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.
Just out of whimsical curiosity, I wondered about what the first Mood Kayo（ムード歌謡）to appear in Japanese music history was. With all of the mournful backing choruses, bars and broken romances, who was the first singer or band to provide the city cousin of enka?
Reading up on the history of Mood Kayo on J-Wiki, I learned that the roots may have been planted by jazz singer and old-time kayo crooner Dick Mine（ディックミネ）. A couple of songs attributed to him as the origins of the bar-focused genre are "Yogiri no Blues" (夜霧のブルース) in 1947, and this particular song released in October 1954, "Ame no Sakaba de" (At a Rainy Bar).
The fact that it has that mournful melody by Namiryu Hirakawa（平川浪竜）and it takes place in a drinking establishment certainly fulfills that Mood Kayo definition. Minoru Shimizu's（清水みのる）lyrics seem to have either a buddy helping out another guy who's literally drowning his tears in drink or a soon-to-be ex-paramour telling his inconsolable mistress to stop drinking and head home to face the inevitable. Not exactly the happiest of scenarios but perhaps it and "Yogiri no Blues" did start up a new genre in Japanese music.
Over here in Japan, along with the blooming of sakura trees comes graduation season for schools of all levels. Going around town in the month of March, you might enter a sea of strapping suits, brilliant furisode kimonos and anything in between. You may also need to dodge young folks posing in front of random objects, a thick folder containing their prized graduation certificate in hand. The radiating jubilation adds to the semi-festive mood brought on by the hanami season which arrived earlier than usual this year. The earliest it's been, in fact. And yet the trees at my school were noticeably bald when I was part of the aforementioned sea of folk. The lack of pinkish-white petals did nothing to dampen the mood, however, as I completed this important milestone together with wonderful people.
I'm one to mark any occasion with a song or two (or more), so my undergraduate adventures in Saitama are no exception. I had a few months after my last day of school till graduation to mull over it and eventually settled on 6 songs I found significant to my 4-year journey and its conclusion. Some of them I had actually considered for this very event years in advance! As I do, I've decided to put them into a list on KKP and I hope you'll enjoy them. I will also put the lyrics that resonated with me the most from each song and add a little anecdote on why they made the list.
Nemutta machi no sono ue ni(Above the slumbering streets)
Konya no hikaru hitotsu boshi (A star shines tonight)
Oira mo hitori naku monka(I ain't going to cry alone)
Kanashii koto mo ureshii koto mo(In sadness or in happiness)
Ano hoshi to katarou (Let's talk to that star)
It may be strange to say this, but experiencing for the first time the oft-sung-about anguish and longing for home (bokyo) so prevalent in enka was fascinating. Yet, as you'd expect, it was also awful. On a stroll in the quiet countryside one rainy night during the early days I had Hachi's songs in my ears, including the funky "Ano Hoshi to Katarou". Seeing some stars twinkling in the partially cloudy sky, the song never felt so apt. With the thought that someone somewhere out there was watching over me, I was able to rally myself for the long haul.
Shiranai minato de shiriouta (Introduced at an unknown port)
Minna sabishii nagare bana (We're all lonely drifting flowers)
Koyoi mo koko ni tsuki wo mite(Tonight, we'll gaze at the moon again from here)
Ashita ha doko no kishi de saku (Tomorrow, at which shore will we bloom?)
There may be three people, but there is only one brain cell. I would like to think that it belongs to me. So goes the dynamic I have with two friends (Lad A and Lad B) I've had since my first year. We came from vastly different backgrounds and got to know each other in a foreign land, yet they became like my brothers - annoying me, enabling me (and my obsessions), and supporting me. Our paths were set to diverge after graduation, but I believe that we will revert to monke when we get to meet again.
I picked Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan's rendition of "Namida no Sannin Tabi" as I had the chance to enjoy it with the fellas after they insisted we stay for the band's performance one rainy evening last year.
"Dude, I don't know if I'm high but isn't that just your Husbando 1?"
- Lad B upon seeing Hai-Katsu's bromide
Resolve:Ume to Heitai (梅と兵隊) -- Yoshio Tabata
Osu!
Kakugo wo kimeta waga mi demo (I'd made my resolution)
Ume ga ka musebu haru no yo wa(On a night filled with the aroma of plum blossoms)
Ikusa wasurete hito toki wo (Forget the battle for a second)
Katareba tomo yo yukai janaika (Let's chat, buddy. It'll make things better.)
When I came to Japan to study, I had the resolve to do the best I could to honour my own effort in getting into a university in a place I desired and my parents for supporting my decision. A mantra my late grandpa had was also something along the line of, "If you want it, you'll do anything for it." And so, I did. To say it was tough was an understatement, and the last semester had me on the ropes when I piled on graduate school applications on top of a thesis - the enka theme was a life-saver, but geez, no amount of Hibari, Batayan and Muchi (a few of my subjects) could help up to a certain point. Mind you, the thesis was optional and I only did it for me. Despite the madness, pushing through with friends and loved ones along the way made the fight easier. And when the plum blossoms bloomed earlier this year, I crossed the finish line.
"I don't even know why I'm putting myself through this."
Youth: Kirameku no Seiza (燦めく星座) -- Katsuhiko Haida
Naze ni nagare kuru atsui namida yara (Why are there hot tears flowing?)
Kore ga wakasa to iu mono sa tanoshi janaika(This is what youth is all about. Isn't it wonderful?)
Tsuyoi hitai ni hoshi no iro utsushite ikou yo (Let's push forth with a strong forehead shining like the stars)
Having to accept rejection from one of the graduate schools I'd been aiming for was indescribably painful despite the work I put into it and I'd be lying if I said that tears weren't involved. Then "Kirameku Seiza" resurfaced in my music playlist. Introduced by my karaoke Brojiisan some years back, I occasionally gave this pleasant tune by Hai-Katsu a listen, but it was only at this point did I feel the gravity of its words. Facing setbacks and shedding tears are but the joys of youth - it's not the end of the world and there are always other paths, so push on. And so I did.
"Ojiisan no okage de, takusan ii uta wo shi(rimashita). Sono naka de, ichiban suki na no ha 'Kirameku Seiza' to ka 'Onna no Kaikyu' deshou."
