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.
As I noted in my previous article, due to Wednesday the 29th being Showa Day in Japan (and thus the official start to Golden Week), NHK's "Uta Con"（うたコン）devoted a good chunk of its broadcast tonight to some of the Showa Erakayo kyoku which I was plenty grateful about. After all, this is what we're all here for when it comes to this blog.
I recollect that I may have done something in the past to commemorate Showa Day via an Author's Picks but I decided to still go ahead with another try at a list. Initially, I'd thought about bringing over some of a list of most popular Showa Erakaraoke songs but when I realized that most of those songs originated in the years 1985 to 1987, I jettisoned that idea for being a little too centralized, time-wise. Then, after some more thought, I blurted out "Oh, what the heck!". I'll just let my memories pick out one song that immediately comes to mind when I think of a certain decade or period within Showa (1926-1989) and let the chips fall where they may.
The list below only consists of five songs...yes, very inadequate (I've left out City Pop and Group Sounds, for instance) but take this as an opportunity for folks to chime in with their representative kayo choices. Anyways, anything that would seem adequate would probably force me to make a new blog. Plus, Labels would throw a major tantrum at me. Still, allow me to mention the Blue Comets'"Blue Chateau"（ブルー・シャトウ）from 1967 and Miki Matsubara's（松原みき）"Mayonaka no Door"（真夜中のドアー）from 1979.
I'm just off by a week here but it was a little over a year ago that I posted "Osaka Songs", a list of Osaka-titled tunes, and crazily enough, in all those 53 weeks since then, I hadn't put up anything called "Tokyo Songs". Little old me had naturally assumed that I'd already done so. Nope, that isn't true. Kinda wild considering that I'd just recently written about Takajin Yashiki's（やしきたかじん）"Tokyo"（東京）. Well, that changes today. Quite the wide range of kayo, too!
(1959) Frank Nagai and Kazuko Matsuo -- Tokyo Nightclub （東京ナイトクラブ）
I figure that with the Holidays now in full swing in Japan, folks may be having their share of parties including those that occur at the karaoke boxes and bars of the nation. Maybe franchises such as Big Echo are doing volume business this week which may be quite long for people...perhaps as long as a week (yeah, I'm being a little sarcastic there). Of course, depending on the size and the average age of the group along with the type of songs that they tend to sing, there will be the duets to tackle.
Perhaps for the younger generation, that doesn't happen so often, since a lot of those duets occur in the enka and Mood Kayo genres. Plus, there is the matter of harmonizing which isn't all that easy. Not being a particularly great singer in my karaoke days in Japan, I don't think I ever dared ask any lady for a duet. However, listening to those duets on the stereo and now on YouTube is more my speed. Here are some of my favourites.
(1959) Frank Nagai and Kazuko Matsuo -- Tokyo Nightclub （東京ナイトクラブ）
(1982) Hiroshi Itsuki and Nana Kinomi -- Izakaya （居酒屋）
When it comes to Japan Railways, there has been one campaign of theirs that has stood out because of the glorious beauty of Kyoto and that one song which has accompanied the commercials for over thirty years. I'm hoping that whoever in the JR advertising department was behind the idea of using "My Favorite Things" got a major bonus for the idea. The cinematic version of "The Sound of Music" from where "My Favorite Things" originated is practically essential viewing in the junior high schools of Japan, so that particular song among the many others in there is well known to everyone. But now, the Japanese probably relate the song more to Kyoto than the original movie.
Of course, before Julie Andrews and the movie version became the huge hit, "The Sound of Music" originated as a stage musical in 1959 with Mary Martin in the starring role of Maria. I never knew all that much about Martin but I knew her son, Larry Hagman, as the infamous JR Ewing in the show "Dallas". And of course, there was his earlier role as the far nicer military man Tony in "I Dream of Jeannie".
For the record, I'll have you know that from the lyrics, my favourite things would be apple strudel and schnitzel with noodles. If these were available at a buffet, I would be a happy man. Now, the reason for me choosing this one is that although it wasn't specifically made for the Holidays, "My Favorite Things" has been a staple on the radio and mall speakers during the Xmas season. Personally, I used to remember my kindergarten teacher always playing this on the record player...most likely to sedate us.
I figure that if Rodgers and Hart have a ROY entry on "Kayo Kyoku Plus", then Rodgers and Hammerstein should get a shot as well. Anyways, what were the big hits in 1959 in Japan when "The Sound of Music" made its debut on Broadway?
It's been several years since I put up the previous article regarding the late singer-actor Koji Tsuruta（鶴田浩二）. For me, the most recognizable song by him will be his most famous hit, the 1970 "Kizu Darake no Jinsei"（傷だらけの人生）.
Well, last night on NHK's "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新BS日本の歌）, one of the guests sang a moody kayo titled "Aka to Kuro no Blues"(The Red and Black Blues). Not surprisingly, it has been categorized as a Mood Kayo, probably one of the first of the genre, and it was indeed recorded by Tsuruta as a single in 1955. Tsuruta had already been making waves as a primo movie star who could sing; "Aka to Kuro no Blues" cemented that reputation as another hit.
