960s, it was common for Japanese singers to cover the hits from the West, and so was the case with "Day-O". Known as "Banana Boat" in Japan, it was released in March 1957 as sung by 19-year-old Michiko Hamamura（浜村美智子）from Kagoshima Prefecture as her debut single. The Belafonte version had lyrics written by Lord Burgess and William Attaway, but the one for Hamamura who sang it in both Japanese and English had the Japanese portion provided by Seiichi Ida（井田誠一）. Although other versions of the song were released at around the same time, the Hamamura cover was the one that had the most success by selling around 300,000 copies; she would appear on the Kohaku Utagassen that year to perform it. She even became known as either "The Banana Boat Girl" or "The Calypso Girl" because of "Day-O", although in her J-Wiki file, she admitted at one point that she really wasn't into calypso but was more of a jazz fan.
Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）also contributed her vocals to the song at least once. My condolences to Belafonte's family, friends and fans.
Our resident enka and Mood Kayo expert, Noelle Tham, was the first to introduce kayo singer Koichi Miura（三浦洸一）onto the pages of our blog back in 2018 with the gallant enka of "Ochiba Shigure" (落葉しぐれ) and then the jaunty marching beat of "Benten Kozo" (弁天小僧). Just to provide some background on the singer, Miura was born Toshiyasu Kuwata（桑田利康）on New Year's Day 1928 and his stage name was based on the fact that he was born in the city of Miura in Kanagawa Prefecture. He attended what is now known as the Tokyo College of Music and after his graduation, he entered Japan Victor Records in 1952 and became the protégé of composer Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）.
With "Ochiba Shigure" and "Benten Kozo" becoming his first hits in 1953 and 1955 respectively, my contribution to the Miura file will be "Tokyo no Hito" (Tokyo People) which was also the theme song for a movie of the same name released in 1956.
Not sure if I can categorize "Tokyo no Hito" as either an enka or a Mood Kayo (although the melody by his mentor Yoshida seems to lean towards the latter). I think in the end, I would put it as that typical orchestral kayo that was seemingly made as theme songs for cinematic dramas in the nation in those days. It seems to have that somewhat melancholy feeling with a plucky guitar and a sad muted trumpet in the background as if they were describing one of the characters in the movie who is down on his/her luck in the big unforgiving city.
Lyrics were provided by another kayo veteran of the time, Takao Saeki（佐伯孝夫）, and they describe the usual trials and tribulations of love with plenty of namedropping of the various quarters in Tokyo such as Ginza, Asakusa and Shibuya. Incidentally, Miura appeared on the Kohaku Utagassen eight times between 1955 and 1963 but none of his songs included "Tokyo no Hito".
I don't know what Miura is doing at the age of 93 but his J-Wiki profile states that he had never gotten a driver's license, preferring to leave the wheel to either his wife or manager. At least there is one thing that he and I have in common.
Seeing that up to now, I've been taking care of all of the pop songs for the Tokyo House Party label over the past several days, it's now time to handle the genre of the most traditional heartfelt balladry. Namely, I'm talking about enka（演歌）with all of its sakura petals, heartfelt kobushi and Japanese instruments. I only gave a very bare bones assessment on last Saturday's livestream broadcast at "Tokyo House Party", so you can take a look at the Wikipedia description of the genre, and I can give you some of the main singers that have been representative of enka over the decades. I had initially thought that having the one article would be enough but I now believe that separating the topic into male and female articles was the right thing to do. Therefore, let's begin with the male singers.
Outside of the upcoming edition of the Kohaku in less than 3 weeks, it looks like the kayo shows are on hiatus until the middle of January or so. Therefore, I guess that I will have to rely on whatever I can find in my collection or on YouTube to see what enka or Mood Kayo I can dig up for the time being.
I did find this chestnut from way back in the 1950s by the late Keiko Matsuyama（松山恵子）titled "Juu-kyu no Ukikusa" (Precarious 19). From the title and the lyrics by Kiyoshi Maki（牧喜代司）, this particular enka tune is about a young woman (or girl, since in Japan, one is not officially an adult until the age of 20) pining for that fellow with whom she had some sort of relationship but is now parted from him, perhaps permanently. Matsuyama's vocals also show that feeling of longing and mourning.