Rain:Nagasaki Elegy (長崎エレジー) -- Dick Mine
Kino wo futta ha konokaame(Yesterday fell a light drizzle)
Kyou ha namida no ame ga furu(Today falls my tears)
This one was a bit of a late addition which I added around the time I wrote my article on my favourite ryukoka from the 1930s and 40s. It made the cut because of those two lines highlighted above.
It was a day before the results of successful applicants for another graduate school I'd applied to would be released. It was another I'd been gunning for but the stakes were so much higher - if I got rejected, I'd have little choice but to pack up and leave. It would also have meant that my hardcore push for good grades and creating research proposals would've been for nought. I'd been moping over that very possibility for weeks (in addition to the prior rejection) as I was certain I'd screwed up the interview in the application's second round. The constant rain that day and the forecast of clear skies the next day made the above lines from "Nagasaki Elegy" feel like a bad omen, yet I had it on repeat throughout.
As foretold, the sun finally came out the next day, yet it really did rain. But it was the best rain that had ever fallen. :') I had never rushed down to the karaoke back in Kasumigaseki so quickly until then, and the smile on my Brojiisan's face was as bright as the sun.
"I could just die of relief - I may need an actual ICU :')."
Koishi kokyo wo ato ni shite (Leaving behind my beloved hometown)
Edo de migaita iki to waza (To sharpen my skills and spirit in Edo)
Au mo ureshiya futa oya ni (I'll be happy just to see my parents again)
Ume no hana saku sato no haru (When the plum blossoms bloom in the spring of home)
Ever since I learned the meaning of 'Hare sugata' and read the highlighted stanza, I knew that this tune by Bin-san had to be my graduation day song. I had, indeed, left my hometown for the Greater Tokyo area in the pursuit of academia and personal growth. I did miss family dearly, but I was determined to make myself into something I would deem worthy to show them at the end of it. There's still so much for me to learn, but I'm glad to say that I was satisfied with what I was able to show my parents when they came for my graduation.
It also felt wonderful to say, "Ojiisan, sotsugyoushimashita yo!" (I graduated, gramps!) with grad cert in hand to my Brojiisan, who actually showed up outside my school's front gate as promised. He'd been constantly nagging me to focus on my studies and not be caught up in enka and my ever-growing list of Husbandos. Yet, despite that stoic and grumpy front, he was always there to provide moral support and watched me go through it - from angsting over critical professors to worrying about my future. Many of the songs I know and love now can be attributed to him. He really made my time in Kasumigaseki so much better. I'd written and read out a letter to him on the day itself to express my gratitude and, by golly, that was so hard to get through! While I may not be in that neck of the woods anymore, I'll definitely drop by when I can for regular updates. I'm sure he and the karaoke folk would appreciate that.
That marks the end of this eventful chapter of my life and a new one will begin in a matter of days. I'm terrified but also kind of excited to see where it'll take me. The intention is to continue my research on enka and ryukoka - whether that will be successful or not, I don't know, and I don't know if I've gone in over my head. But I guess I can only wait and see. One thing's for sure, though, there'll surely be songs to mark significant events in the years to come and I'll continue to note them down here on KKP. :)
P.S. Some of these 6 anecdotes do indirectly explain how my Husbando list expanded to 4.5. Yes, there is a 0.5 and I'll allow you to figure out who he is."[N]ever really got past my top 5 and into Husbando territory" - c'mon, Noelle, we know that's a lie. He's definitely already No.5 and you know it.
Lately, I've been in one of my early ryukoka phases. It's when I predominantly listen to songs from the 1930s to the early 1950s or so. It's most certainly because of the influence of Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan (東京大衆歌謡楽団) and taking Bin Uehara (上原敏) as my newest muse. But it's also due in part to my reignited love for Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫) and a burgeoning interest in Katsuhiko Haida (灰田勝彦), both of whom have recently provided much-needed pick-me-ups as I figure out how to move on after graduating from university. And, of course, there are the covers by Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) and stuff I learned from the karaoke. My once tiny collection of ryukoka has expanded greatly and I picked up many more favourites along the way from a myriad of artists. So, I'd like to share some of them with you guys in this instalment of "Favourite" Author's Picks.
Looking through my past Author's Picks writings, I realised that I had done a post on my favourite songs from the 1930s and 1940s in 2017 (geez, I actually forgot). Looking at my own selection, some of those picks actually withstood the test of time and I still love them to this day. Some of those artists will also reappear here, albeit with different titles to their names. Care to take a gander at who they may be? :) This entry is sort of a successor to my previous one and the rule of one song per singer for fairness' sake will be kept. The lyrics most resonant with me will also be noted.
Just a couple of disclaimers before we begin:
1. There are some songs that were originally duets where I only listed one singer. I did this because I prefer listening to their solo versions.
2. I tried putting in some translations for my favourite lyrics. Take them with a pinch of salt - my Japanese skills are (still) paltry.
Mamori toshite kita ore da (I’ve been protecting you with all my life)
Hatoba katagi wo shiranai ka (Don't you know that's the spirit of the wharf?)
Now, we can't have a prewar song list without Husbando 3, right? For some reason, I became enamoured by the clear and gentle vocals of this star from the 1930s who (low-key) looked like a studious accountant, getting hooked on his many samurai/ronin and sailor-themed discography. I've come to like a good number of those songs and it was hard to pick justthe one. But, I think that accolade should go to "Hatoba Katagi" (波止場気質), my introductory song to all things Bin-san which I first heard as a cover by Hachi (well, well). I always found myself going back to this ditty about a sailor having to send off his beloved at the docks, loving both the jaunty melody and Bin-san's tender and forlorn vocals.
Guchi janakeredo yo ga yo de areba (Not to complain, but it is what it is)
Tono no maneki no tsukimi zake (Having drinks admiring moon at a lord's invite)
Otoko Hirate to motehayasarete (Praised as the man, Hirate)
Ima ja ima ja ukiyo no sandogasa(But now, now he's just a wanderer in the floating world)
If you guessed Tabata as one who'd reappear, you're absolutely right. Batayan's been a constant favourite for as long as I can remember, his cool dude energy being a such joy to watch and hearing the brassy twang of his trusty guitar gives me goosebumps. He was also pretty cute. But, for personal reasons, he never really got past my top 5 and into Husbando territory. (Noelle from 18/4/23: Yeah, that statement didn't age well.)
