Hachiro Kasuga — Izakaya (居酒屋)

 

Ever had a food you disliked and actively avoided for as long as you could remember, but one fine day you decide to give it another chance, and you end up liking it? For me, that’d be spring/green onion. As a child, I found its green presence in what I thought would’ve been the perfect dish highly offensive. But the aforementioned process occurred somewhere along the line, and now it’s something I actively want in my food. It’s such a strange phenomenon, isn’t it?

In the kayo context, my spring onion is what is commonly referred to as Hachiro Kasuga’s (春日八郎) signature sound. It’s a dark and plaintive sort of melody on the minor key of the yonanuki (pentatonic) scale that adds a layer of foreboding to Kasuga’s already forlorn tone. Generally speaking, I was never really keen on this sort of melody as I was of the mind that listening to stuff like that would dampen or exacerbate my poor mood. My picky taste thus had me avoiding such Kasuga Bushi, which ironically, were the bulk of Kasuga’s hits. Writing my thesis and joining the Kasuga Enka Denshokai made me accept the “enka” in the “enka singer”, but the greater exposure to Hachi’s vast discography did little to change my preferences. Then one day just this year, something in my brain chemistry must've changed, but I became more open to the Kasuga standards I'd been actively avoiding. There were days when my usual selection just didn't sit right with my mood - neither sad or happy - but these darker numbers were able to just about compliment it. Their haunting melodies and their arrangements suddenly became so fascinating and hypnotic. Nothing represents this change I had better than Izakaya.

Izakaya is a constant in Hachi's compilation albums and recitals, and seems to be a fan favourite. It was released in January 1958, and written by lyricist Hiroshi Yokoi (横井弘) and composed by Toshiyo Kamata (鎌多俊与). Its somber atmosphere and theme of moping at a bar would become key enka genre attributes, but I couldn't understand its appeal. My initial enka-kayo pickiness had me dismissing it as a boring mood dampener, and in later days, just one of the representative enka prototypes. 

However, I was quite recently doing something that had me picking an enka-like Kasuga Bushi that encompasses someone very enka and very Hachiro Kasuga. The first song that popped into my head, for some reason, was Izakaya. At the time, I had only just begun to appreciate the dark, minor key tunes and their magnetic arrangements, and Izakaya rarely if ever came up on my radar until that moment. Still, I was satisfied with my choice, and I think that was when I began to savor the flavours Toshi-san had created in this beloved hit: bitter, heavy, dry... But highly addictive. For something I disliked, it did a great job for getting stuck in my head. I could've sworn I listened to it at least twice a day for the past couple of weeks.

It also goes without saying that Hachi's mournful warble blended perfectly with the haunting melody. It makes the protagonist sound like he's struggling to hold back tears of anguish from falling into his drink. Yet, Hachi is also fantastic at conveying hope and empathy in the midst of despair, and so the consoling, emotional warmth our protagonist gets from his go-to bar cuts through the song's overall melancholic tone. 

So, is this what folks mean when they say "Kasuga Bushi", or rather, "Kasuga Enka"? I think I'm starting to get it.

Speaking of which, by some mind-bending coincidence, the aforementioned enka person later sang Izakaya while representing the Hachi club at a karaoke recital. I also have reason to believe that it's one of their cherished Kasuga Bushi, although I didn't know that when I affixed the song to them. Weird. I suppose that just affirmed by intuition.

Hachi would re-record Izakaya on stereo in 1970 with a different arrangement (the above video). While his more matured, slightly lower voice accentuates the song's inherent sadness, the haunting atmosphere of Toshi-san's original arrangement is what I can't get enough of... Sorry, Toshi-san, you really did cook with this one - I was the clown for not seeing it this whole time.

Anyway, Izakayas are not my kind of place. I bury my head in my favourite singers or surround myself with nature when depressed. So, in that respect, I don't think I can resonate completely with the concept of moping in a bar over alcohol as in the likes of Izakaya. That said, slowly coming around to enka style tunes/enka/Kasuga Bushi of this sound feels like quite the big milestone in my enka journey I'd never thought I'd reach. And that took me like, what, 12-ish years? 

"You'll understand enka when you're older." This is a phrase often used to explain enka's older fan base. I had even been told that several times - in fact, that very enka person had even said that I'm still too young to fully comprehend enka and its emotional depth. Admittedly, I took some offence to that, and just took it as a generalizing statement. After all, everyone goes through different things, and thus a listener can interpret and resonate with a song in different ways. But after this Izakaya episode, I'm inclined to believe that there's some truth to this saying, one way or another. I suppose it is really like acquiring the taste of spring onions.

P.S. J-Canuck did a writeup on Izakaya several years ago, so you can check it out here.

P.S.S. Izakaya was theme song of episode 8 on the first radio show Hachi hosted, Kasuga Hachiro no Shinmiri Enka Daizenshu (春日八郎のしんみり演歌大全集) in late 1982. The episode had the great Yokoi on as a special guest, and they talked about the results of a kayokyoku survey held by the Nihonshu Center (日本酒センター) that featured postwar kayo with themes, titles, and lyrics related to alcohol released between 1950 and 1981. To my mild surprise, Hachi claimed the top spot for being the singer with the most number of said songs: 26. Yokoi came first in the lyricist category, while Minoru Endo was first in the composer category.

Storm Songs

 

I'd like to interrupt this broadcast of "Kayo Kyoku Plus" for a weather announcement. Toronto is currently being pummeled with a foot of snow with the temperature at around -14 degrees Celsius with a wind chill factor of -25. Autos are skidding off the roads and a lot of institutions are closing due to the weather (including schools; yay, Snow Day!😊). It'll probably be one of the rare days that I don't step out of the house, period.