Munetaka Hakamada's（袴田宗孝...still not sure about the reading）melody and arrangement reflects that sound of music that I had always associated with kayo from the postwar era: a studio orchestra reflecting the drama among the backdrop of the surrounding industriousness that Japan was engaging in while getting back on its feet. I could imagine that the setting is on some busy pier by the ocean or even in the rice paddies in a landlocked prefecture. Hakamada also composed Matsuyama's later hit, "O-Wakare Koshu Denwa"（お別れ公衆電話）.
According to J-Wiki, "Juu-kyu no Ukikusa" was released in October 1956 as a B-side to Takeo Fujishima's（藤島桓夫）"Wakai Sendou da yo"（若い船頭だよ...I'm A Boatman!）. I'm not sure of the practice but apparently it was common back then to place two different singers and songs on the flip sides of a 45". For Matsuyama, "Juu-kyu no Ukikusa" became a huge hit for her although she never sang the song on the Kohaku Utagassen for which she would appear 8 times.
One piece of trivia that I could find about Matsuyama is that in her later years, as seen in the above video, she had a tradition whenever she appeared on stage of wearing this huge and heavy gown that according to J-Wiki weighed about 30 to 40 kg. I think with that tiara, she looked like an ageless princess.
Apples are my fruit. I was practically weaned on Macintosh, Golden Delicious, etc. and apple pie (especially the crumble-top variety) will always be my favourite form of the pastry. When we were kids, it was an October tradition for the family to head over to Chudleigh's Apple Farm just west of Toronto to go pick those apples. That crisp autumn morning over there provided some wonderful goodies in the form of the aroma of baking apple pie and apple strudel, and often enough, we would be plied with warm and sweet apple cider. It's one of the things that I miss doing nowadays.
On tonight's episode of NHK's "Uta Kon"（うたコン）, the theme was the autumn festival in Sendai, and the Tohoku area of Japan is well known for its own apple orchards. I got to hear an enka tune performed originally by Michiya Mihashi（三橋美智也）, sung tonight by Midori Oka（丘みどり）, that I'd never heard before titled "Ringo Mura kara" (From The Village of Apples).
This was a single released back in 1956 by Mihashi that has the sentimental ring of the old hometown, a trope in kayo kyoku that was quite popular back then for all those folks who made the journey to the big cities like Tokyo to find work. The lyrics by Ryo Yano（矢野亮）start right off the bat with "Do you remember?" which could have set a lot of eyes watering up at the memories.
The music was composed by Isao Hayashi（林伊佐緒）, and Mihashi's delivery is strong but perhaps also somewhat mournful as if reflecting the feelings of all those who made that big move to the city but will not be able to return for a long while. "Ringo Mura kara" is considered to be one of Mihashi's classics and it ended up selling around 2.7 million records which is apparently his 2nd-most successful hit among his kayo songs. According to J-Wiki, "Ringo Mura kara" is tied with "Hoshikuzu no Machi"(星屑の町), and both songs are behind his No. 1 kayo hit,"Kojou"（古城）.
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!
I was just talking with contributor T-cat a couple of hours ago about how much we love the old stuff and noted as well the fact that I slightly consider myself an anachronism I may be. For instance, along with the songs, I do love watching the black-&-whites on Turner Movie Classics. And just last night, I did talk about some jazz at a time when we're approaching a century since the Jazz Age cropped up.
After making my comments to T-cat, on a whim, I decided to visit YouTube and see if there were any Izumi Yukimura（雪村いづみ）songs there. I had already given the veteran singer and actress some attention through a few articles as someone that I first got to know through TV appearances when she was well into middle age.
I'd had no idea how much of a powerhouse singer she was right from her teens and once again, I've discovered another song for her to show off her chops. This is her cover of the American pop song "Ain'tcha-cha Comin' Out T-tonight?" as originally done by Jo Stafford in 1955. Yukimura's version from 1956 was re-titled into the Japanese "Cha-Cha-Cha wa Ikaga" (How About Some Cha-Cha-Cha?).
Now as I said last night, I have liked all kinds of jazz and that also includes the Latin jazz by folks such as Tito Puente and Perez Prado. And of course, there is Japan's Orquesta de la Luz. "Cha-Cha-Cha wa Ikaga" rather gets the spicier side of nostalgia flowing. Yukimura's English delivery is really quite good although I notice that she doesn't quite stutter the "tonight" as she does enunciate the "T" almost like a special prefix. But no complaints here...the song stayed in my head all throughout watching "VS. Arashi" tonight.