Last time, I picked "Genkai Blues" (玄海ブルース), but I am fairly certain that it was a toss-up between that and "Otone Tsukiyo" (大利根月夜). The same thing happened this time, but the latter came out on top instead. "Otone Tsukiyo" was my introduction to the exuberant singer and one of the first of many ronin-themed tunes I would come to like. Its grand sound really gives the disgraced samurai figure of Miki Hirate such a heroic edge, and I can't get enough of those amazing guitar solos - twice in just this one! Speaking of Batayan and his guitar, he seemed to have been so particular about it that he would insist on having its amplifier be placed where he could "see its sound or it won't do." Batayan, you're literally the "I can hear colours" meme, and that's why I love you.
Kage e no shibai ka gameran mo tanoshiya (A shadow puppet show? The gamelan's great too!)
Aa Jawa no mango uri (Ah, the Java mango seller)
Among the veterans on this list, Haida was the one I least expected to show up here. And yet, here he is with his ukulele and flower lei thanks to "Jawa no Mango Uri" (ジャワのマンゴ売り). Perhaps it's because of the exotic and sultry sound. Perhaps I just like it when Haida sings "gamelan" and "mango" in that strange yet silky crooning of his, but I ended up taking to "Jawa no Mango Uri" way more than I had expected. How has he already propelled up to Batayan's level from absolutely nowhere in my books??
Charumera mo kiete yuku (The charamela has disappeared)
Tooi akai hi aoi hi mo (So have the faraway red and blue lights)
Kuniang no maegami no(The young lady's bangs)
Yarusenakunaku yo wa fukeru(The night deepens without any sorrows)
From the island of Java, we go north to China. I never knew how much I liked China-themed songs until the Asakusa Bois came along. It's kind of kitschy, but also somewhat familiar. "China Tango", originally by Nakano, is one of them with its snappy tango melody and romantically sweet lyrics that paint a dreamy image of a Chinese port town at nightfall. Be it Kotaro or Nakano, the way they belt out the chorus never fails to impress me. Needless to say, this is one of the songs I look forward to the most when I watch the Takashima Brothers and gang. It doesn't appear on their setlists often, but I've been lucky to catch it in the times I've seen them in person and it never fails to brighten my day.
Haruo Oka -- Shanghai no Hanauri Musume (1938)
Hoshi mo kokyu mo kohaku no sake mo (The stars, the kokyu, and the amber sake)
Yume no Shanghai hanauri musume (The flower-selling girl of the dreamy Shanghai)
Speaking of China-themed tunes and song introductions via the Takashima Brothers, we head to metropolitan Shanghai with "Shanghai no Hanauri Musume"(上海の花売娘). Like Batayan, Okapparu makes his appearance here as well, this time with an entry from his well-regarded "Hanauri Musume series" (Flower selling girl series), the very first one, in fact. A bright and joyful number, Okapparu relates the scene of a flower seller at the docks of Shanghai in his clear and chirpy style.
Dick Mine -- Nagasaki Elegy (1947)
Kino futta wa konuka ame (Yesterday's rain was a light drizzle)
Kyo wa namida no ame ga furu(Today's rain is my tears)
Yume no Nagasaki ai yoru tama wo (In the dreamy Nagasaki, our spirits as one)
Musube yogiri no abe Maria (Wrapped in the night fog, Ave Maria)
Welcome back to Japan, specifically to Nagasaki, with yet another recurring artist. I'd say Mine's"Nagasaki Elegy" (長崎エレジー) is a strong contender for my favourite Nagasaki-themed song, and I think my recent trip to the prefecture only amplified that. The swelling strings, upbeat tempo, and earnest vocals of whoever takes it on give "Nagasaki Elegy" this mix of sadness and hopefulness that I can't get enough of. Mine's rendition is great, but I do love Hachi's and Batayan's versions as well.
Akiko Kikuchi -- Hoshi no Nagare ni (1947)
Uete imagoro imouto wa doko ni (I wonder where my starving sister is now)
Hito me aitai okaasan (Just once, I want to see my mother again)
This one brings back so many bittersweet memories of my first year at university - what a ride it was. Kikuchi's jazzy tune is so visceral in its depiction of anguish, reaching its tipping point at each chorus. An apt representation of the immediate postwar period, but emotions do transcend time. While my troubles are nowhere near as harsh as what "Hoshi no Nagare ni" (星の流れに) implies, just the feelings conveyed through Kikuchi's sorrowful delivery with an element of resignation really hit hard at times. But it's exactly that which brings me back to it. Plus, I do love a good jazz-inspired song.
Minoru Obata -- Onna Keizu no Uta (Yushima no Shiraume) (1942)
Shiruya shiraume tamagaki ni (Don't you know, white plum blossoms, on the shrine fences)
Nokoru futari no kageboshi (Remains their silhouette)
If I were to use a single word to describe "Yushima no Shiraume" (湯島の白梅), I'd say "beautiful". The elegant and dramatic strings and horns, Obata's genteel and deliberate crooning, and the image of blooming plum blossoms in early spring. Yet, it's the stage for a romantic tragedy between the geisha Otsuta and her lover Chikara from the book-turned-film, "Onna Keizu" (婦系図). Still, there's no better time to listen to this than now as the plum blossoms bloom.
Shigeo Kusunoki -- Onna no Kaikyu(1935)
Kokoro kudakedo mamanaranu (A broken heart is beyond my control)
Tsurai ukiyo no sayoarashi (The painful floating world's night gale)
I feel like "Onna no Kaikyu" (女の階級) is one of those songs that is simultaneously popular and unknown. It doesn't make much sense, but that's my impression based on my contradicting experience with it. Veteran Kusunoki was the original artist, but I see more covers of this track by enka singers through the ages than his original on YouTube. Yet, when I'm at the karaoke, the oldies aren't too familiar with it. Nevertheless, I somehow got hooked on this spunky Koga Melody. It's likely because the orchestra goes on full blast at a frenetic speed in the original, and simply because I like hearing the likes of Hachi doing incredible vocal gymnastics to pull it off in the covers.