But hey, it's January in my hometown and this sort of stuff is expected. And I've decided to put up an emergency Author's Picks based on storms.

(1958) Yujiro Ishihara -- Arashi wo Yobu Otoko (嵐を呼ぶ男）

(1979) Tatsuro Yamashita -- Storm

(1982) Taeko Ohnuki -- Tsumuji Kaze （つむじ風）

(1984) Yumi Matsutoya -- Blizzard

(1999) Arashi -- A-RA-SHI

Tatsuya Nakadai -- Ginza Rock'n（銀座ロックン）

 

We were all at the dining table away from the television although we could hear the NHK report. As soon as I heard "Famed for his performances in Akira Kurosawa's 'Ran' and "Yojimbo'...", we all knew that this was an obituary and it was for the master thespian Tatsuya Nakadai（仲代達矢）who passed away on November 8th at the age of 92.

Whenever I heard the name Tatsuya Nakadai, although I was never one to watch a lot of Japanese dramas either on the big screen or the small screen for a lot of my life, my image of him was one of thespianship on the level of Laurence Olivier whether it be in front of a camera or on the stage. He probably was at home doing either Shakespeare or jidai geki, and that slightly hangdog expression seemed to hide a lot of roiling emotions underneath. Speaking of Shakespeare and jidai geki, the only movie I saw with him in it was Kurosawa's "Ran"（乱）in 1985 (although I read that he did have an uncredited bit role in the legendary "Seven Samurai") which had some inspiration from "King Lear".

I have to admit that I have yet to see Kurosawa's other past classic "Yojimbo"（用心棒）, and that is indeed young Nakadai challenging grizzled Toshiro Mifune to a final duel.

Being someone who's in the music field rather than the acting one, I'm ill-equipped to give any sort of tribute to Nakadai; it's probably better reading his Wikipedia profile or any of the eulogies that will pop up on YouTube in the next several days by fellow actors such as his acolyte, Koji Yakusho. However, scrolling down the J-Wiki article regarding him, I did find that he had released four singles, three of which came out in 1958.

The last single to come out in that year was "Kosame no Chuushajou"（小雨の駐車場...The Parking Lot During a Shower） but I'm focusing on the B-side which is "Ginza Rock'n", all about having one swinging time in downtown Tokyo with the girlfriend. Written by Hisao Ohtaka（大高ひさを）and composed by Ryosuke Murasawa（村沢良介）, it's some rockabilly kayo but what is noticeable that Nakadai, although he was only around 25 at the time of recording, delivers the song in that recognizable baritone that has distinguished him throughout his long career. My condolences to his family, friends and many fans.

James Miki -- Sakaba no Katasumi de（酒場の隅で）

 

Screenwriter, writer and former singer James Miki（ジェームス･三木）passed away at the age of 91 on June 14th. For some reason, his name rang a bell when I first heard his obituary on NHK last night. Being the writer behind many many scripts on TV and movies since 1969, I probably did hear his name quite a bit although I've never been all that avid a watcher of Japanese productions.

However, his name has been mentioned among the pages of "Kayo Kyoku Plus" once. He was the writer for the 1985 NHK morning serial drama "Miotsukushi"（澪つくし）which garnered one of the highest average ratings; he was even the lyricist for the sung version of its theme song as recorded by Etsuko Sai（彩恵津子）. A couple of years later, he would also be responsible for writing the script for the NHK historical drama "Dokuganryū Masamune"（独眼竜政宗）, showing the life and times of the legendary feudal lord Masamune Date（伊達政宗）as depicted by a young Ken Watanabe（渡辺謙）.

But as I mentioned up at the top, Miki, who had been born Kiyomoto Yamashita（山下清泉）in what had been Manchukuo, was a singer for a very short while before deciding that he would fare better as a writer. According to J-Wiki and part of an interview during the NHK tribute to him, he was given his stage name by his representative record company along the same lines as more famous singers such as Dick Mine（ディック・ミネ）and Frank Nagai（フランク永井）. When he switched from recording to writing, he simply kept his stage name as a new pen name.

That short while of singing took up the years of 1957 and 1958, and at one point, he was even the warmup act for the aforementioned Nagai and singer Haruo Minami（三波春夫）. His second of three singles released in 1958 was "Sakaba no Katasumi de" (In One Corner of a Bar). Written by Kazuo Negishi（根岸一男）and composed by Kenroku Uehara（上原賢六）, I wasn't quite sure whether to categorize this rather gentle song as a straight kayo kyoku or an enka tune. Despite the titular spot, I certainly couldn't call it a Mood Kayo but in the end, since I see it labeled on YouTube as a ryukoka（流行歌）, the old way of saying kayo kyoku, I've given it the pop label. 

It's only the one song I've heard, but I don't think Miki was any slouch at singing at all. However, he obviously found a much more lucrative and fulfilling career handling a pen rather than a microphone. My condolences to his family, friends and fans.

Isao Hayashi -- Tokyo Serenade (東京セレナーデ)

I've finished my Master's Thesis on Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) and did my defense just a few days ago, so I wanted to do a brain-off entry containing nothing but my fan ramblings to wind down. It is with that preface that I bring to you this unhinged article. Enjoy.

I've joked with friends that Isao Hayashi is my "Contract Husbando". By that I mean that he has a place in my current "Favourite Fellows" group simply by way of me being a member of his posthumous fan club instead of meeting my baseline criteria (first). Just to be clear, I like Hayashi, but it never naturally got to favourite territory. Hayashi doesn't have to be part of the group, but it was odd to be part of a fan club and not be a fan (this is just a principle of mine). 