Written by Tetsuo Miyagawa（宮川哲夫）and composed by Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）, it's also another ballad of woe as the protagonist of the piece is probably schlumping in some alley watering hole while bemoaning his lot in life with the hint that a lady in a red and black dress whirled him into a sucker's deal of romance. The horns are there of course, but I also picked up on a bit more jazz than usual in this Mood Kayo.
With "Aka to Kuro no Blues" becoming one of the first big Mood Kayo hits, it was inevitable that some of the other big singing stars would take a swing at the song. Frank Nagai（フランク永井）was one such person with another being the Tough Guy himself, Yujiro Ishihara（石原裕次郎）.
Quincy Jones (1933-2024) from the LA Times via Wikimedia Commons
Now that I've put up a rare Monday Reminiscings of Youth article just now and I'm going to do the same here, people must be wondering why I've gone all ROY on KKP. Well, one excuse is that it is a national holiday in Japan known as Culture Day. I don't usually include Japanese national holidays when I do the special holiday version of ROY, but for today I'm making an exception due to the passing of a couple of music figures in my life.
I've already posted one on singer Jack Jones and now we have here a tribute to Quincy Jones, one of the most prolific and successful songwriters and music producers the world has ever known. His file on "Kayo Kyoku Plus" is already fairly large thanks to entries such as his phenomenal 1981 album"The Dude" and his collaborations with Michael Jackson, including the album "Thriller".
Jones had already been in the music business for several years since the 1950s when he released his first single in 1962, "Soul Bossa Nova". Sound familiar?
If it does, you are probably one of the many folks who caught any of the "Austin Powers" movies with Mike Myers. One couldn't have asked for a more Swinging 1960s tune to accompany the British spy and his fellow dancers. The give-and-take between the flutes and the horns is truly groovy, baby!
Probably, though, for a lot of us Canadians, hearing "Soul Bossa Nova" as part of an "Austin Powers" movie was nostalgically surprising than revelatory. That's probably because we had heard it before...as the theme for the Canadian game show "Definition" with Jim Perry throughout the 70s and 80s. I certainly had no idea about what the title was and what its pedigree was...just knew it as the theme from "Definition" and it was probably the biggest thing that I can remember about the show.
According to Wikipedia, "Soul Bossa Nova" was also a track on Jones' 1962"Big Band Bossa Nova" album and apparently it took no more than twenty minutes for the composer to whip up. I had no idea that Lalo Schifrin, the master behind the themes for "Mission: Impossible" and "Mannix", was the piano player on "Soul Bossa Nova".
I know that Jones left this world a very elderly man at 91, but it's still a big void that he's left in music and we can be grateful at least that he's left this huge legacy of music from movies, television and the recording booth. My condolences to his family, friends and millions of fans.
"Soul Bossa Nova" was released in December 1962. Therefore, why not have the last three performers on the White team from NHK's Kohaku Utagassen that year show up?
Welcome back to the J-C AI Gallery where the Bing Image Creator takes my famous kayo kyoku or J-Pop titles and interprets them as best as it can. This week's theme is on those boozy Mood Kayo songs of yore. Remember to drink responsibly!😉
I failed to mention this yesterday but April 29th is part of the Golden Week holiday season in Japan and it's currently known as Showa Day. It had been celebrated as Emperor Hirohito's(the Showa era emperor) birthday until his death in early 1989 and then it was known as Greenery Day until 2007, when it was given its current name (Greenery Day is now May 4th).
Since there has been some nostalgic attraction for the culture of the Showa era (1926-1989), that's how I've usually seen Showa Day...not so much for the veneration of the late emperor but for what the times and trappings were like for ordinary people in Japan. Apparently, there is a Showa era museum in Aichi Prefecture as you can see above via MEGULOG's video. My particular examples of Showa era culture that regularly pop up in my memories are the old public phones of different sizes and colours, and the old-style kissaten as you can view in Mikki Café & Life below. Personally, my Showa era café will always be Café Renoir, the long-running franchise.
But of course, this being a kayo kyoku blog, I wanted to give my own contribution to Showa Day in terms of culture by providing some of the old songs. I'd wondered if I could find some sort of Top 5 list regarding memorable kayo kyoku but really couldn't find anything, so I've decided to come up with my own list of six songs representing each decade from the 1930s to the 1980s (sorry, couldn't remember anything from the 1920s). There wasn't any great research or all-night brain wracking for these songs...they just popped into my head and together they can perhaps show how music changed during the Showa era. So, without further ado...
Dang, that Frank Nagai（フランク永井）! He was quite the natty dresser when he was younger, wasn't he? I'm not sure but I think this is the only Nagai single in the family collection.
That single happens to be "Moonlight in Yokohama", the fifth of six singles that were released by him in August 1964 alone! It must have been quite the assembly line for his recording career during his peak. But that's not only the interesting observations for this particular song written by Seiichi Ida（井田誠一）and composed by Yoichi Suzuki（鈴木庸一）.
For one thing, after listening to the song, I have gotten the impression that it's somewhere between Mood Kayo and a regular kayo kyoku. However, as I was looking at the lyric sheet in the record, both it and its B-side have the label ryukoka（流行歌）written next to them. Ryukoka has been seen as the preceding name for kayo kyoku in the Taisho and early Showa eras in the early 20th century and it also means popular music.