And that, folks, has been an updated take on some of my favourite songs from the immediate pre and postwar eras. As I previously mentioned ages ago, somehow, these songs have incredible staying power in my head. But, I suppose that's why they're still being enjoyed more than seven decades later.
Man, 2017 Noelle wouldn't have believed this list if I showed it to her. I can imagine: "Batayan, yeah, but who's... Bin? And the baseball guy? rEalLy??"
I ended off my previous list with madorosu Batayan, so I shall do the same here.
I'd never been to Kyushu before, let alone Nagasaki. So, last December, my mom and I decided to use the opportunity to explore this culturally and historically rich part of Kyushu. Much of what I know about Nagasaki comes from a combination of enka/ryukoka/mood kayo, travel shows, and classes on Japanese history. Because it was the main (at times the only) port of entry into Japan for foreigners back in the day, traces of Chinese and Western influences are particularly strong. Case in point, a Chinatown and Holland Land (Huis Ten Bosch) in just one prefecture. It was where Christianity thrived, but was also the site where its persecution was particularly intense during the Edo era. It is one of the most featured locations in enka and mood kayo. It is where Kiyoshi Maekawa (前川清) is from! Needless to say, I was stoked to visit such an iconic place.
We were in Nagasaki city for about four days and I thoroughly enjoyed my time there. The food was mostly great, the city picturesque with Chinese and western colonial architecture, and it had a rather quaint atmosphere. Oddly enough, the cultural mix and hilly terrain reminded me of Hong Kong and just a hint of Singapore. I would like to share some highlights through the Nagasaki-themed songs I filled my ears with throughout the trip. Nagasaki songs, particularly those from the early Showa era, seemed to have a more exotic and European sound, if not Chinese, but my selection here mainly features the former. I'm not very familiar with European music, but I reckon some melodies could be Portuguese-influenced.
If you know other tunes featuring Nagasaki, feel free to mention them too. With that said, let's begin.
We kick things off with Hachi's signature, "Nagasaki no Hito". I thought it was a pretty good way to begin the trip since it sounds rather bright while describing the features of the city, like the sotetsu (Japanese sago palm), ishi-datami (cobblestone paths), the minato machi (port town), Oranda-zaka (Hollander Slope), etc. It fit the only day when the weather was clear and we were able to take a stroll down the port. We did see sotetsu. Many sotetsu. Seeing palm trees thriving in winter was a first for me.
Akira Nakai, Masaru Takahashi & Coloratino -- Shianbashi Blues (思案橋ブルース)
After our walk, we headed to a place featured in one of my favourite mood kayo songs and karaoke go-to's, Shianbashi. It's basically a watering hole with a number of Chinese joints and bars. Kinda seedy, but not unexpected, considering it's a mood kayo staple. The wistfulness conveyed by lead vocalist Nakai's high tenor in the original "Shianbashi Blues" fits perfectly in the warm, neon-lit streets of Shianbashi, but more so when it's raining... which would come later...
We then adjourned to Tsuruchan, a Nagasaki institution. This more-than-a-century-old kissaten is renowned for a Nagasaki B-grade gourmet food, Toruko raisu (Turkish rice). I don't think there's anything Turkish about it, but to say that it was hearty was an understatement: large servings of double carbs (napolitan spaghetti plus rice pilaf) and a slab of tonkatsu with gravy. Never had a, "Gochisousan" been more appropriate after I polished off everything. Mom would later remark that she'd never seen me eat that much carbs in one sitting before. Neither have I, mother.
Mae-Kiyo and the Cool Five finally make their appearance! Yes, I had saved the Nagasaki-made group's iconic hit for Day 2 of our trip because that's when the rain came. A lot of it. I don't like rain, but I took it as an opportunity to experience what most Nagasaki songs feature. Also, there's just a warm feeling when you hear one of your beloved singers' songs that first got you into him at the place he came from.
Later in the day, mother and I finally found and visited Glover Garden. Besides the fact that this residence of the titular Scottish businessman is a famed historical spot in Nagasaki, we wanted to go up there because the Glover house was often used in extremely cheesy and cringe-worthy karaoke videos from the 1970s and 80s, some featuring Mae-Kiyo and his cronies. I still cannot bear to rewatch some of those videos because I die of secondhand cringe every time. It was a beautiful place, however, with an amazing view of the bay and city, especially in the evening. We also did the tourist thing of having castella and tea at a cafe on the premises. Castella is... cake. That's all I can say. But its worth got elevated because I was cold, drenched, and hungry.
Dick Mine & Sendaka Fujiwara -- Nagasaki Elegy (長崎エレジー)
Before ending our day a Glover Garden, we first began the day going uphill. Up Oranda-zaka and exploring the old grounds of a Catholic/Christian girls' school (I forgot what it was called). In the rain. Oranda-zaka and the surrounding slopes were really steep and lined with cobblestone, so the anxiety from trying to slide down the hill was palpable. Oura Cathedral was the main checkpoint in mind. It was one of the well-known churches from the persecution days and I believe where Christianity was "rediscovered" in Japan once the hunt was over. Rather poignant, especially under the grey skies, light rain, and with Mother Mary watching over the town from up a hill. So, I thought "Nagasaki Elegy" was fitting with its references to Catholicism and a fine drizzle. Also, this song was constantly running through my head throughout my time in Nagasaki.
On the note of poignant, nothing was more so than the Nagasaki Peace Park and Ground Zero for the atomic bomb. It was chilling to read survivors' accounts and to imagine what it must've been like then and there. And yet, it was tranquil and there was a sense of hopefulness that radiated from tributes to the victims of the devastation and monuments symbolizing the strive for peace. One of these sculptures was the Nagasaki no Kane (Bell of Nagasaki). According to the J-Wiki, it was built in 1977 in memory of military factory workers, many of whom were school students, who perished when the bomb hit a nearby factory.
Fujiyama's solemn "Nagasaki no Kane", though only related to the structure by name, quite aptly represents the gravity of this place. I feel it does this through the initial hopelessness that morphs into strength to carry on upon hearing the bells of the Nagasaki cathedrals toll in each stanza. An emotional song to fit such a significant place.
