Noelle's Autumn Playlist (秋のうた)

 

Autumn is finally upon us - if you’re living in the northern hemisphere, that is. Otherwise, happy spring to y’all in the south. Autumn is best season in my opinion. The temperatures are now at habitable levels and a little chilly, and the foliage is starting to turn into vibrant shades of red, orange and gold. There’s also Halloween and the cute and zany ghouly and pumpkiny decor that come with it. Overall, it’s a cozy time.

Going in line with the season, I’ve decided showcase my collection of songs that reflect autumn. To preface, I don't think most of them are directly be about autumn. Rather, some have imagery synonymous with it, and others simply conjure up the cozy feeling I associate with the season. As such, I have labelled the songs accordingly: Spider lilies (manjushage), the moon (o-tsukimi (moon viewing)), autumn foliage (maple leaves, falling leaves), Halloween, jazz-inspired tunes. If you're wondering about the last category, it's just that certain types of of jazz convey autumn in my head. I don't know why, but they just do. 

Anyway, similar to the summer playlist I did in 2024, I won't provide info on the songs and will only list them with short, sometimes unhinged comments, if at all. It's a brain-off piece that'll hopefully get you in the autumn spirit. With that, here's my list of autumn songs.

Spider lilies: Koi no Manjushage (恋の曼珠沙華) -- Akiko Futaba (二葉あき子)

I know autumn is finally on its way when I see stalks of these popping up in the most random of places. I've read that red spider lilies have some sad tales and macabre meanings attached to them, which sort of makes its striking appearance rather intimidating. Still, there is a sort of forlorn beauty to them, which Futaba's wistful number encapsulates. 

The moon: Tsukiyo no Sanpo (月夜の散歩) -- Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴)

If there's one event that marks the start of autumn in Japan, at least, it's o-tsukimi (moon viewing) during mid-autumn on the lunar calendar (around mid-September). While it's meant as a festival to appreciate the moon at its roundest and show appreciation for a bountiful harvest, I only see this as the time of limited edition egg and dango foods at all F&B joints. That aside, if this tune sounds familiar to you, that's probably because this is Nakano's rendition of Side by Side.

Strolling down the avenue, moon shining up above, holding Mr. Nakano's arm... *Ahem* Great song.

Leaves: Tasogare no Hakage ni (たそがれの葉陰に)-- Katsuhiko Haida (灰田勝彦)

Not necessarily relating to autumn foliage, but the warm atmosphere in Haida's bossa nova tune about a rendezvous under the soft shadows of the trees at twilight somehow feels perfect for autumn at golden hour.

Hai-Katsu waiting under a gold ginkgo at golden hour, waiting to hit the town together... *Ahem* Nice song.

Maple leaves: Momiji Oiwake (もみじ追分) -- Duke Aces

Perhaps the image most synonymous with autumn is the maple leaf, and it just so happens that Duke Aces has a song related to it. It's based on Tochigi - I'm not familiar with the prefecture, but I'm guessing it's one known for its maple trees (momiji) and, by extension, its autumn scenery.

Falling leaves: Ochiba Shigure (落葉しぐれ) -- Koichi Miura (三浦洸一)

If you were to ask me for a kayo I'd equate to autumn, my first answer would be Ochiba Shigure at least 80% of the time. It's simply because of the image of falling leaves I get just from its title, literally meaning "Fallen leaf showers" (showers as in rain).

Halloween: Yurei wa Odoru (幽霊は踊る) -- Columbia Rhythm Boys

I feel like you can't talk about autumn without Halloween, so here's a spoopy little ditty from the Columbia Rhythm Boys.

Jazz-inspired tune: Mune no Furiko (胸の振子) -- Noboru Kirishima (霧島昇)

Now we've entered the part of the list where the songs have no autumn imagery, but just feel autumn. Mune no Furiko is hands-down my favourite song by Kiri-san. It's so sweet and warm, and listening to it feels as though you're being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket.

Jazz-inspired tune: Otoko janaika (男じゃないか) -- Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) 

Rounding things off with Hachi. The song in question is the last in the compilation and comes in at the 24:28 mark. If you're like me and you think you're about to hear enka because you saw the title, you'd be wrong. This is a snazzy jazzy number, and it has me imagining a Hachi skipping down an avenue lined with red maples on a clear autumn day without a care in the world.

Columbia Rhythm Boys -- Kappore (かっぽれ)

Kappore! Kappore! Yoito-na!

