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.
Good morning to all and holiday greetings to both Canadians and Japanese. We've got Canadian Thanksgiving here today while in Japan, it's Sports Day.
NHK's "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新BS日本の歌）was back on the schedule after a slight hiatus so we got some of the old kayo kyoku back in our ears. One of the first songs on the slate was a 1953 enka by singer-actor Kokichi Takada（高田浩吉）. Now, almost a decade ago, I first posted about the Hyogo Prefecture-born Takada through his 1955 entry "Meigetsu Sataro Gasa"（名月佐太郎笠）regarding the ronin Sataro who roamed the countryside. The song was written by lyricist Naomi Matsuzaka（松坂直美）and composed by the legendary Masao Koga（古賀政男）.
Well, that 1953 song apparently had a younger version of Sataro in the area of Izu. Titled "Izu no Sataro" (Sataro of Izu), it had a couple of different but also very famous songwriters of the time, lyricist Yaso Saijo（西條八十）and composer Gento Uehara（上原げんと）. When compared to the later song, "Meigetsu Sataro Gasa", "Izu no Sataro" sounds more urgent and industrious in a "I gotta do what I gotta do" way while "Meigetsu Sataro Gasa" has a more content and laidback nature as if Sataro may finally have found some peace and quiet at last.
I heard this one on a recent episode of "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新・BS日本のうた...Songs of Japanese Spirit） and found out that it had originally been sung by Ichiro Kanbe（神戸一郎）. He first came to KKP's attention back in October 2022 when I wrote about his "Nagoya Blues"（名古屋ブルース）which was released in 1971.
This time around, that song that I heard on the NHK kayo kyoku show is "Juu-dai no Koi Sayonara"(Farewell, My Teen Love) which happens to Kanbe's debut single from December 1957. He was still a teen when he released his first song (and yup, he cut quite the dashing figure on that cover) and yet, his vocals showed off a fairly more mature-than-expected quality which probably made him quite the crooner from the get-go. Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, compared to the somewhat despair-sounding "Nagoya Blues", there is a bit more bittersweet yet hopeful vibe from "Juu-dai no Koi Sayonara" in a que sera sera fashion. I'm a bit torn on whether this would be now considered an enka ballad or a straight kayo kyoku, though, especially since enka wouldn't enter officially enter the Japanese lexicon until the early 1970s.
Fune ga tsuku hi ni sakaseta hana wo (A flower allowed to blossom on the day the ship docked)
Fune ga deru yoru chirasu kaze (A scattering wind on the night the ship leaves)
If I had 100 yen for every time these couple of lines ran through my head between September and December 2022, I'd probably be able to purchase at least 10 bromides. At least. I listened to their source so much that I ended up going from simply appreciating its presence to actually liking it, making it the first song I used for academic purposes to gain this accolade... That felt weird to say.
For posterity.
To give some context, my undergraduate thesis featured enka (of course, it did), and in it, I studied (or, at least, I attempted to study) how social inequality and class differences could’ve been perpetuated through the lyrics of popular enka songs from the Showa era. I set myself up to pick and study tunes (22 in total) that revolved around certain themes including poverty, blue-collar jobs, and an itinerant lifestyle. Since I stated “popular enka songs”, it’d be a crime if I left out the biggest star of that period and the Queen of Kayokyoku: Hibari Misora (美空ひばり). Sifting through her dozens of smash hits and skimming through their lyrics, I finally found the one that fit my criteria: “Minato Machi Jusan Banchi”. It’s an enka featuring the sailor life, it was one of her hits, I actually knew it - perfect. Honestly, that search gave me a bigger headache than I was expecting.
First released on 10th March 1957 and posthumously on 1st July 1991, “Minato Machi Jusan Banchi” was written by one of the songwriting power duos of the early Showa era, Miyuki Ishimoto (石本美由起) and Gento Uehara (上原げんと) - my impression is that a hatoba (wharf) or madorosu (sailor) tune by them likely turned out to be a banger. According to the J-Wiki, the Japan Record Association's magazine "THE RECORD", it was ranked as Colombia Record's (the company Misora belonged to) No.1 best-seller of the year in a rankings chart that featured the year's best-selling records per record company.
The original version. That plucky banjo really screams madorosu kayo.