Another point is the fact that it's been given that title of "Moonlight in Yokohama" with the first two words in katakana to transcribe those English words into Japanese script while the city remains written in kanji form. Obviously, I'm merely speculating but the song title could easily have been the wholly Japanese "Yokohama Gekkou"（横浜月光）with the same meaning. I kinda wonder what Ida, Suzuki and Nagai (and the other powers-that-be within the record company) were thinking about when coming up with the title. Had they wanted to show the international nature of Yokohama? One last thing was how the verses in "Moonlight in Yokohama" were in a minor key only to jump up into a major one once the chorus arrives perhaps to add a little more depth to Ida's lyrics about having gained and lost love in the famed Japanese port. Maybe the protagonist is alone again but there are no regrets about the affair itself. After all, as the Alfred Tennyson saying goes, "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all".
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.
April 26 2023: I was given the correction for the title earlier today from commenter Yurihan on the proper reading of the title. It is indeed "Fuyuko to Iu Onna" according to the romaji reading of the single cover as located on the Amazon site given to me in the comments below. However, I am leaving the text that I had originally typed in as is so that you can see why Yurihan made the comment without any confusion although the title on the byline has now been corrected.
Hmmm...usually it's been with the names of the singers or songwriters that I've sometimes run into reading problems. This time, though, it's the title although I think I may have a handle on it due to coming across similarly titled kayo over the years.
By the way, I am talking about a 1964 single by the late Frank Nagai（フランク永井）, "Fuyuko to Iu Hito"(A Woman Named Fuyuko). I tried searching for the proper reading of that original title as you can see above as usual but I couldn't find anything and the lyrics by Takao Saeki（佐伯孝雄）don't have the title in there. The title if read directly would come out as "Fuyuko to Iu Onna" but I know that enka legend Saburo Kitajima（北島三郎）has had his "Hito" (which actually means "person" in English) series of songs based on a woman and a certain geographical area in Japan. For example, there is "Hakodate no Hito"（函館の女...Woman of Hakodate） and "Onomichi no Hito"（尾道の女...Woman of Onomichi）.
Although I hadn't been too sure about why the furigana would say "hito" over the kanji of "onna" when I wrote about Sabu-chan's "Hakodate no Hito", perhaps now I can give a theory. Maybe to refer to "onna" instead of "onna no hito" in the title is a little too rude and abrupt, but the full expression may just be a bit too long for titular purposes. And so, a compromise was made, but again, that's just my theory.
In any case, Nagai's "Fuyuko to Iu Hito" was created by kayo veterans, lyricist Saeki and composer Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）, in the form of a stringent tango. The cover has Nagai looking rather pensive over this drink and that's because he is worried and he cares greatly for Fuyuko, a woman that he's probably seen in the drinking joints doing her duties all the while she's hiding great pain inside. He would love to help her but circumstances may indeed be preventing him from doing so. Isn't that a typical kayo for you?
Welcome back to the blog, Frank Nagai（フランク永井）! It's been a few years since the kayo crooner has been posted up on "Kayo Kyoku Plus" with the most recent one being his "Tokyo Cachito/Roppongi Waltz"（東京カチート・六本木ワルツ）. I wrote on those two back in March 2019.
This time around, though, Nagai's taking on the other big metropolis of Osaka when he sings "Osaka Roman" which came out in 1966. With lyrics by Tsuneo Ishihama（石浜恒夫）and music by Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）, I've always been a little unsure about the definition of roman in Japanese, especially with its depiction in hiragana（ろまん）within the title; usually it appears in katakana（ロマン）. My guess is that the songwriters wanted to emphasize the softness of the situation through the more rounded hiragana when compared with the harder and more angular appearance of katakana.
Sure enough, Nagai trills his way through what I think is a form of kayo lullaby regarding the third-most populous city in Japan. Going through Ishihama's lyrics, my take is the roman here refers to the one definition of romance instead of other meanings such as story or romanticism. This might be something that an Osakan is cooing to his girlfriend while on the verge of proposing. He's setting the stage that he's ready for the highs and lows of marriage and that she's exactly the one to spend life with.
The melody by Yoshida is another one of those examples where I'm not sure whether the song belongs solidly in enka or Mood Kayo. As I mentioned, there is that place namedropping in "Osaka Roman" including sites such as Dotombori and Kitahama along with the languid underlying cha-cha rhythm, both aspects of which can be part of Mood Kayo. On the other hand, there's something enka about the main melody that hints at the heart-on-one's-sleeve love within a couple in the Japanese countryside; it's just been arranged with the saucy horns of the other genre.
Regardless, "Osaka Roman" is an intimate love song of the city for those young couples from back in the day. With Nagai also using examples of Kansai-ben in his singing, the song is most likely considered to be a go-touchi song（ご当地ソング）of the area along with some other kayo that I've listed in that Author's Pick over a month ago. Incidentally, this isn't the velvet-voiced singer's first tiff at an Osaka-based song. Noelle Tham has written up an article on his 1964 "Osaka Gurashi" (大阪ぐらし).