Uchiyamada Hiroshi & The Cool Five -- Omoikiri Bashi (思い切り橋)
On a lighter note, Chinatown and Megane Bashi (Spectacles Bridge) were next on the itinerary. Compared to Yokohama's Chinatown, Nagasaki's felt more... real? Less kitschy. There was a section that you could easily tell was geared towards tourists, but outside that bubble was a much larger, proper local suburb/settlement dotted with old Chinese Buddhist temples and a Hokkien clan association. Connecting Chinatown to other parts of town were bridges. Many bridges. That's not to be unexpected since the city is by the coast with many waterways. And one of the most iconic bridges is the Megane Bashi, a cobblestone bridge with two perfect arches that stretches over a tiny section of the Nakashima river. I believe it's Japan's oldest surviving arched bridge, but I could be wrong. It was very picturesque, especially when you see its reflection on the surface of the water.
I don't know any kayo that feature this bridge specifically but as an ode to the many ancient bridges in the area, I bring another Cool Five tune, "Omoikiri Bashi". A very dramatic and jaunty number with Mae-Kiyo's recognizable anguished cries.
Along the uber-long, more than a-century-old shopping street that follows the Nakashima river, my eyes picked up an old, rather Chinese-style sundries store. It oozed early Showa-era vibes, but what stole my attention was a pile of pomelos inside. Despite the freezing rain, I couldn't help but smile because the very first Nagasaki-themed kayo I'd heard came to mind, Obata's cheerful "Nagasaki no Zabon Uri". It wasn't on one of the steep inclines of the city, the store was empty, and I don't even think pomelos were actually much of a thing in Nagasaki despite the Chinese settlement, but it was just a happy little coincidence to add to my Nagasaki song experience.
Yuri Akemi -- Nagasaki Monogatari (長崎物語)
On our final day before heading off to the airport, we checked out Dejima, where the Dutch settlers were confined during Tokugawa's reign in an attempt to stave off religious influence. It had been made into a sort of open-air museum with preserved Dutch-style buildings. "Nagasaki Monogatari" is one such song that gives a shout-out to the little island, among other Nagasaki tropes while telling the tragic story of one Jagatara Oharu (じゃがたらお春).
Shizuo Higuchi -- Nagasaki Chanson (長崎シャンソン)
Ah, yes, traditional Japanese cuisine
Rounding off the trip was lunch at a family grill restaurant where Mom and I tried the Sasebo burger, the taberu milkshake (a milkshake you eat, not drink), and the lemon steak. It was pretty decent fare, with the latter being more delicious than it sounds. On the way back, I had Higuchi's exotic and jiving "Nagasaki Chanson" in my ears. Having enjoyed my time in the city, even with the rain, I think I can agree with the following welcoming lines from this ode to the port city:
Batten Nagasaki yume no machi
Mimase yokatokko yorimasse
Batten Nagasaki yume no machi yume no machi
"Batten" roughly translates to something like "although" or "but" in the Kyushu dialect, and this last bit of the last stanza proudly claims something like, "Nagasaki, city of dreams! Come on over, it's fabulous!" Couldn't have put it better myself. For that matter, it is indeed also an "uta no machi" (city of music), considering I was able to make a whole list out of just some kayo that are Nagasaki-themed.
If you do have the opportunity to visit Kyushu, perhaps give Nagasaki a visit. It's great if you're a foodie and/or a history and culture buff. If I have the opportunity, I would love to go back. There's just so much more of the city and prefecture to see. Next stop, Sasebo, Saikai, and the "Kaeri Bune" (かえり船) music plaque.
On a final note, since Mae-Kiyo is a Nagasaki native (Sasebo city), he serves as a mascot/spokesman for the local police force's fight against fraud and other related crimes. Ever since I spotted my first Mae-Kiyo anti-crime poster, I took it upon myself to do a "Mae-Kiyo Sagashi" (Spot the Mae-Kiyo) and try to find at least one picture of the pillar man a day. I was more or less successful, and it culminated in the ultimate piece: Mae-Kiyo on the cover of the "Karaoke Fan" magazine. I'd waited an eternity for him to be on any magazine cover, and it just so happened that his long-awaited cover appearance coincided with my trip to Nagasaki :).
Just for interest's sake, I checked out which singers were born today, October 5th, and the Internet informed me that Showa Era croonerDick Mine（ディック・ミネ）was one such person. He would have been 114 years old today, but he actually passed away in June 1991 at the age of 82.
Mine and composer Masao Koga（古賀政男）had been songwriting partners for some time when the latter left Teichiku Records, leaving the former with a new composer Tokujiro Okubo（大久保徳二郎）, a jazz saxophonist. In January 1939, Okubo came up with his first creation for Mine, "Aru Ame no Gogo" (One Rainy Afternoon) with lyrics by Kinya Shimada（島田磬也）.
A sweet song about remembering a past romance with a young lady, walking hand-in-hand down the street, it was arranged into a danceable tune with that tango rhythm. According to J-Wiki, Mine, Shimada and Okubo ended up making beautiful music together as they became known as one hitmaking trio.
Before I begin this article, I read a couple of nights ago that Mr YOUNG MAN Hideki Saijo (西城秀樹) had passed away just a few days ago. I am not a big fan of Saijo but he was one of the singers who ushered me into the world of kayo early on. As such, it was a big shock to read that he's gone so soon. J-Canuck has done a nice little tribute to him which you can check out here. I'm happy that I had the chance to see this icon of the 70's a couple of times on TV. Rest in peace, Mr Saijo.
Well, let's continue on a brighter note, shall we? (Shoo, onion ninjas! Shoo!)
For a couple of weeks between the end of April and early May, I was back in Japan for what may be my last visit to the land of the rising sun for a while - I'll be heading off to university soon so I wanted to take care of some outstanding items on my list before I get shipped off. I did accomplish the goals I set out for this trip (at the cost of my bank account) around a fragment of Tohoku, a bit of Hokuriku, and of course, Tokyo, and I had an incredible time travelling with Mom for most of the time, and hanging around, as J-Canuck calls it, The Big Sushi, on my own for a few days. As with my previous trips, I would like to share with you guys the highlights. To start, I'd like to talk about my return to Mukashi no Uta no Mise, a karaoke joint somewhere in the middle of Sugamo'sJizodori.