As one who didn't use to join fan clubs, these singer-specific communities were initially reserved for those I greatly loved. But since, by an unexpected turn of events, Hayashi was able to skip my natural husbando path progression, we had to work backwards to achieve similar results. The first course of action was the nickname: Hayashi Sensei, but written in the extra casual way and in all katakana (ハヤシセンセ). It just felt right, for some reason. "Isa-chan", as suggested by my oshikatsu enabler friend Ms. C, was immediately vetoed. No. 

Next, the music. One of my kayo friends graciously lent me the chunky 6-disc Hayashi Isao Daizenshu (林伊佐緒大全集) from 1995 which allowed me to explore what Hayashi Sensei really had on offer (outside of jazz min'yo) as I laboured through my thesis. Honestly, things were looking a little bleak at first. I wasn't vibing with much of what I was hearing. Eventually, a song had my ears pricking up and had me going, "Oh, this ain't bad!" It was a bright jazzy tune with a 1930s modern Tokyo atmosphere. "Hayashi wrote this, right? As expected of the jazz singer-songwriter!" I thought as I opened the lyric booklet.

Hanasaku Tokyo (花咲く東京) - Composer: Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴)

Well, now*. I wasn't even deliberately looking for his works.

I enjoyed Hanasaku Tokyo, but I could only hear Mr. Nakano - it sounded like a song he would sing. Nakano and Hayashi are, to me, very similar (jazz singer-songwriters from prewar Japan who happened to be in postwar King Records making songs for Hachi) but also very different (voice, musical style, vibe, physical appearance). I mentioned this to Ms. C recently and she raised an apt allegory: When you put black and white together, it makes the black blacker, the white whiter. Mr. Nakano is second to Hachi in my books currently, so having Nakano in the Hayashi discovery journey only reminded me that I preferred him out of the two. That wouldn't do. I wanted something where I could hear and feel Hayashi Sensei... Please do not take this out of context.

It took a few more CDs and going through some decent numbers, but the moment that light tango-flavoured melody hit my ears, I knew immediately that we had a breakthrough. This song was Tokyo Serenade. Hayashi took care of the music and arrangement, while his frequent collaborator Juzaburo Tojo (東条寿三郎) was in charge of the words. While I haven't yet found any concrete date of release, tracing it from the record label number (C1662), it was likely originally released around October 1958.

Looking at Tojo's lyrics, the lonely image of our main character gazing at the yellow moon and the streets of Tokyo from his abode comes to mind. He is trying to forget the one who got away, but he cannot seem to forget them on this chilly autumn night. Hayashi Sensei's jaunty upbeat melody seems to betray the longing our protagonist feels at first, but the strings do convey a sense forlornness. Perhaps he's trying to cheer himself up by moon gazing, but he just can't chase away those grey clouds over his head. 

If I were to be completely honest, Tokyo Serenade sounded a little bit like a combination of Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也) Osaraba Tokyo (おさらば東京) (incidentally one of my all-time favourite Nakano compositions) and Akira Matsudaira's (松平晃) Wakaki Hi no Haru (若き日の春). Despite the reminders of the formidable combo that is Mr. Nakano and Akira-san, Tokyo Serenade still felt Hayashi. I could envision him singing it to me. I want to see him sing it. I reckon that it was at that point when I felt that Hayashi's place on my list became less precarious. I really like his cha-cha-themed Ai no Katami (愛のかたみ) as well, which unfortunately, is not available online. That said, I'd say that I still have a ways to go in taking out the "Contract" in "Contract Husbando" for Hayashi Sensei. But y'know, I think we're getting there. 

P.S. One thing I noticed about Hayashi Sensei's works is that he has a lot of tango-inspired kayo. Or, at least, the many of the songs in Daizenshu past 1955 were of that sort. My impression (could be completely wrong) is that tango-flavoured kayo began to fade come the late 50s, making way for mambo and later cha-cha. Maybe Hayashi just liked tango. 

*Nakano did compose some songs for Hayashi in the early to mid-1950s. Hayashi was likely on a singer contract in addition to being a contract composer at King Records, i.e. he would have had songs made for him by other contract composers in the company, like Nakano. Hence, the Nakano-Hayashi combo was nothing out of the ordinary by pre-1960s Japanese record industry standards. I just found it unbelievably hilarious that, by pure coincidence, the first non-jazz-min'yo Hayashi song I took an interest in was connected to Nakano, who I was trying to set aside for Hayashi's sake.

This was a wild article to write.

Yujiro Ishihara -- Akai Hatoba（赤い波止場）

 

Last week on "Uta Con"（うたコン）, several minutes were devoted to the songs of Yujiro Ishihara（石原裕次郎）, The Tough Guy, so I got to hear a number of tunes that already have representation here on the blog. Timing is everything so of course, this special segment was featured only a few weeks before his birthday on December 27th which would have been his 90th birthday.

The song "Futari no Sekai"（二人の世界）was sung live on the NHK stage that night and I thought about covering that one...except that I had already done so back in the summer of 2017. Well, I looked around for some other Ishihara tune and came across this one, "Akai Hatoba" (Red Quay), in his discography that had its own J-Wiki article. One reason is that this Ishihara entry was also the name of a September 1958 crime movie starring The Big Man himself. It was the 1950s so he was still playing the lean and mean young punk getting into yakuza trouble. All I can say about the above nightclub scene is that apparently it didn't take too long in the postwar era for hedonism to return in full bloom.