Apologies for throwing in another Reminiscings of Youth article so soon after the last one but on hearing about actor Ed Asner's death earlier today, I just had to include this one. Many folks might recently remember the Kansas City-born TV and movie star from the 2009 Pixar-produced computer animated film "Up" where he played the main character of Carl Fredricksen. However for people of my generation, I will always remember Asner as crusty but lovable news director Lou Grant from "The Mary Tyler Moore Show". Can hardly believe that the show first started almost 51 years ago.
With the announcement of Asner's passing, I've only just realized that almost all of the stars from that famous 1970s sitcom, including Mary Tyler Moore, Gavin MacLeod and Ted Knight are now gone. I think actress Betty White is the only actor from that show who is still here. From what I've gathered over the years since its run between 1970 and 1977 and beyond is that "The Mary Tyler Moore Show", which was about Mary Richards and her personal/professional life involving her work buddies at WJM-TV in Minneapolis, Minnesota, could also have been originating network CBS' first attempt to break out of its reputation of being the farm comedy network since many of its successful sitcoms in the 1960s were based on characters who came from the countryside such as "Green Acres" and "The Beverly Hillbillies".
Even as a kid, I remembered "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" right from its first season since Mary herself had such long hair. The very first time I ever saw the actress was when she was playing Laura Petrie on the black-and-white "The Dick Van Dyke Show", another beloved sitcom from the 1960s, so there was some confusion about her new hairdo and the fact that I was seeing her in colour. And for that matter, where was Dick?
I also remember seeing episodes from time to time in its initial run right from Season 1 along with the tropes of Mary's first apartment, the camaraderie among her and the WJM staff, and the appearance of the cute kitten at the end of the ending credits for each episode. But for me, I think it was in the latter half of the show's 7-year run when I was laughing my guts out at a lot of the episodes including the one that is represented at the very top of the article, "Chuckles Bites the Dust", when the local TV clown is killed in a hilarious accident. It's been voted as one of the top episodes of all time for all American television and it has even merited its own Wikipedia entry.
Yes, I still remember that this is a music blog, and a Japanese one at that, but bear with me. The show was that memorable for me. Besides, it's not the first time that I've given a TV theme song the ROY treatment (see "WKRP in Cincinnati" and "The Odd Couple").
Another thing that I wax nostalgic over when it comes to "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" is the theme song. There have been a number of variations of Sonny Curtis' "Love is All Around" played over the seven seasons, but I will always choose the original version from Season 1 as my favourite take. Created by Patrick Williams, the original is cool and swinging like a Burt Bacharach song (especially with the more pronounced horns), and even the instrumental version of "Love is All Around" used for the ending credits is also my favourite among the variations used during the show's run.
Well, I can perhaps say that almost all of the WJM staff have gotten together once more in a new and better place with love all around. In any case, since the show premiered in September 1970, what were some of the singles that came out around that time? Two of them are actually re-releases from the early 1960s while the other one is once again showing a discrepancy in terms of release month with Showa Pops.
A few days ago, I came up with some suggestions for those folks who were curious about what the traditional Japanese music genre of enka was all about with the male and female singers. Well, tonight, I offer the curious another genre in the Tokyo House Party series: Mood Kayo...the bar/nightclub genre as I identified it on the show back on February 27th.
According to J-Wiki, Mood Kayo supposedly originated from the late 1950s from musical interactions among native entertainers and members of the Occupation forces (mainly American forces), gradually moving to the nightclubs in the entertainment districts of the big cities such as Ginza and Akasaka in Tokyo. The dance music with its Latin, jazz and Hawaiian influences was observed to have generated a certain mood in those establishments thus the music gaining its genre name.
Mood Kayo was often but not always characterized by male groups with a lead vocalist and perhaps a backing chorus of three or four men. But there were also solo artists consisting of both men and women, notably with some pretty smoky voices. Moreover, another trait of the genre was that song titles frequently pinpointed a certain geographically famous area such as the aforementioned Ginza and Akasaka.
Of course, as I've said all along for this series, there are plenty of other examples from this genre that I couldn't get on here, and that includes a number of enka singers who have also dabbled into Mood Kayo from time to time.
One of my first experiences having dessert in Tokyo was at a branch of the Cozy Corner franchise. Although I don't think that I have ever seen one of those sweet shops in the suburbs or bedroom towns of which my Ichikawa was one, Cozy Corner is pretty much everywhere in the main city (for example, there is one of the Ginza shops as you can see at the right of the above photo).
I remember being in a Cozy Corner with friends for the first time after landing in Japan to start my second stint as an English conversation teacher at NOVA. Let me say, first of all, the sizes of cakes vary greatly in Canada and in Japan. Without too much exaggeration, I was accustomed to getting a dangerously large wedge of Black Forest or Strawberry Shortcake which could easily be 1/5 or even 1/4 of a whole. However, when I got my first slice of Strawberry Shortcake at that Cozy Corner, I took a look at it and remarked "Do I eat this or do I inhale it?". Let's say that it was rather petite. However, as the years went by during my life in the Kanto, me and my stomach not only became accustomed to the massing down of cake but by the end, we actually were quite happy for the downshift.