Norman Gimbel and Alec Wilder created the original Stafford song with Seiichi Ida（井田誠一）providing the Japanese lyrics for Yukimura. Ida also took care of the Japanese lyrics for Yukimura's cover of "Till I Waltz Again With You", known as "Omoide no Waltz"（想い出のワルツ）in Japan..
It may have been bad timing on my part and I missed the news on NHK but I found out about Haruo Nakajima's（中島春雄）passing a couple of days ago on the local news channel here in Toronto. Now, who may Haruo Nakajima be, you ask? Well, he was an actor with a certain specialty...he put on the rubber suits for years to portray legendary kaiju such as Godzilla and Mothra.
As much as I have praised composer Akira Ifukube（伊福部 昭）for coming up with the theme song for Godzilla and even generating the sound effects for the big green lug, Nakajima was responsible for the visual representation whether Godzilla was in ferocious battle mode or being a comical ham. And along with the aforementioned monsters above, he also portrayed another big buddy, Rodan. One of my lasting memories of the big bird was seeing him team up with Godzilla and Mothra to battle the villainous King Ghidorah as seen above. It was so cool to see the teamwork!
During Monster Week on the local NBC affiliate in Buffalo (WGR-TV), I also saw the original film introducing Rodan which was released in 1956, a couple of years after "Godzilla". In fact, the screen grab you see above you is the most memorable scene for me from the movie...the pterodactyl landing and crushing down a building. The interesting piece of trivia I read about Rodan is that the original name in Japanese for him/her is Radon from the contraction of the word for the prehistoric animal pteranodon (and that's how I transcribed the name in katakana in the title line above). Apparently, when the Americans received the movie for distribution, they transposed the vowels so that viewers wouldn't get confused with the inert gas...as opposed to now possibly getting viewers confused with the new name with that of the famous sculptor, at least in a pronunciation sense (I know that the guy behind The Thinker has his name spelled "Rodin"). In any case, chemical element trumped artist.
To be honest, I don't remember anything of the theme song for Rodan. In fact, I hadn't been aware that the big bird even had a theme song. However, it was indeed Ifukube who came up with the ominous and rumbling horn-and-piano song for the movie. It starts low and slow before it starts picking up speed in the second half. From spareribs to stir-fry, as it were. Now that I have heard it, I don't think it quite holds the candle to the Godzilla theme, all due respect to the late great Ifukube.
Now that Hollywood has established a Monsterverse due to the latest King Kong movie earlier this year, it should be interesting to see all of those kaiju from my childhood come back on the big screen, although they will be sophisticated CG. Still, I hold those creatures as portrayed by Nakajima as beloved creations. He passed away at the age of 88.
This article is a sequel of sorts to my talk with my new friend, Aja, who has been practicing Japanese dance for years, Yesterday, she sent me a list of various songs that she has known, and one of them was "Tanko Bushi" (Coal Mine Melody). Now that song rang a whole lot of memory bells since I've not only heard the classic minyo but I've actually danced to it.
Let me explain. 30 years ago when I was an undergraduate at the University of Toronto, the Japanese-Canadian Students' Association (as it was called back then) had just begun its time at the St. George Campus in downtown Toronto. Not long after its genesis, we heard an advertisement for some cultural festival that was to be held, and I believe one of the components was a demonstration of the world's dances. So, one of our more effervescent members, Yoko, who had experience in dance, wanted to get a small group together to demonstrate Japan's "Tanko Bushi". My good friend, Laura, (who introduced me to Aja), myself and a few others decided to take part and so we learned how to dance it in the large common room of the residence where Yoko had lived. And the dance was practiced as how you see it above in the training video.
Somehow our motley crew got our act together and when the dance demonstration was done at the main auditorium of the Medical Sciences Building, we not only did it but we did it a second time inviting members of some of the other dance troupes. It worked out pretty well but I distinctly remember (and felt) the participating member of the Jewish Students' Union accidentally smacking me in the knees during the second run. No offense taken, though, obviously.
"Tanko Bushi" was originally recorded back in 1932. According to Wikipedia, the most popular version was the one recorded by minyo singer Masao Suzuki（鈴木正夫）, although it didn't state whether Suzuki's take was the very first recording (his career lasted from 1931 to his death in 1961). It is, though, the recording that our JCSA group followed.