Some time ago, I mentioned that my eyes were treated to a "Day in the Life at Columbia Records 1937" vlog at the Yuji Koseki (古関裕而) Memorial Hall on a recent trip to Fukushima. Koseki's vlog had a clip of Akira Matsudaira (松平晃) doing some vocal warm-ups, but what really sent me over the moon was live footage of Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴) and his Columbia Rhythm Boys. Up to that point, I'd never seen them move. I'd never seen Mr. Nakano sing. There was no audio, but I died, then quickly resuscitated so that I could watch it again. Three more times... I intended to spend an hour at the museum, but spent almost two.

Returning to reality (and home base), I contemplated about how Koseki sensei's footage may have been the only moving pictures of Mr. Nakano and the Jazzy Bois I will get to see, and that was a bit sad. Then I decided to watch a movie I'd saved some time ago: "Junjou no Nijuusou" (純情二重奏) from August 1939 (video below... no English subs, unfortunately). I saved that movie because I knew that Akira-san had a minor role in it and was curious to see his acting chops. When the beginning credits rolled, the bit of sad from earlier fizzled out when the name "Nakano Tadaharu" appeared along side a roster of Columbia Records artists, including the Rhythm Boys. Nakano quite literally appeared for 20 seconds and muttered a "Sumimasen ne." I wanted to hear and see more of him, but other singers like Ms. Columbia had zero lines and simply showed up for a scene or two, so I am grateful with my 20 seconds of Nakano. Besides, he reappeared in the final scene with everyone else for the main character’s (played by movie star Mieko Takamine (高峰三枝子)) final send off. 

Mr. Nakano: 8:25; Rhythm Boys: 18:55;

Rhythm Boys vs Cha-san: 20:26; final send-off: 1:09:33

The ones who actually got a decent amount of screen time were the Rhythm Boys, appearing in multiple scenes and even getting to showcase their musical chops. This, at long last, allowed me to place faces to the voices, albeit just the group's 3rd generation members. The Rhythm Boys’ members shuffled over the years since they formed in 1934, but the composition in "Junjou Nijuusou" was the 3rd gen bunch. This line-up comprised of  tenors Hideo Akiyama (秋山日出夫) and Reisuke Harada (原田礼輔), baritone Dairyo Momose (百瀬大了) a.k.a. Bin Takakura, and bass Eiichi Hagihara (荻原栄一). Exactly when this 3rd generation Rhythm Boys was formed, I'm not sure, but based on the info I have at the moment, it was at least after February 1939, when Momose was recruited. This should be the same crew who did "Yurei wa Odoru" (幽霊は踊る) and "Tarinai Song" (タリナイ・ソング) 

Anyways, as you can see in the movie above, the Jazzy Bois played a rival enka-shi/nagashi gang to Hisao Ito’s (伊藤久男) minor street musician character. Side character antagonists had never been this adorable. The group made their first appearance on screen at a cafe entertaining guests, snazzily-dressed in coordinated suits and newsboy caps. Ordinarily, it takes me some amount of trial and error to figure out a song sung in passing in movies like this, but I didn't need to this time. I think it's safe to say that the song where the guys go "Kappore! Kappore! Kappore! Kappore!" would be called "Kappore." Okay, to be fair, it was also because I saw a song titled "Kappore" in the Nakano-Rhythm Boys compilations, so I just put two and two together.

The "Kappore" was originally quite a well-known celebratory zokuyo (folk/pop song) from the late Edo-era (early 1800s) that was used in conjunction with the Hounen Odori (Bountiful Harvest Dance) or Sumiyoshi Odori (Sumiyoshi Dance) as a form of street entertainment by street performer priests. The titular term apparently originated from a phrase in the "Toba Bushi" minyo from the Kii region (the Wakayama and some of Mie prefectures), which goes "Watasha omae ni okapporeta" (I'm head over heels with / have a crush on you). Looking at the words for our song in question, though, I don't think it has anything to do with romance. Coming into the Meiji era, "Kappore" and its dance turned into a side show incorporated into kabuki, yoseseki entertainment (traditional arts like rakugo, manzai, etc.), geisha parties, or dinner gatherings. This was where its popularity took off. I got this information from kotobank.jp and its various definitions. You can check it out here.

The popularity of the "Kappore" meant that many singers had their own versions of it. Many of these renditions were by geisha-turned-singers like Ichimaru (市丸), Kimie Nihonbashi (日本橋きみ栄), and the first of their kind, Fumikichi Fujimoto (藤本二三吉). I've put Fujimoto's version above. The shamisen-filled music and the reedy voices of these uguisu geisha are perhaps what one would expect from an old-style Japanese folk tune. But not so much when you put the ditty into the hands of the composer with a penchant for jazz and give it to the prewar jazz chorus group.