The theme song "Akai Hatoba" is an intriguing one. Written by Yoichi Nakagawa（中川洋一）and composed by Hajime Kaburagi（鏑木創）, it's still years away from Ishihara's crooning Mood Kayo tones, although the aforementioned "Futari no Sekai" did come out in 1965 as one early example. Furthermore, it's also not the jazz-rock stomp of his classic "Arashi wo Yobu Otoko" (嵐を呼ぶ男）that oozes danger. "Akai Hatoba" strikes me more as an uptempo kayo march which seems a bit odd when put up against that nightclub scene of tawdriness and immorality, although that is the only scene I've witnessed of the movie. Nakagawa's lyrics have Ishihara singing about how happy in love he is while traversing the port which in the movie is supposed to be Kobe. I wonder whether Ishihara's character of Jiro remains that happy by the end of the movie.

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.

Frank Nagai -- Nishi-Ginza Eki Mae（西銀座駅前）

 

Oh, Nishi-Ginza Station (West Ginza Station)? Heck, I know that subway station...not too far away from the main intersection, eh? 

Ahhh, no. Sorry, that wouldn't be correct since there is no station known as Nishi-Ginza Station on the Tokyo Metro. There is a Higashi-Ginza Station（東銀座駅...East Ginza Station） on the Toei Asakusa Line and the Hibiya Line that I've gotten off at, but putting in Nishi-Ginza Station into the search engines will only get you the title of an early film by the late Shohei Imamura（今村昌平）titled "Nishi-Ginza Eki Mae" (In Front of Nishi-Ginza Station) which was released in 1958.

Just from my observation, it seems as if the less-than-one-hour comedy has been given short shrift by about everybody including Imamura himself, according to this review at "Blueprint: Review". There's not even a J-Wiki article about the movie. Only the second movie that he directed, Imamura was apparently trying to go for some variant on "The Seven-Year Itch" (1955) by Billy Wilder and starring Marilyn Monroe.

The interesting thing is that Mood Kayo crooner Frank Nagai（フランク永井）seems to have a mystical role to play in the movie as not only the narrator but also a subway staffer and a lounge singer. Not surprisingly, he sings the titular theme song which is how I found out about the movie in the first place. Written by veterans Takao Saeki（佐伯孝夫）and Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）, it's a brassy jazz piece with a bit of rockabilly guitar mostly about one fellow's frequent visitations to the club in the Ginza neighbourhood in search of drink and dames. I was a bit struck by that line of "ABC...XYZ" which I thought would have been ideal in a "Sesame Street" tune or something by an aidoru much later in the century.

Gosanke: Enka Sanba Garasu（演歌三羽烏）

 

Continuing on with the Gosanke（御三家）series, I believe that this will be the first of the series in 2023. To start off, I'd like to introduce the Enka Sanba Garasu (The Three Ravens of Enka) who actually predate the first music industry-based Ganso Gosanke（元祖御三家）by several years, although I couldn't find out when these three had the label put onto them. Mind you, the Ganso Sannin Musume（元祖三人娘）had been brought together before the Enka Sanba Garasu by a few years.

According to J-Wiki, there were three other Sanba Garasu within Japan's show business thus needing to put on the enka tab. For the Enka Sanba Garasu, we have Hachiro Kasuga（春日八郎）, Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也) and Hideo Murata (村田英雄). They all made their debut in the 1950s with Murata being the last one by coming out with "Muhomatsu no Issho" (無法松の一生) in 1958. As for why any trio back then would be compared with ravens or crows, I don't really have an idea since I think crows have had the image of being quite cunning and suspicious, but one part of J-Wiki mentions that the bird has had the title of being "a messenger for the gods". Mind you, I've had my own personal "encounters" with crows, usually on garbage day.

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

Michiya Mihashi -- Ano Ko ga Naiteru Hatoba (あの娘が泣いてる波止場)

Hideo Murata -- Muhomatsu no Issho (無法松の一生)

Leroy Anderson/Johnny Mathis/Natalie Cole -- Sleigh Ride

from Wikipedia

Not being particularly an overall fan of the arts, I can still gather that one form of art has begat another form in terms of inspiration. One example was something that I'd read on the Wikipedia article for the Christmas classic "Sleigh Ride" created by Leroy Anderson in 1948. Apparently, Mitchell Parish's lyrics for the song were inspired by printmaking company Currier and Ives' 1867 lithograph "American Homestead, Winter". Indeed, it's a lovely Xmas scene.

Of course, with my limited knowledge of the visual arts, I'm always going to think of "Sleigh Ride" as a musical representation of anything by Norman Rockwell, the go-to artist whenever I think of homey and peaceful Americana. Crisp winter air, the aroma of turkey and/or apple pie wafting from the kitchen window and the sight of that horse-led sleigh sliding steadily over the fresh snow will forever join Anderson's music of jingle bells, clopping hooves and happy and busy instruments which often go into triumphant marching mode.

I've never experienced a Christmas of this magnitude so hearing "Sleigh Ride" on the radio and then YouTube always brings a certain level of envy to accompany the cheeriness of the season. Perhaps it would indeed be lovely weather to enjoy a sleigh ride together with somebody someday.

I wanted to include Johnny Mathis' version of "Sleigh Ride" from his 1958 album "Merry Christmas" since it is of course the sung version which features Parish's lyrics. Hey, plus it is Johnny behind the mike; his voice is worth it and he's already got an entry on the Xmas part of Reminiscings of Youth through one more track on "Merry Christmas", "The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)". The legendary Nat King Cole also shares space on that article for his own rendition.