On top of that, this well-loved sailor number became tangible to fans and train commuters when a whole entire train station was dedicated to it. As this Sponichi article from 2013 stated, the renewal of the Keikyu Daishi Line's almost century-old Minatocho station had been centred around “Minato Machi Jusan Banchi”. Now aptly nicknamed the "Hibari Eki" (Hibari station), it has the full works: At the South entrance sits its music plaque (her 8th song plaque nationwide) with a 148cm life-size model of the spunky singer and her to-scale handprint where you can also play one chorus's worth of the song to your heart's content; the station's jingle is the song; one of the platforms has its musical score with a cute illustration of a harbour view. It's every fan's dream. I'm more than inclined to agree with Hibari's son, Kazuya Kato (加藤和也), in saying that his mother would be amazed to see that this much thought had been put into representing a song she seemed to have personally enjoyed in the area so significant to her (she's a Kanagawa native).
The creation of "Minato Machi Jusan Banchi" was an interesting one too. For starters, it features the earlier mentioned industrial port town of Minatocho. This town was also where the Japan branch and record-making factory of Colombia Records were first established in 1910, and it was intended for its location on block 9 (kyubanchi) to be the song's setting. Ishimoto, however, decided to go with block 13 (jusan banchi) as it rolled off the tongue better. As a quintessential go-touchi song would, this jaunty romp into the Kawasaki-Yokohama area also included subtle nods to places like Yamashita Park and Bashamichi.
The jazzy twist in this recording (from the 70s?) makes it my favourite version.
Earlier this year, I decided to do a song plaque pilgrimage to the Minatocho station since, as talked about at the start, Hibari's cheery madorosu tune was quite a significant part of the biggest project I'd done thus far. Plus, it was comparatively nearer to my home base than others, so it'd only be natural to pay it a visit. While Hibari had been more of a figure I respected than truly loved, this and a later experience at her house-turned-museum in Tokyo's Meguro did cause quite a bit of a shift in that dynamic. It's hard to describe, but seeing her beaming right at me after the approximately 1.5-hour journey to Kawasaki and hearing "Minato Machi Jusan Banchi" right there and then, I felt accomplished (?)
(Sorry but the video has been taken down.)
"Minato Machi Jusan Banchi" had been covered by countless singers over the decades, but I thought it'd be nice to round off the article with a lovely collaboration between Hibari and Sabu-chan. Sabu-chan's rustic delivery really added that grassroots flavour to the tune.
Over the past few days, I've been hearing that the Kanto region including Tokyo was going to get walloped by the white stuff, but it looks like the megalopolis may have avoided a huge snowy bullet according to NHK's report today. I've been informed that Tokyo used to get snow more frequently in decades past, but during my time there, wintry precipitation was quite rare, and in amounts far smaller than what I'm accustomed to here in my native Toronto, even a couple of centimetres of snow would be enough to have Japan Railways go to Red Alert.
As such, I'd been thinking about putting up a meteorologically appropriate song on KKP tonight but I realized that I'd already put up Cheuni's（チェウニ）"Tokyo ni Yuki ga Furu"（Tokyoに雪が降る）a few years ago, and then when I settled for anything on Tokyo, I also found out that I'd also already posted "Tokyo"（東京）by the folk trio My Pace（マイ・ペース）back in 2018.
Well, then I decided to punch into the Yahoo.jp search engine anything to do with Tokyo-based kayo. I did receive a number of results, one of which was Haruo Oka's（岡晴夫）"Tokyo Chanson". Good choice there, too, since Oka has provided some songs regarding my old stomping grounds such as "Tokyo no Hanauri Musume"（東京の花売娘）and "Tokyo no Sora, Aoi Sora"（東京の空青い空）.
Not sure whether I would place "Tokyo Chanson", which was an October 1947 single by Oka, as an actual chanson, although admittedly my knowledge on the melodic style of the French musical genre is extremely limited. It is a gently upbeat kayo though as Oka sings about seeing the girl of his dreams at some stage play for the first time. I'm wondering whether he was watching a Takarazuka Revue performance since I believe the nationally famous all-women troupe has come up with musicals set in France, and the title is, after all, "Tokyo Chanson". Anyways, Shizuo Yoshikawa（吉川静夫）and Gento Uehara（上原げんと）were responsible for words and music respectively. Additionally, I also hope that Kanto residents are doing their best with the storm; as someone who has also gone through one of the Top 10 most powerful snowstorms in Toronto's history almost a month ago, I do feel their pain.