While we got an acapella teaser in “Junjou Nijuusou”, The Rhythm Boys officially released their funky version of "Kappore" a few months later in November 1939. Managing the zokuyo's arrangement and lyrics was Ryoichi Hattori (服部良一). From the get go, the full orchestra with horns blasting and thumping percussions and the Jazzy Bois spiritedly chanting, "Kappore!" cranks up the original zokuyo's celebratory vibe by a few notches. What made it particularly Western or “jazz” on the music-front were the smooth notes of the tenor sax piping in ever so often and the group's signature barbershop quartet style of delivery with Akiyama in the lead. Despite that, "Kappore" still maintained some semblance of the traditional Japanese flavour from its source material, I feel. This fun piece of east-meets-west still makes you want to dance, but you'll probably end up doing the Swing in the midst of an odori. 

The words the Hattori fitted into "Kappore" were part of the oft sung original, pointing to the tale of the Kii region's local hero, the sea-faring businessman Kinokuniya Bunzaemon (紀伊国屋文左衛門... Bunza, for short) and his mandarin ship. The video above features Houkan entertainer (an entertainer who performs for dinner parties/gatherings) Hachiko Matsunoya (松廼家八好) doing the Kappore dance, and he gives a brief rundown of the zokuyo's meaning beforehand. 

I could not fully catch all that he said, but there is apparently the Fuigo festival celebrated by blacksmiths where it was tradition to fling mandarin oranges. One year during the Edo era, the mandarins to be used had gone bad, but there was a bumper crop in the Kii region, and so enterprising folks wanted to ferry the mandarins where they are wanted, one of them being Bunza. However, as dear Haruo Minami's (三波春夫) kayo-rokyoku on Bunza and the Heike Story has taught me anything, is that the waters around the Kii region are terribly rough and shipwrecks were the norm. This was the unfortunate case for those mandarin-carrying ships, save for one: Bunza's small vessel. Thus, Bunza became uber rich and celebrated for the feat. That seems to be the main idea for "Kappore," and it was this bit that Hattori kept for the Rhythm Boys' version.

Y'know, because the Rhythm Boys' snazzy take of "Kappore" was the first time I heard the zokuyo as a whole, I can only associate the "Kappore" to them now. Also, speaking of Haru-san, I've been listening to his kayo-rokyoku version of Bunza's tale "Gosho Ichidai Kinokuniya Bunzaemon" (豪商一代紀伊国屋文左衛門) for years. But it took me that many years and the Jazzy Bois' introduction to "Kappore" to finally realise that Minami had added the zokuyo at the very end of his epic... You learn something new everyday.

Columbia Rhythm Boys -- Tarinai Song (タリナイ・ソング)

Sa-sa, minna-san, kiite kudasai, Tarinai Song da!

You know it's gonna be a banger when the first piece of information you get from the song was that it was banned.

Imagine: Japan has been at war for three years (officially, at least). Resources are stretched thinner than before; whatever that could be scraped together was sent overseas for the soldiers stationed abroad. This is stacked on top of the worsening economic situation and poor harvests.

Tarinai tarinai okome ga tarinai (Ain’t enough, ain’t enough, ain’t enough rice!)

Poverty’s stranglehold has never been tighter, morale has never been lower, and the patience is wearing thin over the war that's been dragging out for way longer than it should. Yet, the government calls for greater austerity and condemning any smidgen of decadence, from painting your nails to "overly" sentimental songs.

Nante iu yatsu genki ga tarinai (Get a load of this guy! You just ain't got enough pluck!)

And then, you have "Tarinai Song" (The Not Enough Song) recorded by the Columbia Rhythm Boys and set for release. It was September 1940. Jazz and blues aficionado Ryoichi Hattori (服部良一) had come up with a catchy, rumba-inspired number to accompany the bold words by lead tenor Hideo Akiyama (秋山日出夫) and the rest of the quartet. As with all songs at the time, it was sent in to the record censors for vetting. 

Mattaku tarinai tarinai tarinai tarinai tarinai yo-- (Absolutely ain't enough! Ain't enough! x4)

Banned.

In R. Hatter's biography, the purpose of this silly ditty was to encourage the masses to keep their heads up and continue to give their all to the nation during this strict State of Emergency and trying time of severe lack.  So, technically, in line with what the government and censors want. I appreciate the thought, bois, and I see where you're coming from, but y'all flew too close to the sun with this one, as hilarious as the song is. Basically, "Tarinai Song" had the Rhythm Boys complaining about the lack of something, be it rice, money, the concern for the state of emergency, or the affection of the young lady working the cigarette stand. And for every concern, there'll be a retort like, "You ain't working enough! (That's why you got no money!)" The humour is on-brand, but plainly read, "Tarinai Song" is so on the nose in highlighting the lack the war is causing and kicking down the Imperial government's façade that all's fine on the resource front. With it being too accurate and honest a picture of pre-Pacific War Japan, I'm surprised they thought it'd survive inspection. 