I recorded down my first visit to this quaint joint a couple of years ago, so you can check that out here. This sequel will be a long one as it encompasses my third and fourth visit, so sit back and get comfy. Alright, let's begin.
My acceptance gift.
I was at Mukashi no Uta no Mise last December for my second visit, but with it being a weekday, there was hardly anyone there so I took it as some sort of a practice round to try out some songs I had been meaning to sing. This time around, however, was a whole different ball game. This third visit (and first of this recent trip) was during the middle of Golden Week, more specifically Children's Day Saturday, and I was on my own. I was a little worried as to whether there'd be anyone there as I thought that the oldies would be spending that day with their grand kids (if they had any). But I was dead wrong as an hour into opening time and the "party" was already in full swing. The Mama-san was happily surprised that I showed up again, and one of the folks, this uncle I'll call Y-san, recognized me from two years back.
With a rowdy audience of 6 (at that moment) and hyped on coffee, I went in over my head and picked my opening song, Ikuzo Yoshi's (吉幾三) "Hokugen Kaikyo" (北限海峡). I'd never sung it before (karaoke style) but I love it, so what could go wrong? - Oh, things went wrong. It was a bad idea to start with an unfamiliar song and the key was wrong and I couldn't quite get it either. I could feel the disappointment from the crowd too, especially since one of them even mentioned, "Oh, this looks promising," at the start. I stabilized a little, but I thought it was a travesty. I am so sorry, Yoshi.
"Omae...", the sweetest bit, but the hardest to sing, in my opinion.
With my senses slapped back into me, I switched to my original plan, which was opening with Hideo Murata's (村田英雄) "Meoto Shunju" (夫婦春秋). I thought it was decent - after tweaking the key a bit, though a little rough on the lowest notes than I'd hoped, I felt like I was redeemed in the eyes of the regulars, most of whom had honed their skills to a fine point. "All the oji-sans would shed happy tears when they hear you sing this," was my favourite comment. I was given a seal of approval and offered sushi (the first of many, many other snacks) that the group had brought along. By that time, the most rowdy member of the club had arrived - a flamboyant purple haired oji-san in a kimono whom I shall call Y-chan. He fanned the flames of an already noisy bunch to new heights with oolong highballs - much to the chagrin of this old lady beside me, though.
I followed it up with Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) "Ore wa Nora Inu" (俺は野良犬), a song which I have decided to make my Juu-hachi ban. It was definitely a blast from the past for the audience with its nostalgic sound. Personally, I felt that this was my best song for that day.
By then, the handful of folks became two handfuls, and passionate cheers of encouragement like "Mattemashita!" (I waited for this!) were constantly thrown out to everyone. It also became apparent to the oldies that I knew a lot of enka - frankly, it's more because they picked many I so happened to know - so it became almost like a game to see if I could recognize or even sing whatever they sang. It was amusing... or they thought I was amusing.
En-ya-saaaa-to mawashiteeeeee...
Next was Haruo Minami's (三波春夫) "Funakata-san yo" (船方さんよ), which was personally the hardest to sing, not because I had problems with the song itself, but because the oldies were at peak levels of excitement while screaming out their kakegoe to go along with the song and Y-chan kept singing with me (it's one of his favourites), so I had a hard time listening to myself... I need more karaoke experience (this was only my third time ever). Overall, I thought it was OK in spite of the distractions.
After dwelling in the oldies, I decided to go with something more modern. By that I mean Kiyoshi Hikawa (氷川きよし) and "Choito Kimagure Wataridori" (ちょいと気まぐれ渡り鳥), and after, "Omokage no Miyako" (面影の都). The former I felt was better than the latter, plus it was a lot more fun to sing. It made me realize, however, that the Sugamo bunch couldn't be very much bothered about the Prince of Enka, so that made the serifu portion a little dull, though I did get a "Hai, ojou-san!" from the lovely Grandma K. The video above, which first also shows "Otone Nagare Tsuki" (大利根ながれ月), a song I sang at a later date, will give you an idea of how fans react to the whimsical "Choito Kimagure Wataridori".
My 8th choice and the last for that whole afternoon session, was Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也) "Yuyake no Tonbi" (夕焼けとんび), thus completing the Yonin Shu set. I also thought it'd be a good idea since it didn't require as much vocal gymnastics, and it was evening (around 5 pm) by then. Again, I had to tinker with the key, but it was a satisfactory end to Saturday. This being another of Y-chan's favourites, he actually gave me some notes for improvement, of which I felt honored for having received advice from one of the day's best singers.
There were handshakes here and there, and I even managed to arrange another meeting with some of them on the following Monday - I planned to go for another round anyways, so all the better with a few more folks. 'twas then when I finally introduced myself. Suddenly, I didn't feel so lonely anymore.
Monday came soon enough and I was back in Sugamo. As expected, it was pretty quiet and there was only a crowd of 3 strangers, and later the 2 folks from Saturday who promised to show up, Grandma K and this sweet lady called K-chan, much to my joy. I took it as another opportunity to try out more songs, which indeed I did - I (unwittingly) sang a total of 13 songs! Takoyaki was brought by grandma to the karaoke to share, which was enough for all present, though both ladies insisted I had theirs, so I ended up with 3. I was glad and relieved that the red ginger taste was very mild.
The first of three.
This session was partially me retrying a few numbers from my 2016 round, beginning with Hikawa's "Hakone Hachiri no Hanjiro" (箱根八里の半次郎), which I can always rely on for a warm-up, Minami's "Yuki no Wataridori" (雪の渡り鳥), Muchi's "Osho" (王将), and Michi's "Hoshikuzu no Machi" (星屑の町). The later three attempts I would consider "meh" - was in too mellow a mood to "feel" the them.
Oh boy, do I miss them...
New tunes were attempted too, and some of my best that day, I felt, were Duke Aces' "Onna Hitori" (女ひとり), and Haruo Oka's "Akogare no Hawaii Koro" (憧れのハワイ航路). I was nervous over their keys as well, but it all worked out in the end. For once I could agree with audiences' "Umai!" and "Jouzu!", and not see it as common courtesy .