Also, I gather that depending on where a Cozy Corner is located, the clientele can be quite different. My friend and I were sitting in one branch deep in Ginza having our cake and coffee, and we just noticed a lot of very high-class women varying in age between 20 and 40 all around us, knocking back the joe and taking drags on their cigarettes. I would say that approachability was effectively zero. Good cake, though.
On that note, I wanted to introduce a perfectly Mood Kayo tune right from the title itself, "Ginza Blues". A love letter of sorts to one of the world's most expensive neighbourhoods, this apparently has been quite the favourite for singers of the genre over the years. Written by Takeshi Sagara*（相良武）and composed by Domei Suzuki（鈴木道明）, the first recording of this was by the perennial Mood Kayo combination of Kazuko Matsuo & Hiroshi Wada and Mahina Stars（松尾和子・和田弘とマヒナスターズ）back in May 1966. The above performance video also included crooner Frank Nagai（フランク永井）. I don't know what the original recording sounded like but if it's anything like the stage performance, then the Mahina Stars' original had some of the Hawaiian part of the genre. Everyone here also got together to record "Dare Yori mo Kimi wo Aisu"（誰よりも君を愛す）several years previously.
Unfortunately, I couldn't find out when this recorded duet between Nagai and Matsuo was released, but considering their "Tokyo Nightclub"（東京ナイトクラブ）from 1959, these two just had to get back together to do "Ginza Blues". This version keeps the Mood Kayo flavour of course but this time, it veers a bit more toward the jazzy side if that clarinet is any indication. Jazzy and classy.
And of course, The Tough Guy had to get in on some of that "Ginza Blues" action, too. Once again, this was one of those recordings that I couldn't track down a date, but from the sound of Yujiro Ishihara's（石原裕次郎）voice, his cover may have been come from the late 1960s or 1970s. Finding out about all these different covers of this song, I've come to realize that despite all of them being in the same genre of Mood Kayo, they can each have their own individual arrangement. In Ishihara's case, there is quite the nightclub feeling, thanks to that boozy sax and the caressing/echoing vocals by The Tough Guy. The tumbler of Old Parr is on its way!
Last but certainly not least, there is Sachiko Nishida's（西田佐知子）cover of "Ginza Blues". This time, according to the notes for the YouTube video, I was able to find out that her version was a part of her 1969 album"Koi wo Utau"（恋を唄う...Sing of Love）. Plus, her vocals lend a refreshing and "the night is still young" lightness to the proceedings, as if the setting were a pre-dinner visit to a bar instead of the after-dinner nightclub. The songwriter Domei Suzuki had also provided Nishida with another Mood Kayo classic, the 1965 "Akasaka no Yoru wa Fukete"（赤坂の夜は更けて）, a tribute to another swinging area of Tokyo nightlife.
Because of money and the fact that I remain a very light drinker, I never really imposed myself into bar culture anywhere in Tokyo including Ginza and Akasaka, but at least, there were still a number of good cafes to inhabit, including Cozy Corner. Still appreciate the cakes there.
*The lyricist's name has a number of readings for both family and first names so I've taken a wild guess here. If someone knows the correct reading for him, please let me know. Also, Akira Kurosawa & Los Primos（黒沢明とロス・プリモス）have also given their contribution to this song.
Saw these two Frank Nagai（フランク永井）chestnuts last night on YouTube and both were interesting, so I've decided to kill two birds with one stone here.
This isn't one of the early songs by the Master of Mood Kayo in his career since by this point, Nagai had been in the business for around five years, but I would like to introduce "Tokyo Cachito" from October 1960, a spicy number that was written by Takao Saeki（佐伯孝夫）and composed by Tadashi Yoshida（吉田正）. When I first saw the title, I assumed that cachito referred to either a type of dance or a cocktail. However, when I checked the linguistic banks, I discovered that it was Spanish for "a little bit", so I gather that the title could mean "A Little Bit of Tokyo".
Well, according to Saeki's lyrics for this Latin slice from Mood Kayo, the little bit of Tokyo refers to Akasaka which has been the neighbourhood of high-class clubs, bars and Korean restaurants. Basically, it's been a rival to Ginza but I guess that it was a pretty enviable spot back in the early postwar era as well. Of course, Nagai croons about life and love in the tony district with the same sort of arrangement that would be afforded to groups like The Mahina Stars and Los Primos. Because of his age at the time, Nagai has a certain lightness in his vocals which kinda takes things into the night sky overlooking Akasaka rather than keep them in the smoky confines of a bar there.
One reason for bringing two for the price of one, so to speak, is that I not only wanted to distinguish the different times but also the different styles. "Roppongi Waltz", which was the first of his four singles released in 1985 (February), the final year that he released original singles (he tried to commit suicide in October; he survived but was left with permanent brain damage), is a song that I would consider to be Mood Kayo as well but it does straddle the line between that genre and a form of sophisticated pop.