The minyo is known as a folk song from Fukuoka Prefecture and at this time, it is said to have originated in the city of Tagawa with the lyrics referring to the old Miike Coal Mine. As for those lyrics and the melody, I couldn't find any record of who created the song unfortunately.
From what I've read, there have been a number of variations on "Tanko Bushi", so I'm sure enka and other kayo singers over the last century and into this one have given their renditions. The legendary Michiya Mihashi（三橋美智也）gave his contribution in 1956 according to the description under the above YouTube video with Kikutaro Takahashi（高橋掬太郎）providing some more lyrics and Toshiro Yamaguchi（山口俊郎）giving perhaps a more mellower enka-like feeling to the proceedings. Perhaps it can still be danced to.
Anyways, I'm providing the translation for the song below. It comes straight from the Wikipedia article on "Tanko Bushi".
The moon, has come out, Oh, the moon is out, heave ho Over Miike Coal Mine has the moon come out. The chimney is so high, I wonder if the moon chokes on the smoke... Heave Ho!
I caught "Uta Kon" (うたコン) on NHK for the first time in a couple of weeks since last week I had to put out a fire in terms of my work. The theme for the episode was songs of spring. However, I was surprised to hear the news right off the bat from the hosts that singer and tarento Peggy Hayama（ペギー葉山）passed away at the age of 83 last week on April 12th due to pneumonia.
Just late last month, I had put up my first article on her on "Kayo Kyoku Plus", "Gakusei Jidai"（学生時代）which was released in 1964. But she had actually been singing since 1952, and as was the case with other singers during those days, she sang a mix of kayo and covers of English-language songs.
One of the latter was the cover of what is arguably Doris Day's theme song "Que Sera Sera". The original, which was created by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans and then recorded by Day in 1956 for the Alfred Hitchcock movie "The Man Who Knew Too Much", was also given its Japanese version by Takashi Otowa（音羽たかし）for Hayama to sing. "Que Sera Sera" became another hit for Hayama who then sang it on the 7th Kohaku Utagassen in 1956, her 3rd appearance on the program.
Being somewhat of a sentimental softie deep inside, I chose "Que Sera Sera" for tonight since the song was one of the first I remember as a toddler. I distinctly remember seeing the opening credits for "The Doris Day Show" (1968-1973) on TV which featured the song as the theme. And my mother actually bought me a record of Doris Day songs for children.
Just to finish off, I discovered something rather interesting about Takashi Otowa. The name was actually a pseudonym of sorts used by directors at King Records whenever they translated a song into Japanese. However, unlike Hollywood directors who would use the name Alan Smithee to disown a movie they made but under duress, there was no intent of protest with the use of Takashi Otowa.
According to J-Wiki, the managing director for King Records, Go Makino（牧野剛）, was one of the staffers who took on the Otowa name to provide the Japanese words for Hayama's "Que Sera Sera".
As promised from last night's article "Happiness" by Godiego's Yukihide Takekawa (タケカワユキヒデ), I have a kayo that would have been used as a nice ditty to go with a wedding reception.
Titled "Koko ni Shiawase Ari" (There Is Happiness Here) from 1956, this was the second single recorded by Yoshiko Ohtsu（大津美子）following her debut of the spicy"Tokyo Anna"（東京アンナ）. Unlike the rumbling Mood Kayo of that song, "Koko ni Shiawase Ari" is a tenderhearted love song that sounds as if it could have been recorded anytime between the 1920s and the 1950s. And I think Ohtsu's high-pitched operatic vocals fit this song even better than with "Tokyo Anna". Perhaps I could see her as the Japanese equivalent of Jeannette McDonald(Google it).
The song was written by Kikutaro Takahashi（高橋掬太郎）and composed by Saburo Iida（飯田三郎）. Even though I couldn't find out any details on exactly how many records were sold, "Koko ni Shiawase Ari", according to J-Wiki's article on the singer, was an unprecedented hit for Ohtsu. Apparently, it's still a karaoke favourite among ethnic Japanese living in far-flung places such as Hawaii and Brazil. As you can see above, the singer has performed it on stage many times but although she has appeared on NHK's Kohaku Utagassen a total of 7 times, she only performed her hit song just once at her final appearance on the New Year's Eve special in 1990.