Ah, speaking of Nat King Cole, his daughter Natalie Cole gave her own rendition of "Sleigh Ride" in her September 1999 album "The Magic of Christmas". I don't think that anything will top the original Anderson instrumental version, but I have to admit that as a guy who loves his Christmas and jazz in equal measure, Natalie's collaboration with the London Symphony Orchestra to create this blow-out-the-doors swing jazz and pop orchestral cover is the bee's knees. There's a bit of the tongue-in-cheekiness in the horns blasting away like crazy but everyone's having fun here; maybe Cole and the bunch were fueled by a little too much nog.

Incidentally, "Sleigh Ride" is known in Japan as "Sori Suberi"（そりすべり）.

So, going with the September 1999 date, what were the Songs of the Year according to the Japan Record Awards from that year?

Hikaru Utada -- Automatic

Dango Gasshodan -- Dango San Kyodai （だんご３兄弟）

Morning Musume -- Love Machine (LOVEマシーン）

Ah, also to let you know of a small announcement. Scott of the podcast "Holly Jolly X'masu", Rocket Brown of "Come Along Radio" and yours truly will be setting up shop in Masa's Neo Tokyo server in Discord on Saturday December 17th from 6 am Pacific Standard Time/9 am Eastern Standard Time to go over some of those Japanese Christmas tunes and any of our own Xmas war stories. I've got a couple of those. In any case, you may want to check in with Rocket about any further details on his Twitter account or Discord. Hope to see you then.

Chiyoko Shimakura -- Karatachi Nikki（からたち日記）

 

Getting a bit late in the night but I just wanted to put up one more article since it's based on one more performance that I'd seen last night on "Uta Con"（うたコン）. Did want to make it a set to join Stardust Revue's "Sugar wa O-Toshigoro"（シュガーはお年頃）and Kiyoshi Hikawa's（氷川きよし） "Koushuuji"（甲州路）. 

Enka singer Fuyumi Sakamoto（坂本冬美）appeared on the show to pay tribute to her fellow entertainer and singer Chiyoko Shimakura（島倉千代子）nine years following her passing, and the song that she sang was "Karatachi Nikki" (Japanese Bitter Orange Diary). This was a 1958 single that Shimakura had recorded with lyricist Sou Nishizawa（西沢爽）and composer Minoru Endo（遠藤実） behind the songwriting. It's a very poignant enka about learning the hard lesson about that first love and that it often ends up in that first heartbreak. Incidentally, the above version is a 1963 re-recording of the song on Shimakura's YouTube channel.

Most of the song takes on a very wistful and content pattern but for several seconds in the middle, it goes into a minor key to signify the loss of love. As well, I think the title was well chosen since as the translation of it shows, the breakup is quite bitter. Plus, from what I've read about the karatachi（枸橘）or the Japanese bitter orange on Wikipedia is that its bitterness is such that it's practically inedible although it can apparently be made into marmalade and medicine against inflammation.

Another interesting thing that I read about "Karatachi Nikki" on J-Wiki was that it broke a jinx observed in the music industry back then. Evidently, kayo containing a spoken-word segment were seen as non-sellers. Well, "Karatachi Nikki" roundly smashed that superstition by selling around 1.3 million records and if Oricon had been around in the late 1950s, the song would have hit No. 1 easily. No worries about any lack of accolades though since Shimakura was invited to sing the song on the 9th edition of the Kohaku Utagassen in 1958 and in her appearances on the 1973 and 1984 shows. In fact, Shimakura starred in an adaptation of the song into a motion picture in 1959; in 1967, there was a TV drama version as well although I'm not sure whether Shimakura was in that one.

Vince Guaraldi -- Great Pumpkin Waltz/Graveyard Theme (from "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown")

 

In the last few years of my stay in Japan, I was collecting those big volumes of the old "Peanuts" newspaper strips which began in 1950. Although those tomes went all the way to Charles M. Schulz's final productions in 2000, I basically stopped collecting them after I reached the 1980 edition since I think the heyday of Charlie Brown and Snoopy was within those first thirty years. The above two photos display the October 26, 1959 strip showing Linus' first mention of the Great Pumpkin as Lucy must be thinking about committing her little brother to a hospital somewhere.

Interestingly enough, it was 56 years ago today that the television adaptation of those Halloween hijinks of Charlie and the gang made its debut on CBS. "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" made its premiere less than a year after "A Charlie Brown Christmas" as the second holiday-themed Peanuts special, and I've also enjoyed this Halloween-themed one over the decades. The introduction of the show with Linus and Lucy getting out into the pumpkin patch, accompanied by a reprise of the iconic "Linus and Lucy" by jazz pianist and composer Vince Guaraldi, was able to remind viewers of the Van Pelt siblings' different personalities without a word said in the first minute and a half.

Linus' raving and ranting about the Great Pumpkin aside, I think the one other scene that has stuck in fans' memories is Charlie Brown's perennial "treat".

Now, as I promised when I wrote on the theme song for "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" a few weeks ago, I will be giving my Halloween-themed Reminiscings of Youth article (KKP's 9,100st!) in the form of the song that has remained in my head from "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown". "Great Pumpkin Waltz" by Guaraldi and five other musicians was a song whose title I hadn't even known; it was just a number that I knew as a theme for the special. It wasn't until I had purchased George Winston's tribute to Guaraldi, "Linus and Lucy: The Music of Vince Guaraldi" in 1996 and listened to Winston's slower, longer and even more soulful rendition the piece that not only did I finally find out the title but also that it was a particularly beautiful waltz. It's up there with one other waltz created for pop ears, "Lover", by Rodgers and Hart which was also a ROY article early last year. The original by Guaraldi hits harder in the special especially in the scene when Sally Brown decides to sit in the pumpkin patch with her sweet Baboo.