To mix things up a little, I picked some daring stuff too, like Hikawa's version of "Benten Kozo" (弁天小僧), which was a real crowd-pleaser the moment I did it in his expressive manner - a deliberate decision. And also his recent single, "Shoubu no Hanamichi" (勝負の花道).
HA!
It goes without saying that I did another Hachi number, this time being "An' Tokya Doshaburi" (あん時ゃどしゃ降り), and the MV showcased the movie he was in from 1957. They knew I love Hachi, so I think they yelled out something on the line of "There's your Hacchan!" when he appeared. Yes, grandmas, myHacchan...
0:49-0:57 though... ma heart...
Duets were quite commonplace that day, with a couple of the uncles wanting to sing something with Grandma K - she was pretty good for someone over 80. Eventually, she even invited me to sing 2 songs with her! Her choices were "Kiyoshi no Zundoko Bushi" (きよしのズンドコ節), followed by Dick Mine's "Tabi Sugata Sannin Otoko" (旅姿三人男), the latter chosen with the knowledge that I love matatabi enka. From the former, I noted that I had problems singing duets as I couldn't concentrate on my own key when my mind goes off listening to my partner's. The latter was better, though after that was when I truly felt exhausted from forcing out the low notes (my nemesis).
As the session came to a close, I wondered what song would be a meaningful end (for now, at least) to my fun-filled days at Mukashi no Uta no Mise. Frankly, I thought of saving the encouraging "Shoubu no Hanamichi" for this, but having already sung it earlier, I needed a replacement. And then a light bulb appeared - why not return to my Japanese music roots?
I chose "Hajimari wa Itsumo Ame" (はじまりはいつも雨) by Aska. The folks knew I'm all enka, but I wanted to show them what came first. Frankly, while I felt that it was a good attempt and better than a good half of my enka choices, the reception was lukewarm - except for K-chan, who was perpetually excited for anything. Grandma K and this other grandpa had no clue of the song's existance, and I have a bad feeling that the Mama-san did not approve of my choice, considering Aska's tarnished record - it's been 5 years, though...
Anyway, at the end of everything, I was pleasantly surprised albeit quite tentative to recieve some parting gifts from the folks. After all, I had only known them for two days. But they insisted, so I agreed to a pair of geta from K-chan, and a dinner treat from Grandma K. It was an awkward sushi dinner - not because I had problems communicating with the old lady, but because I had problems interacting with the sushi chef. Geez, he must have been wondering what this grandma was doing with this young foreigner who could barely speak Japanese...
I am very grateful to have met such wonderful people and experience their hospitality on this trip, and saying goodbye wasn't the easiest thing to do, to be honest. But I hope to see them again soon - now I'm aware that I have to appear on Saturdays or Sundays for most of the Sugamo bunch to be in attendance. Until then, I intend to fully learn Grandma K's favourite song, "Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta" (勘太郎月夜唄).
With that, we've come to the end of this article. It's been a long article - thank you for sticking through and I hope you enjoyed reading it!
Left: Conch; Right: Salmon
Far right: A gross pile of ginger
P.S. During one interview, Kohei Fukuda (福田こうへい) saidthat if you sing any one of the Yonin Shu's (Hachi, Michi, Muchi, Minami) songs, the oldies will go wild. I can strongly attest to that.
Took me more than a year to finally get around to it, but here's a tribute to the great composer with his trademark square glasses and neat mustache, Masao Koga (古賀政男), via a Creator article.
This'll be my first entry under this label - I'd always wanted try my hand at a Creator article ever since J-Canuck started it this sort of write-ups, and I wanted to do one on a composer whose works I could more or less pinpoint easily, so who better than this legendary Showa era songwriter? All the more I thought he was a good and fitting candidate as I got the opportunity to visit his museum in Tokyo in 2016. However, I knew that this would be a big undertaking, considering Koga's title of Father of Kayokyoku and the fact that there are numerous famous pieces of music under his name. One article wouldn't suffice - it might, but it would be an extremely lengthy one. As such, I had to wait until I had the time and the will (the most important) to consolidate what I know about him into a couple of articles, and so, I thought now would be good since my schedule is pretty free, and "Uta Kon" paid their annual tribute to him this week, and his 113th birthday is coming up.
As mentioned, Koga had an extensive discography, so I'll try my best to put down what he was known for, as well as some interesting ones I'd come across. In this first part, I will include Koga's bio and his early works from when he began his composing duties in the 1930's to the post war period in the late 1940's. Sorry if something you're looking for doesn't show up - it might in part 2 though.
The picture on the right shows Koga when he entered Meiji.
Alright, let's begin with some background information. Koga was born on 18th November 1904 and his real name 古賀正夫 was the same as his stage name, with only a slight change in the third kanji character. He hailed from a village by the name of Taguchi Mura, now known as Ohkawa city, in Fukuoka. After the death of his father, Koga moved to Korea where his brother worked and spent most of his adolescence there. In that period of time, he got acquainted with the taishogoto, or the Nagoya harp, as well as the instrument he was often associated with, the mandolin.
In 1923, Koga returned to Japan and attended Meiji University, where he joined the school's mandolin club (明治大学マンドリン倶楽部). However, a few years later in 1928, it seemed like he hit quite a rough patch as he actually planned to kill himself at an onsen town in Miyagi. Fortunately, after being inspired by watching the sun setting in Zao, he decided to release his frustrations in a less morbid way by creating his first piece of music, "Kage wo Shitai te" (影を慕いて) - I can now see why this song is so depressing.
Sato's version.
In 1929, he would play "Kage wo Shitai te" at one of the mandolin club's performances and caught the attention of a popular singer at the time, Chiyako Sato (佐藤千夜子). As a result, she recorded the song a year later in 1931 with Koga, then using his real name, on the mandolin and guitar. It did not sell very well, but this marked the start of Koga's path as a composer. Once he graduated from Meiji in 1931, Koga went to Nippon Colombia Records, which from what I've been seeing was the record company back then, in hopes of being a regular employee under the company's literary section due to not having confidence in his songwriting abilities. But he got signed on as a contract composer instead. From there on out, by collaborating with prolific lyricists and the early showa era's shining stars, multiple hits that are still being remembered today were spawned.