The moment I saw the "Wakare no" in Hachi's "Wakare no Hatoba", I wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of listening to it. Instincts told me that it would be similar to the First Enka Singer's hit, "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" (別れの一本杉) - sluggish and melancholic with a heavy atmosphere. While I don't mind the latter, I have to admit that I'm still not as excepting of the slow enka. If at all, under normal circumstances, it'll take me a while to warm up to it. But I gave in as the gnawing curiosity got the better of me. I checked out that video up there and was I surprised to hear something that's jauntier and about twice as fast as "Ippon Sugi". Even Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) warbling sounded more lighthearted. I took a liking to it immediately.
While "Wakare no Hatoba" features your typical enka topic of lovers parting, this time at a wharf, Tetsuro Fujima's (藤間哲郎) lyrics feel more positive as our couple here are trying to make the most out of their last night together by taking a walk down and around their usual haunt by the sea, starting with the man comforting his lady who seems all too sad to see their relationship end. Wonder if he's putting on a brave front. Composingthis song was Yo Maki (真木陽).
(Hiroshi Itsuki's performance)
"Wakare no Hatoba" was released in 1956 as Kasuga's 23rd single. Though I don't think it was as successful as "Ippon Sugi", it seems like "Hatoba" might have been well received, and I see many videos of this song on YouTube so that must account for something, right?
People back in the 50's must really have a thing for trains. Here we have another train song, this time by Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也), the last of the trio of reputable Enka singers I've been covering - the other two being Hideo Murata (村田英雄) and Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎). Murata had this aura of intimidation, Kasuga had this little smile with dimples and Mihashi had this stoic and sometimes even blank look on his face.
Anyway, 'Aishu Ressha' or 'The melancholy train' was Michi's13thsingle and was released on June1956. And since its a melancholic song, he sings the first few words of the song like he is crying out in anguish.
Its lyrics were done by lyricist Hiroshi Yokoi (横井 弘), who also contributed the lyrics to quite a number of Michi's songs. And the music was composed by... something... Kamata(鎌多俊与). I think it did pretty alright, there wasn't any write up on this song either. All I know is that it was a million seller and landed him his first Kohaku appearance in 1956, and he sang it again at the 25th Kohaku in 1974 after 11 years of respite.
Mihashi, a Hokkaido native, actually kinda began his singing career in 1942 at the age of 12 after winning a Minyo (folk music) singing competition a year before. But he officially debuted in 1955 as an Enka singer with 'Onna Sendo Uta' (おんな船頭唄) after moving to Tokyo to find work, and working at an onsen as a boiler engineer in Yokohama while teaching Minyo. Oh yeah, and Takashi Hosokawa (細川たかし) was a student of his.
Aya Shimazu (島津亜矢), another Enka singer whom I always see doing covers of Saburo Kitajima's (北島三郎) songs also did her own rendition of 'Aishu Resha'. She conveys the anguish well, too.
Being Mother's Day and all, my family took Mom out for dinner last night and then I took her and Dad out this morning for breakfast. And my contribution here is to put up what has been selected as one of the "Nihon no Uta Hyakusen"（日本の歌百選...The Collection of 100 Japanese Songs), a set of the most beloved Japanese songs and children's songs chosen in a 2006 poll and announced the following year.
"Kaasan no Uta" (Mother's Song) was written and composed by Satoshi Kubota（窪田聡） in 1956 when he was in his early twenties, and the lyrics speak of his memories of packages from his mother and the time that he and his family were evacuated to his father's hometown from Tokyo in Nagano Prefecture during the war. Listening to the melody, it doesn't have to be Mother's Day to have lumps in throats developing all of a sudden.
According to J-Wiki, the first singer behind "Kaasan no Uta" was the late jazz/kayo kyoku singer Peggy Hayama（ペギ葉山）, but being such a famous song, it's probably been covered by dozens of singers over the last 50 odd years or so. I tried and failed to find Hiromi Iwasaki's heartrending version, but I did find Chieko Baisho's（倍賞千恵子） just-as-wonderful cover although I don't know when her single was released. And when I think of Baisho's famous role as Sakura in the "Tora-san" movie series, she sounds like one of the ideal people to sing it.
If memory serves, I think my graduating class from Japanese Language School had to sing "Kaasan no Uta" among other tunes for some of the people who took care of us during our 1981 trip through Japan. I can't really say whether we did a good job with it but I hope our benefactors were as generous in spirit accepting our musical gift as the mother in the song had been.