When I was prepping this ROY article, I discovered that the music which accompanies the title reveal and the Peanuts kids getting spooked was also pretty good, so I've included it here. According to Wikipedia, it was originally titled by Guaraldi as "D Minor-Major Groove" when he did a recording session with bassist John Mosher and drummer Johnny Markham back in 1958, but he brought it back for the special under the new title of "Graveyard Theme". There is some playfully sinister feeling in the brief musical cue, although I think that for a graveyard song, it's still pretty happy.

Anyways, I will be coming up with a J-Halloween song for next Monday. There were a few singles coming out in Japan around October 1966 of course, although Halloween wouldn't become a thing for a few more decades there.

Linda Yamamoto -- Kommachauna （こまっちゃうナ） (September 1966)

The Wild Ones -- Omoide no Nagisa（想い出の渚） (November 1966)

The Spiders -- Yuuhi ga Naiteiru (夕陽が泣いている） (September 1966)

Chiemi Eri -- You Are My Destiny

 

Checking into my Twitter account last night, one fellow tweeter divulged the information that January 11th is Chiemi Eri's（江利チエミ）birthday and had she lived beyond her all-too-short life, she would have been 85 years old today.

At first, I thought that I would acknowledge the late Eri's birthday with one of her most recognized songs, a cover of "Tennessee Waltz", only to realize that I'd already written about it back in late 2016. But taking on my "never-say-die" attitude, I did find another cover that she did (and in the 1950s and 1960s, it was de rigueur for singers to cover the Western hits) in 1958 for Canadian singer-songwriter Paul Anka's late 1957 "You Are My Destiny". The Japanese version by Eri was translated into "Kimi wa Waga Sadame"（君は我が運命）. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the person who was responsible for the Japanese lyrics.

I'd never heard of "You Are My Destiny" before, but it strikes me as this fairly anguished heart-on-one's-sleeve confession of love. It's quite the jazzy torch song and I wonder whether (tongue-in-cheek) the ballad was the inspiration for the many one-sided love kayo in the decades to come.

For comparison, here is the original "You Are My Destiny" by the young Anka. It was a hit on the Billboard chart, coming in at No. 8 in 1958. With that title, though, I couldn't help but be reminded of that scene in the very first "Back to the Future" when George McFly kept screwing up that sentence for Lorraine.

Nat King Cole/Johnny Mathis -- The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)

 

Man, what a quandary! Choosing between Nat King Cole and Johnny Mathis over who gave the definitive version of "The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)" is kinda like having to opt for either turkey or glazed ham as the main dish on December 25th. Maybe it's an easy decision for you readers but for me, I think that both versions of the 1945 Mel Torme/Robert Wells creation are absolutely brilliant.

And to throw something out of left field at you, I think "The Christmas Song" and Tatsuro Yamashita's（山下達郎）"Christmas Eve" have something in common. To specify, both songs apparently came about as a counter-response to the season known as summer. Tats didn't particularly appreciate being brushed off as being merely a summer song singer so he lashed back with the J-Xmas song that has become a perennial tune to be played on TV and in the stores. Meanwhile, according to Wikipedia, "The Christmas Song" was born when Torme and Wells needed to beat back some torrid July heat by thinking and writing about cool thoughts. Not sure if the ploy worked in terms of any cooling effect, but it's safe to say that "The Christmas Song" has become far more eternal as a beloved Xmas number.

I'm going to start off with Johnny Mathis' version of the song since it was the first version that I had ever heard as a kid thanks to that Ronco LP "A Christmas Gift" with all of those chestnuts (pun fully intended) on it. Originally coming from his "Merry Christmas" album from October 1958, Mathis' dulcet delivery has had me tearing up sometimes in the past because of its wistfully magical and wonderful arrangement with the strings and the chorus behind him. This is the song that has people ensuring that they have fireplaces in their new homes.

For several years, Mathis' take was the only one that I knew but then I finally heard Nat King Cole's version on a jazz compilation of Xmas songs that I bought in Japan. The interesting thing is that the legendary Cole had recorded at least four versions of "The Christmas Song" starting from 1946 with the 1961 take being the most beloved version. Again, those iconic vocals are front and centre here but the feeling of his take is epic and intimate at the same with the strings helping out on the former while the jazz group feel takes care of the latter. It's like listening to it at Cole's own home Xmas party with good friends and family surrounding the piano.

Like a lot of eternal standards, "The Christmas Song" is just one of those tunes that was crafted so well that any professional singer and/or musician could send it out of the park if they were of a mind to do so. Jazz pianist Vince Guaraldi gave his version on the soundtrack for "A Charlie Brown Christmas" and even Mariya Takeuchi（竹内まりや）has brought her own cover which I wrote about long ago. And all this came about because two songwriters didn't bother to hit the fridge to get some cold soda pop.

Anyways, going with the Cole version, what were the big hits in Japan back in 1961?

Kyu Sakamoto -- Ue wo Muite Arukou (上を向いて歩こう)

Yujiro Ishihara & Junko Makimura -- Ginza no Koi no Monogatari （銀座の恋の物語）

Hitoshi Ueki -- Suudara Bushi (スーダラ節）

Akira Kobayashi -- Dynamite ga Hyaku-go-juu Ton（ダイナマイトが百五十屯）

 

Just before dinner tonight, TV Japan was showing the weekly episode of "Songs of Japanese Spirit" from NHK's satellite channel, and it's been a while, but singer-actor Akira Kobayashi（小林旭）appeared in a segment in his tribute. The veteran entertainer just turned 83 a few weeks ago but he's still looking pretty spry and plenty burly.