At the moment, I am able to pick out two of Koga's distinctive songwriting styles, the first of which is what I call the quintessential Koga Melody where you can hear the eerie notes of the mandolin clearly in the midst of a brooding score. The other was a bit difficult for me to pick out and it's not really guaranteed that having these traits in the music means they were made by the man himself, but when Koga creates jolly tunes they seem to have a very festive, exuberant, and light quality, and I tend to hear crashing cymbals in the background from time to time. With that being said, I shall go on to talk about the songs that brought him fame and status.
One of Koga's frequent collaborators was the classically trained Ichiro Fujiyama (藤山一郎), who had encountered the new composer when he was still in music school (Tokyo Music School). "Oka wo Koete" (丘を越えて), "Sake wa Namida ka Tameiki ka" (酒は涙か溜息か), and "Aoi Sebiro de" (青い背広で) are just some of the Koga-composed works from Mr. Fujiyama's (it's my nickname for him) discography, but I think their most successful hit was "Tokyo Rhapsody" (東京ラプソディ) from 1936. As I had mentioned not too long ago, this optimistic tune about the wonders of Tokyo is quite the ear worm. If I'm not mistaken, Koga came up with the melody to "Tokyo Rhapsody" with the idea of exploring the metropolis by car, where one drives around and gets to take in the sights and sounds of the different parts of the city. Perhaps those in the car are new to the bustling city, which would explain the excitement conveyed. Fujiyama had also recorded his version of "Kage wo Shitai te" in 1932 which then became successful and probably became the de facto version of it.
Another artiste whom I always see having mustachioed composer's name pop up when the title flashes on screen is Noboru Kirishima (霧島昇), who was quite the contrast to the almost constantly grinning Mr. Fujiyama. Kirishima's Koga-collaborations included "Reijin no Uta" (麗人の歌) and "Shin Tsuma Kagami (?)" (新妻鏡), which was a duet with Akiko Futaba (二葉あき子), but they seemed to be most well-known for "Dare ka Furusato wo Omowazu" (誰か故郷を想わざる). Koga had written this bokyo tune from 1940 with the equally renowned Saijo Yaso (西條八十) after he returned from a cross-cultural sharing program of sorts in the US. It's got a rather jaunty melody to it to accompany the premises of a fellow far away from home fondly reminiscing the good times spent in his village hometown. Not surprisingly, it was very well received by soldiers at war at the time who could relate. Koga had drawn inspiration for "Dare ka Furusato wo Omowazu" from his time at his own hometown in Fukuoka.
Going a bit on a tangent to give you some trivia I uncovered not too long ago since I have mentioned Yaso: The Lyricist Award at the Japan Record Awards were known as the Yaso Saijo Award at one period of time. I found it nice that they named that award after the songwriter - it was a good way to honor him. On another note, Koga and Ryoichi Hattori (服部良一) were the ones who started the Japan Composer's Association (日本作曲家協会).
Alright, moving on. The two contributions Koga made for Mr. Fujiyama and Kirishima that I shared were showcased his livelier side, so the next few tunes will bring the spotlight on to the melancholic side, which he was probably most noted for.
Koga's own life experience played another role in the making of "Jinsei no Namikimichi" (人生の並木路), sung by actor and jazz singer Dick Mine (ディック・ミネ) in 1937. Early in the article, I mentioned about Koga's move to Korea after his father had passed on - well, the songwriter had translated the suffering and pain he felt at that time to a melody for this bleak song about a pair of siblings having to support each other away from home. The reason for the siblings' departure from home didn't seem to be specified in Sonosuke Sato's (佐藤惣之助) lyrics, but it does remind me of the Studio Ghibli film "Grave of the Fireflies".
Up next is a piece that, to me, is the definition of Masao Koga: "Jinsei Gekijo" (人生劇場). While the original take was recorded by Shigeo Kusunoki (楠木繁夫) in 1938, whose version I have put up, it was made popular by Hideo Murata (村田英雄) in 1959. This was where I got to know Koga's typical unnerving musical styling - especially in Murata's version where the use of the mandolin is obvious.
Although actor and movie director Toshiro Omi's (近江俊郎) hit "Yu no Machi no Elegy" (湯の町エレジー) is more about pining for love lost at an onsen town, I can't help but wonder if the wistfulness in the music from this 1948 hit was influenced by that incident Koga went through two decades ago. The melody of "Yu no Machi no Elegy" also focuses on the acoustic guitar rather than the mandolin, and that brings to mind similarly melancholic compositions from Toru Funamura (船村徹) years later. Y'know, I never really liked this song for the longest time, but with the number of times I have been listening to it over and over again recently on my own accord and while writing this section, I'm quite glad to say that it has grown on me... unfortunately that means "Izu no yama yama..." will be stuck in my head for the weeks to come.
Now that I've covered the more depressing works from early in Koga's career, I would like to end off this first segment of my tribute to the great songwriter on a silly note with "Uchi no Nyobo nya Hige ga aru" (うちの女房にゃ髭がある). Yep, Koga created comical stuff too, even for something titled "My Wife Has a Mustache". This aMAzing song was the theme song to the movie of the same name starring Kyouji Sugi (杉狂児) that featured a timid salary man who is ruled by his wife. It's a happy-go-lucky tune that amusingly undermines the guy's fear of his wife - he's clearly bothered by her facial hair (probably grown after they got hitched and he's got no where to run), but is beyond terrified of telling her and facing the consequences, as you can hear from Sugi's stammering when the wife, played by Geisha singer Yakko Michi (美ち奴), confronts him. Man, I would love to hear Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) version of this. Speaking of Michi, Koga had also created a successful song for her called "Ah, Sore nanoni" (あゝそれなのに) for the same movie.
Sudden epiphany from 16/11/17: Although I find that it might be unlikely that "Uchi no Nyobo nya Hige ga aru" might have a deeper meaning as it was meant for a comedy, I just realised that what if the wife having a mustache is another figurative way for saying that she runs the house? It could be a twist on the saying "The one who wears the pants in the household", just that instead of pants it's having a mustache. I mean, madame here could may as well have a solid handlebar too while wearing the pants (mustache).
Okay, that's all for this half. I hope you've enjoyed this so far and would look forward to Part 2.
P.S. I would love to have a T-shirt with that caricature of him in this photo.
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