Written by the legendary Yu Aku（阿久悠）and composed by Yoshida again (one of his final works for Nagai), "Roppongi Waltz" doesn't quite sound as if it belongs in the area since Roppongi is still a fairly raucous neighbourhood, and this particular song is quite genteel with the seasoned and almost-cooing vocals by the singer and the soft female chorus backing him up. In fact, I would probably have re-titled it "Shirokane Waltz" after the very wealthy and quiet vicinity of Shirokane in Minato Ward in Tokyo. I only know it because a couple of my students once took me out to lunch at a French restaurant there. But getting back to the point, the waltz seems to be making the point of wistful and graceful aging (thanks to those tender strings), with a husband and wife who've been married for decades having a fun little trip over the dance floor. The fact that it was one of his final singles lends some more poignancy.
Quite some time ago I got a re-released 2011 version of Hachiro Kasuga's Osaka song album, "Kasuga Hachiro Osaka wo Utau" (春日八郎 大阪を歌う... Originally known as "Osaka Joucho" (大阪情緒)). I was aware that the album contained both his original works as well as covers, but the jewel case description and lyric booklet, being the "most helpful" one I'd ever come across, had me doing a guessing game to see which was which. Some were straightforward, like "Soemoncho Blues" (宗右衛門町ブルース), but some had me absolutely clueless - "Pat, I'd like to buy a vowel."
Case in point, "Osaka Gurashi". It was the first track in the album and the first I listened to as I ripped the CD on to my laptop. When I heard the smooth synths sliding at a leisurely pace, it came across as a typical enka song that's easy on the ears. Coupled with the effortless way Hachi hits those notes at polar ends of the a couple of octaves, "Osaka Gurashi" sounded like the quintessential Kasuga-bushi. However, for some reason, in spite of how much I liked it, I found that he sounded quite awkward at times. Certain portions, like the last stanza, which I felt should have a gruffer, manlier edge - because, y'know, Osaka pride - sounded so tame in Kasuga's modulated delivery. So I begged to differ on the full-on Kasuga-bushi and thought of someone more... abrasive. Hideo Murata (村田英雄) popped in, but at the same time he didn't seem to fit the bill.
And then I finally decided to not be lazy and unravel this mystery by looking up "Osaka Gurashi" online. The first result brought up the Mood Kayo crooner with the voice of velvet, Frank Nagai (フランク永井). Because of my aforementioned impression of the song, I quite literally went, "Whaaat? For real?" But other results said loud and clear that Nagai was, indeed, the original singer.
I listened to his rendition still rather skeptical, but I assented when the music hit my ears. Unlike Kasuga's cover, Nagai's arrangement had a slower tempo that, I suppose, can be likened to the languid flow of the many waterways that criss-cross Osaka, and a heavy emphasis on the horns which, coupled with Nagai's soft vocals, gives an overall nostalgic atmosphere to "Osaka Gurashi". With it sounding like this, I could more or less understand how this was under Nagai's repertoire. However, objectively, I still do prefer Hachi's take, which I wish was available online so that I could show you guys what I mean.
Anyway, "Osaka Gurashi" was made in 1964 with its music composed by Masao Ono (大野正雄). Writing the words was Takeo Ishihama (石浜恒夫), and it's as Osaka as one can get with places like the renowned Hozenji Yokocho, the strange-looking Tsutenkaku tower, and the Shogi whiz Sankichi Sakata being thrown into the mix. Being as it is, I'm quite surprised that it's not as well-known a Go-touchi song (ご当地ソング) as something like "Osho" (王将) or "Tsuki no Hozenji Yokocho" (月の法善寺横町).
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As with most of Nagai's songs, "Osaka Gurashi" had been covered by actor-singer Makoto Fujita (藤田まこと). Frankly, I also do prefer Fujita's version to the original as his gritty and guttural delivery does fit bill better - I suppose he was the one my brain was trying to find when I was playing my "Who Sang This Song?" guessing game.
Performing a tangent from yesterday's anecdote about midnight life in Tokyo, one hot Friday evening in July 1999, a bunch of us caught the very first showing in Japan (of course, at 12:00 am) of the first "Star Wars" prequel, "The Phantom Menace" in Shinjuku. The movie already had its grand premiere Stateside some weeks beforehand, so I had heard about some of the negativity surrounding it.
I couldn't quite believe the hoopla surrounding us as we waited those few hours. The media was out in full force (no pun intended) with reporters, TV cameras and helicopters worthy of a presidential visit, and virtually everyone except us dressed up as Jedi, Sith or stormtroopers. Ironically, we in our suits were the freaks. Anyways, we saw "The Phantom Menace" and after getting out of the theatre, I suddenly came down with a bad case of desperate rationalization. And judging from some of the other folks who exited with me, I wasn't the only one. I think the above scene of the final encounter between the Jedi and Darth Maul was the one highlight.
But to wrap up this part, it was about past 2 am when we got back into the wilds of Shinjuku, so of course, the subways and trains were all shuttered, and taking a taxi back home would have required way too much yen. As a result, we all decided to hit an all-night ramen joint on the walk up to Takadanobaba and after that, some of us went to an all-night café until the Tokyo Metro was back up and running. I was just happy that all of this happened on the cusp of a weekend.