As you may have noticed, the word “tarinai” (meaning a lack of/not enough) in the title is presented in katakana like so タリナイ, and was mostly written as such in the lyrics rather than in kanji where it may have looked like this 足りない. Since the advent of the 2nd Sino-Japanese War in late 1937 brought about a tighter grip on media censorship, I reckon that the Rhythm Boys and dear Hattori sensei were trying to skirt the system by making the word less obvious. Kinda like how YouTubers skirt the platform's auto-censorship by replacing letters with funky characters or numbers. But with the lyrics' meaning clear as day and with how our four jazzy bois were pretty much howling out their dissatisfaction at the state of things, “Tarinai Song” may as well had a “Ban me!” (禁止頂戴) sticker pasted over it in big, bold, red words. And so the censors gladly obliged. 

(Noelle from 25/1/24: I relooked at the original lyric card during a trip to the NDL today; record event organizer Tadaaki Kitakawa (北河忠昭) had also kindly shared the image on Twitter. Unlike the "Ketteiban..." album's liner notes that mostly used タリナイ, the original lyrics actually predominantly used 足りない,while タリナイ was used in reference to the song's name. So much for skirting the system. It's as if our bois just dumped a thimble of water on their heads and straight-up walked into the fire. I know record censorship was known to be comparatively sloppy, but I'm impressed "Tarinai Song" got as far as having its lyric card published in the official Columbia Records monthly entertainment magazines. Way to go, fellas. Then again, I suppose Hattori's rationale was strong enough to convince the record company to green light it.)

Despite the fate of "Tarinai Song," Hiroyuki Kondo (近藤博之), who'd written a full-on thesis on Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴) and contributed information and commentary to the liner notes of his centenary album "Ketteiban Nakano Tadaharu to Columbia Nakano Rhythm Boys" (決定版中野忠晴とコロムビア・ナカノ・リズム・ボーイズ), wrote in the latter that by a stroke of luck, the original recording was found after the war. This was how "Tarinai Song" managed to make a comeback, the former appearing in Mr. Nakano compilations in recent years like this centenary one. I'm so glad it did because it's fantastic. Likely within my Top 10 Hattori Melody - maybe I should make that list.

Speaking of Mr. Nakano, "Tarinai Song" was just recorded by the Rhythm Boys themselves without him, which may explain the lack of a "Nakano" in the quartet's name for this tune. The quartet did their own activities without the lead vocalist from time to time. Still, the group with or without Mr. Nakano didn’t seem like particular strangers to potentially controversial yet humourous songs chock full of social critique. Just a few years prior, they did a cover of “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf” titled “Fukeiki Nanka?” (不景気なんか？... Is there, like, a recession?), but the titular wolf was economic recession and the three little pigs were three wretched university graduates who couldn’t seem to find employment despite their qualifications… Good thing times have changed and songs like "Fukeiki Nanka?" and "Tarinai Song" aren't that relevant, right, guys? *Puts on clown wig and make-up* Right, guys?

*Information on the state of Japanese society before the Pacific War mainly came from my understanding of "Grassroots Fascism" (Yoshiaki Yoshimi), and the prewar-wartime record censorship came from "Tokyo Boogie-Woogie" (Hiromu Nagahara).

P.S. Sometime last week, I was at the National Diet Library doing my usual resource dredging, and while looking through the archives of prewar Columbia Records' monthly music almanacs, I came across the promotional pamphlet for "Tarinai Song." It had the cheeky faces of the Rhythm Boys next to the song lyrics. The guys speed-ran record bans and I'm impressed it managed to get that far before getting the axe... Why was I looking through Columbia Records' prewar archives when Hachi was from postwar King Records? Well, I'd been studying Hachi's and King's resources beforehand. And - I mean - Columbia was one of the modern Japanese music industry's old guard. *Sweats nervously* It's good to know more about kayo history, y'know. I certainly wasn't looking for snaps of a certain singer from that company from that period of time whose initials are N.T. ( ºωº; )

P.S.S. Speaking of Hattori, I've recently gone to another record appreciation event featuring the Father of J-Pop organized by the same fellas who brought Ichiro Fujiyama and Roppa Furukawa to life last year. It's split into 2 parts with the 2nd half in early February. I'll be sure to do a reflection piece after that. Apparently, Part II is gonna feature Hattori's hit ryukoka. I love me some Hattori Melody, so I'm looking forward to it.