From www2u.biglobe.ne.jp

Unfortunately, I couldn't find any footage of the above movie, "Nirenjuu no Tetsu"（二連銃の鉄）which has been translated online as "Tetsu's Shotgun" although I think that it sounds cooler literally translated as "Double-Barreled Tetsu". This April 1959 flick starred Kobayashi as Tetsutaro（鉄太郎）, a gun-for-hire who's fresh out of prison when he soon gets involved into another whirlwind of trouble and intrigue.

Anyways, one of the songs that Kobayashi performed on "Songs of Japanese Spirit" was "Dynamite ga Hyaku-go-juu Ton" (150 Tons of Dynamite) which wasn't the theme song for "Nirenjuu no Tetsu" but an insert song. Originally released as Kobayashi's 2nd single in November 1958, it's a pretty swinging kayo sung with plenty of brio by The Might Guy (his nickname) although the high pitch at which he sings out those first few words caught me off-guard. The melody by Toru Funamura（船村徹）is not quite jazz although it does sound jazzy and it's definitely not Mood Kayo but I gather that it is a tune that would be just great at a nightclub where Kobayashi is the featured performer. Shinichi Sekizawa（関沢新一）was the lyricist.

According to the intro given at the start of the video, the announcer states that "Dynamite ga Hyaku-go-juu Ton" may have been the first homegrown rock-n'-roll number to become a hit in Japan, although I'm still not quite sure whether I would consider this as such a tune from the rock genre (unfortunately, that video has been taken down).

Hibari Misora -- Hanagasa Douchuu（花笠道中）/Rockabilly Kenpou（ロカビリー剣法）

 

Today would have been Hibari Misora's（美空ひばり）84th birthday today. This past week's "Uta Con"（うたコン）episode reminded me of today's special day in kayo kyoku history through a brief tribute involving a couple of songs.

In June 1958, Misora's 138th single, "Rockabilly Kenpou" was released but it was the B-side that was performed on last week's "Uta Con", "Hanagasa Douchuu" (Hanagasa Travels). From what I've read, a hanagasa is a conical straw hat that seems to be most famous now for its use in the midsummer Yamagata Hanagasa Festival. I don't know whether it had a specific purpose in ancient times so I can assume that it was basically just headwear to keep the sun off.

The words and music for "Hanagasa Douchuu" were provided by Masao Yoneyama（米山正夫）, and it's a jaunty enka tune delivered with the singer's usual brio to reflect the mix of happiness and loneliness of journeying the byways of Edo Era Japan. Perhaps from the video above, the traveler was probably some sort of ronin as portrayed by Misora herself. 

The A-side, "Rockabilly Kenpou" (Rockabilly Swordsmanship), is indeed an interesting combination of Misora's pugnacious vocals for an enka tune and some happy-go-lucky rockabilly music. Once again, Yoneyama created words and music for this A-side as the singer gets into cocky form describing her finely-honed capabilities with the sword. As she mentions in the song, women can more than hold their own in a fight. Perhaps this is more Bill Haley and the Katanas rather than the Comets.

Hibari Misora -- Edokko Sushi（江戸っ子寿司）

 

Unfortunately, I was given the news that another famous person in Japan succumbed to COVID-19 earlier this morning at the age of 81. He wasn't a comedian or an actor but actually a chef named Toshiro Kandagawa（神田川俊郎）. I hadn't heard from him for years but back in the 1990s when Fuji-TV's original "Ryori no Tetsujin"（料理の鉄人...The Iron Chefs） was captivating viewers within and outside of Japan, Kandagawa was a fairly frequent guest and gadfly who bumped heads and philosophies with the Iron Chefs themselves and even beat them in the Kitchen Stadium.

As I remember him, he was a feisty competitor known for his strict adherence to classic Japanese cooking styles according to his Wikipedia entry, and I was struck by the commentary that he had been seen as the equivalent of the heel in wrestling matches. Still, I'm hoping that much of the boisterous competition that was shown between Kandagawa and Iron Japanese Chef Rokusaburo Michiba（道場六三郎）was kept within the Stadium and that they were friendly in real life. I can only imagine what Kandagawa's feelings about Dragon Rolls and some of that neo sushi must have been, though (I'm perfectly fine with those).

I couldn't find anything on his J-Wikipedia article about anything that he liked in kayo kyoku, but in tribute to him and also to a new friend I made on Discord earlier today who has a liking for enka and Mood Kayo, I decided to find something appropriate. Of course, I'm uncertain whether Kandagawa was a Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）fan, but I have discovered "Edokko Sushi", which, honestly speaking, I only became aware of today.

A 1958 single written by Yaso Saijo（西條八十）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, it's lightly sung in the higher register by Misora as she talks about the joy of making the sushi for the regulars in the restaurant, presumably Tokyo because of that first word in the title: Edokko. According to the Wikipedia entry, Edokko can be defined in two ways:

1) One who was born and raised in Edo/Tokyo to parents who both were also born and raised in Edo/Tokyo. (If one parent was not born and raised in Edo/Tokyo, then the child would not be a true Edokko, and was called madara ["mottled"].)

2) One who was born and raised in Edo/Tokyo to a family lineage spanning back three or four generations in Edo/Tokyo.

In any case, I would like to make certain that Kandagawa was actually born in Kyoto, the other former capital of Japan. My condolences to his family.

Shigeko Orii -- Yoru ga Waratteiru（夜がわらっている）

I mentioned in a previous article that I had caught a 90-minute kayo program last Saturday afternoon. Well, one of the other tunes that I was happy to hear for the first time was "Yoru ga Waretteiru" (The Night is Laughing) and on that show, it was performed by enka singer Yukino Ichikawa（市川由紀乃）.