While listening to Taeko Kawabe's（川辺妙子）"Midnight Tokyo" that I would write about yesterday, I found another "Midnight Tokyo" sung by Frank Nagai（フランク永井）. My initial assumption had been that it was a cover for the Kawabe original, but no such animal. The only similarity is the title.
Nagai's "Midnight Tokyo" is an April 1971 single whose lyrics by Jun Hashimoto（橋本淳）relate the trials and tribulations of human relationships in the swankier parts of the big city. Meanwhile, Tadashi Yoshida's（吉田正）melody is a particularly swinging Mood Kayo. Just imagine Nagai with a trench coat slung over his shoulder with a hat positioned at a rakish angle on his head, and he would be in the perfect mood to sing this one. There's something quite Sinatra about this "Midnight Tokyo".
I could only wish that I had looked that dapper after watching "The Phantom Menace". Instead, I was in pretty good need of a shower to wash away the smell of ramen and cinematic disappointment.
Through the usual browsings of YouTube, I encountered some Frank Nagai（フランク永井）tunes so I wondered what his debut single was.
At first thought, I had assumed that it would be some sort of crooning Mood Kayo since he was the master of the genre. However, his first song recorded was actually an English/Japanese cover of the Oscar Hammerstein II/Sigmund Romberg standard "Lover, Come Back to Me", first published in 1928 and covered in Japan as "Koibito yo, Ware ni Kaere". Nagai's version was released in October 1955 and includes Japanese lyrics by Seiichi Iida（井田誠一）.
What got it noticed by me was Nagai's voice. I was already accustomed to his velvety vocals in some of those Mood Kayo classics such as "Yurakucho de Aimashou" (有楽町で逢いましょう）and "Tokyo Nightclub"（東京ナイトクラブ）, but hearing him sing in English and with an arrangement that made his "Koibito yo, Ware ni Kaere" sound like some of the sweet music from at least a couple of decades prior, I gained further appreciation of his talent. Whoever was taking care of him and the recording must have rubbed their hands in glee.
This article is not only a feature on the debut of Frank Nagai but also a follow-up. Actually, I did write something about "Koibito yo, Ware ni Kaere" back last October as it was covered by a number of Japanese singers. That article included jazz singer Mari Nakamoto（中本マリ）as she went for an unusual computer music collaboration with technopop gods Yellow Magic Orchestra.
However over here, I am now featuring the native of Sendai in her own element of swing jazz doing a lively version of "Lover, Come Back to Me". I'm pretty sure that Nakamoto has performed the song countless times over her career and provided recordings in her many albums but I did find one such recording in her "Montreux The Best '78" from 1978.
As mentioned in my Wakadaisho museumarticle, I was also in Japan for about a week and a half in the earlier half of this month. During that span of time, I managed to visit a few plaques dedicated to kayokyoku, and so I would like to share what I got to see.
Could only get that one bit of it on camera.
I shall begin with the first location, the millennia-old Yatate no Sugi (矢立の杉) in the mountains of Kuronoda Village, somewhere in Yamanashi's Koshu region. I can thank Ryotaro Sugi (杉良太郎) for the tip via his song of the same name for this attraction that's far off the beaten track. Well, it fulfilled Dad's hopes of natural environments, peace and quiet, and no rowdy tourists, that's for sure. In fact, we were the only people there. It was quite refreshing to take in the crisp, fresh air there, and it was a magnificent sight to see this enormous tree standing above its friends that were all tiny and skinny in comparison. That makes me wonder how does this compare to the Jomon Sugi in Yakushima much further down south. There is a legend about how samurai would shoot arrows into the tree for good luck in battle eons ago which I've talked about in my article on the song a while back, so you can check it out here.
For the plaque, there was a crank machine beside it that you had to turn 20 times to get background information on it (in Japanese) or Sugi's "Yatate no Sugi". I went for the latter to get the beautiful song reverberating through the forest. There were quite a bit of emotions bubbling around in me when Sugi sang the lines from "Tabibito yo..." to the end of the stanza. I suppose it was because I was actually there and, well, I am a traveler from foreign lands who had made it all the way to Koshu's Sasago Toge, to the tree that Sugi had recommended to visit when one was drained... I was glad to have gone there. Would've loved to hear the whole song there as the second stanza is what I can better relate to, but the machine was on the temperamental side - oh well. The video above shows what it'd be like to be there.
Alright, before I get too sentimental, let's move on to the next area on the itinerary, Amagi in the onsen haven Izu, Shizuoka. Following our stop at Yuzo Kayama's museum, another place that I had recommended, considering we had nothing else planned for the day, was Joren Falls in Amagi, North of Dogashima and on the way back to Yamanashi. We'd spend a few hours at the museum, and it being winter and all, the sun was setting by the time we headed to one of Japan's Top 100 waterfalls. There was a bit of worrying as to whether we'd make it on time to see the other natural landmark at last light, but thankfully we did - barely. People were leaving by the time we got there, but I was bent on getting a close up look at the waterfall and the plaque of one of the most iconic enka songs, Sayuri Ishikawa's (石川さゆり) "Amagi Goe" (天城越え). And so, I trotted all the way down to the plunge pool behind Dad to see it and the wasabi plantations. My brother followed eventually, but Mom, knowing her limits, stayed up on the hill.