Columbia Nakano Rhythm Boys -- Yurei wa Odoru (幽霊は踊る)

The sun has set and darkness falls

When not even a plant stirs in the deep of the night

Out come the ghosts, bitter and anguished

Spooky.

Personally, I'm one of those folks who's terrified of the paranormal but with a curiosity for the macarbe. Unfortunately, it traps me in the loop of regret over listening to that one scary story that was a little too creepy, then immediately moving on to the next one. It was with this curiosity that "Yurei wa Odoru" (Ghosts dance)  caught my eye when I was checking out some of Tadaharu Nakano's (中野忠晴) prewar works. Thankfully, rather than something that would keep me up at night, he and the rest of the Colombia Nakano Rhythm Boys had me grooving to and chuckling at the silly yet morbid jazzy ditty.

 

I'd actually wanted to save "Yurei wa Odoru" for Halloween season, but I thought now would be just as good a time for a *insert wavy effects* spooky tune. Obon may be over, but its Chinese counterpart, the Hungry Ghost Festival a.k.a. Zhongyuan Festival a.k.a. The Seventh Month (of the lunar calendar), only just began last week, so it's rather fitting. 

If only there was a version with the Nakano Rhythm Boys as ghosties doing the Swing.

The best way I can describe "Yurei wa Odoru" is that it's essentially the Japanese version of the "Spooky Scary Skeletons" song with a theatrical touch featuring ghosts and a nod at Buddhist afterlife beliefs. It begins on a dark and ominous tone with crashing gongs and tolling bells, sounding more like it's your time on earth that has ended rather than announcing the arrival of the dead. But the moment the fellas start cackling like a bunch of mischievous poltergeists, the mood takes a complete U-turn. This is where the Nakano Rhythm Boys give us a quick rundown of what to expect in the Buddhist hells and ask fundamental questions like, "Why aren't ghosts fat?" (Doushite yurei nya futoranai?) to a playful tune with some sinister undercurrents. Never has such a line been more apt for the Hungry Ghost Festival. I'm not of the Buddhist faith so I'm not sure of the details, but, like Obon, this is the period where those who have left us will come back for a visit, and family and believers will provide offerings of food and other random items (iPhones, anyone?) for the visitors. I think this is also the one time they get to actually "eat." So, even though Nakano and the Bois cite the lack of food in hell for the reason ghosts aren't packing on the pounds, fret not, they can finally get their sustenance and hopefully be less salty. (Noelle from 18/12/2023: Just a little mistake on my part, but I found out that this tune was sung by just the Rhythm Boys themselves without Mr. Nakano. So, the one on lead vocals was most likely Rhythm Boys' leader Akiyama.)

"Yurei wa Odoru" was created by Hideo Akiyama (秋山日出夫) in 1939. Akiyama was the tenor in the Colombia Nakano Rhythm Boys, together with fellow tenor Reisuke Harada (原田礼輔), baritone Shinichi Tezuka (手塚慎一), and bass Matsuzo Yamakami (山上松蔵). Members came and went, but these were the main bunch. This was actually a replacement for the original Colombia Rhythm Boys, Colombia Record Japan's answer to American jazz quartet, The Mills Brothers, as they had moved to Polydor Records. And so, a replacement was needed, thus came the Colombia Nakano Rhythm Boys in 1935. So, how does Nakano fit into this? From what I gather from the J-Wiki and the record company's group introduction, Nakano, enamored with American jazz, was behind the move to form a jazz quartet in the first place, and he frequently collaborated with the original Rhythm Boys until their move. So, in the formation of the second group, the quartet was rebranded as the Colombia Nakano Rhythm Boys, and continued mainly performing as Nakano's backup. Later in 1936, a female jazz quartet, the Colombia Nakano Rhythm Sisters, was also created.

On an ending note, about the Hungry Ghost Festival: In Singapore at least, there are these open-air, free-to-watch concerts called getai (song stage) that are held all over the country during this period. Singers dressed in glitzy and gaudy outfits (very enka, when I think about it) perform Chinese hit songs and may do some comedy sets for a mostly alive audience. Yes, mostly. These performances are meant for the visiting dead, which is why the first row of seats are always empty. The video above will give you an idea of what this annual phenomenon is like through the eyes of a pair of getai performers. Seeing as to how lively the shows can get, the folks must be having the time of their lives jiving to the tunes - literally Yurei wa odoru :).