Originally recorded in 1958 by the late Shigeko Orii（織井茂子）, "Yoru ga Waretteiru" was written by Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and composed by Toru Funamura（船村徹）as a delicate and mournful enka ballad about a romance gone sour. The woman in the lyrics is now trying to drown her sorrows in drink at some watering hole although she admits that she hates the booze but needs it to get rid of the pain.

For Orii, this was another hit song alongside her even bigger blockbuster "Kimi no Na wa"（君の名は）from 1953. "Yoru ga Waretteiru" sold around 900,000 records and it earned the singer her 3rd invitation to the Kohaku Utagassen at the Shinjuku Koma Theatre at the end of 1958. Speaking of Ichikawa, though, here she is (though on a different program) singing the song. It seems that these later performances have taken on an even more enka feeling than the original which kinda mixes the enka and kayo aspects.

Yukari Ito -- Katami no Juujika/Kwai Gawa March（かたみの十字架・クワイ河マーチ）

Beginning this article here with one of my occasional All-Points Bulletin requests. Earlier today, I received a request from someone regarding the above performance by 1960s aidoru Yukari Ito（伊東ゆかり）. Although there has been no mention of it in her J-Wiki biography, she had a bit part as a guest singer in the 1967 comedy-action movie "Five Golden Dragons", and the person wanted to know what she had sung there.

Searching through the Net with her name, the title of the movie and even the first few words of the song, I've ended up with bupkis so far, but I sent over an e-mail to her or whoever is taking care of her website. Perhaps I may be able to get a response but if any of her fans reading this article know, I'd appreciate a contact. It's possible that the song was really only made for that one scene and it has only existed in the movie, but one never knows.

However, all this looking for this Yukari Ito song has gotten me wondering about the singer again. And so I decided to go all the way back to her beginnings through her debut single. Although Ito has sung kayo through a number of genres with hits such as "Koyubi no Omoide"（小指の思い出）, she also covered a lot of songs from across the Pacific early in her career such as the old-fashioned summertime classic "Vacation" originally performed by Connie Francis.

Anyways, as for her first single from June 1958, it unsurprisingly consists of a couple of covers on the A and B sides. On that A-side is "Katami no Juujika" (Keepsake Cross) which is a cover of Pat Boone's "Remember You're Mine" (songwriters Bernie Lowe and Kal Mann) from the previous year. Ito was only 11 years old when she made her first professional foray behind the mike, and though she naturally does sound like a kid, she sounds like a kid with a future in singing. Plus, she sings both English and Japanese lyrics with the latter provided by Takashi Otowa（音羽たかし）, a pseudonym for one of the higher-ups at King Records.

I may have been born several years after the original and the Ito cover had come out but I did hear a lot of these old records at home so the nostalgia factor is quite real with me.

One of the most oldest tunes that I remember from way back was something that was whistled. And it accompanied one of the episodes of "The Flintstones". I knew it as the marching ant song back then since the song was played as a group of relentless ants calmly divested Wilma and Betty (who took the robbery remarkably well) of their picnic feast.

Years later, I would find out that this was the famous marching music from the 1957 movie "Bridge on the River Kwai".

Getting back to Ito's debut single, the B-side happened to be the cover for that march, re-titled in Japanese as "Kwai Gawa March" (March from the River Kwai). This was given Japanese lyrics by Otowa as well, I assume.

In any case, if anyone can let me about that song at the very top, please leave a message.

Otomaru/Chiemi Eri -- Kushimoto Bushi（串本節）

Traditional Japanese folk songs, or min'yo（民謡）, have never been part of my expertise, and I believe Noelle is more of an expert there than I am. However, when I was watching NHK's walking tour show "Buratamori"（ブラタモリ...Strolling With Tamori） last Sunday, tarento emeritus Tamori（タモリ）and his co-host were in Wakayama Prefecture, the home of my ancestors. I noticed that either Tamori or one of the local scholars remarked on a song called "Kushimoto Bushi" (Kushimoto Song) that is very representative of the prefecture.

As I said, min'yo is a genre of Japanese music that I don't know very much about. However, I think part of the raison d'etre for "Kayo Kyoku Plus" is not only introducing people to the songs that I love but also for me to learn more about the songs that I'm unaware of. Moreover, "Buratamori" is one NHK program that I have yet to reference when it comes to music, so this is my opportunity right here and right now.

According to the Wikipedia definition, a lot of min'yo describes life in the workplace. However, it seems with "Kushimoto Bushi", there isn't much of an emphasis on work but more of the idyllic life in the Kushimoto area of Wakayama. I did find a translation of the lyrics at Narkive that you can quickly peruse.

I couldn't find out when "Kushimoto Bushi" had been first written and composed but one rendition of the folk song was recorded in 1949 by the singer Otomaru（音丸）who performed in the Taisho and Showa eras. Otomaru who was born as either Matsuko or Mitsuko Nagai（永井満津子）in 1906. From an early age, she was trained in traditional dancing and a certain style of narrative for kabuki dances. However, when she turned 25, her beloved younger brother passed away and she fell into despair. But she recovered when she discovered the joy of min'yo. Otomaru then made her official debut as a singer in 1934 and then came up with hit songs. Her discography can be separated into regular kayo and min'yo.

Otomaru passed away from heart failure at the age of 69 in 1976.

One thing that I hadn't expected when looking for various renditions of "Kushimoto Bushi" was that there had been a cover version that took on a spicier tone of Latin jazz. This was the version that Chiemi Eri（江利チエミ）recorded back in 1958, and instead of thinking of a traditional dance around a grand elevated stage, I immediately thought hip-swiveling salsa. 

January 11 2021: I've also done a follow-up of Eri's version because of a most unusual rendition.