Well, there weren't much sentiments there as compared to the Yatate no Sugi, mostly because I was exhausted upon reaching the destination. T'was a pretty waterfall, though, and I'm sure it would've been a more spectacular view if there were more light.
The "Amagi Goe" plaque was on the faded side and it was difficult trying to decipher what chunk of the song was etched into the metal on the mossy rock, but it begins at "Nemidarete kakure yado tsuzura ori Joren no taki..." all the way to the titular "Amagi goe". Even Ishikawa's picture was barely visible.
I was satisfied with seeing the plaque and playing that portion of song in my head, but the absolute nightmare was climbing back up the horrendous amount of uneven stairs. My athletic younger brother and Dad, who's still in the midst of an exercise and diet streak, thought it'd be a great idea to race each other to the top. Needless to say, the unhealthy person that I am was left behind. Alone. In the semi-darkness. In the forest. Presumably left for the kappas to feast on. I saw a sign around Amagi. Didn't know what it said but there was a kappa on it, so there must've been one or two skulking around the wasabi. I mean, I know these river yokai like to eat children, but I was still 3 days away from turning 20; a non-picky kappa might not have minded sinking its teeth into something on the tougher side. Eventually, after an arduous climb, I made it up alive with no kappa gnawing at my ankles, albeit on the verge of falling face first into the rocks. Most cardio I'd done in a long, long time.
Wasabi field.
Anyway, those have been the plaques that I had managed to wheedle my way into seeing during our time in and around Yamanashi - well, again, not like we had any other thing to visit, so it was a win-win situation for me. The next couple were impromptu visits as I only remembered one of its existence and happened upon the other while in Ginza.
The last time we were in Ginza was 7 years ago during part of a package tour. Not much of the posh part of Tokyo was explored then as such tours only bring you to tax-free department stores where you'd spend your 2 hour time limit. A then 13 year-old me was more into looking at toys too - I mean, I still kind of do like looking at toys because, come on, TOYS - and as such, the rest of Ginza, save for a tiny fraction of its main street with the recognizable Wako clock tower, was left unexplored. Fast forward to now with a considerably more adventurous spirit that still isn't that all that enamored with shopping (non-grocery/music/book stuff), I was game to see what more Ginza had to offer. After all, I'd been hearing a lot more than just Burberry Blue (I think the label's been changed already) or Mitsukoshi in Mood Kayo songs.
One thing that fascinated me more than it probably should've was the presence of willow trees. I had never noticed it on my previous trips there, but the MK songs kept mentioning them, so finally seeing Ginza Hacchome (銀座八丁目) or something like that lined with said foliage thoroughly amused me - yes, I think I've already established somewhere in KKP that I'm very easily amused.
ALL THE YANAGI.
Something else that intrigued me was that the moment you turned into a side street, the number of tourists dramatically decreased. Perhaps the branded shops there didn't boast the tax-free sticker on their front windows. This, I realised, was Ginza's slightly less glamorous side where all the bars were. Strangely, I felt a different air there than on the mad main street.
Coming back to the music plaques. How I remembered that there was an iconic MK plaque somewhere around this district was seeing this one song carved into a block of stone a little further down Hacchome. I don't know what song it showed; perhaps someone could shed some light on it? Looks like "Ginza Yanagi" to me, but I've never heard of anything like it.
It then dawned on me that Yujiro Ishihara's biggest hit "Ginza no Koi no Monogatari" (銀座の恋の物語), a duet with Junko Makimura (牧村旬子), was immortalized in the area. It's a song that had been stuck in my head many times and I had sat through the terrible movie just to see what all the fuss was about. In other words, I had to check out it out. I wasn't sure where it sat, all I knew was that it was somewhere around Nishi-Ginza's Chance Center, all the way on the other side of Ginza from where we were (the plaque above). With that, Mom and I slowly crawled back the way we came.
It got a bit disorienting at the Chance Center as there were tonnes of people lining up for the 10 billion yen jackpot prize - that day was considered to be a lucky day - and we had some trouble locating the "Gin-Koi" plaque. However, the bonus that I spotted on Google Maps and easily found in the same area, was the rock that etched in Frank Nagai's (フランク永井) "Yurakucho de Aimashou" (有楽町で逢いましょう). Personally, I'm not a big fan of this hit, but it was nice to have found it and to have found out that Yurakucho was that close to Ginza.
Yeah, I couldn't really see what was on it as it was dark by then. Even the camera's flash couldn't pick up much, but written in the stone was the song's first stanza, if I'm not wrong.
After a bit of walking back and forth and wondering if the plaque was being blocked by the mountain of people trying their luck at the prize money, Mom found it in front the center's department store.
Written on it was the first stanza of "Ginza no Koi no Monogatari", easily one kayokyoku most synonymous with Tokyo I know - and yet I (ironically) forgot about it until I was there. For some reason, I found it cool or, I suppose, shibui, reading the lyrics standing in Ginza. I'm such a music nerd. And that marked the end of my kayo plaque hunt. Quite fitting, I must say.