Unfortunately, I was given the news that another famous person in Japan succumbed to COVID-19 earlier this morning at the age of 81. He wasn't a comedian or an actor but actually a chef named Toshiro Kandagawa（神田川俊郎）. I hadn't heard from him for years but back in the 1990s when Fuji-TV's original "Ryori no Tetsujin"（料理の鉄人...The Iron Chefs） was captivating viewers within and outside of Japan, Kandagawa was a fairly frequent guest and gadfly who bumped heads and philosophies with the Iron Chefs themselves and even beat them in the Kitchen Stadium.
As I remember him, he was a feisty competitor known for his strict adherence to classic Japanese cooking styles according to his Wikipedia entry, and I was struck by the commentary that he had been seen as the equivalent of the heel in wrestling matches. Still, I'm hoping that much of the boisterous competition that was shown between Kandagawa and Iron Japanese Chef Rokusaburo Michiba（道場六三郎）was kept within the Stadium and that they were friendly in real life. I can only imagine what Kandagawa's feelings about Dragon Rolls and some of that neo sushi must have been, though (I'm perfectly fine with those).
I couldn't find anything on his J-Wikipedia article about anything that he liked in kayo kyoku, but in tribute to him and also to a new friend I made on Discord earlier today who has a liking for enka and Mood Kayo, I decided to find something appropriate. Of course, I'm uncertain whether Kandagawa was a Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）fan, but I have discovered "Edokko Sushi", which, honestly speaking, I only became aware of today.
A 1958 single written by Yaso Saijo（西條八十）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, it's lightly sung in the higher register by Misora as she talks about the joy of making the sushi for the regulars in the restaurant, presumably Tokyo because of that first word in the title: Edokko. According to the Wikipedia entry, Edokko can be defined in two ways:
1) One who was born and raised in Edo/Tokyo to parents who both were also born and raised in Edo/Tokyo. (If one parent was not born and raised in Edo/Tokyo, then the child would not be a true Edokko, and was called madara ["mottled"].)
2) One who was born and raised in Edo/Tokyo to a family lineage spanning back three or four generations in Edo/Tokyo.
In any case, I would like to make certain that Kandagawa was actually born in Kyoto, the other former capital of Japan. My condolences to his family.
Not quite sure how I found out about this particular kayo but I figure that it must have popped up during one of the taped segments from NHK's "Uta Kon"（うたコン）a few weeks ago.
In addition, I'm also not 100% sure whether this song "Bibou no Miyako" (City of Beauty) would fall under enka or a kayo but let's split the difference and consider it both for now. The song was the theme for the titular melodrama movie released in March 1957 about the complications of love among a few folks within a small Osaka factory.
Sung by the main male lead, actor/TV personality Akira Takarada（宝田明）, "Bibou no Miyako" comes across as a combination of a slow march and a love song crooned by a band singer from the 1930s. It was written by Yaso Saijo（西條八十）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）. Takarada's J-Wiki article doesn't have him listed as a singer at all and there is no discography although he sings one more song in the movie, but I think he acquits himself quite well behind the mike.
(Sorry but the video has been taken down.)
The man looks quite dashing in his tuxedo above and "Bibou no Miyako" here has a pretty nice Mood Kayo arrangement.
Takarada has also been immortalized thanks to a role that he had a few years earlier as salvage ship captain Hideto Ogata in the original "Godzilla"(1954). He's even appeared in the various sequels including the Hollywood retake of the monster in 2014. Godzilla is pretty much everyone's favourite semi-friendly kaiju now but can you imagine folks watching the trailer above for the first time? It probably would have had the same effect as audiences seeing the trailer for the very first "Alien" in 1979.
I was watching a recent episode of "Uta Kon"（うたコン）and a poignant enka was performed about a couple of old buddies meeting for the first time in a few years and having a long-awaited drink at a watering hole. Try to imagine back in the early postwar period when Japan was trying to get back onto its feet again with people just trying to regain some of that order from the chaos. I could envision that some friendships may have been detached for several years only for them to be rejoined, perhaps even stronger than ever.
Perhaps that was the point with "Aitakattaze" (Really Wanted To See You) as sung by Haruo Oka（岡晴夫）. According to J-Wiki, this was most likely the final single that was released by the crooner back in July 1955 because illness crept back into his life again (he would pass away in May 1970 at the age of 54). The commentary in that article indicated that this song proved to be another hit for him.
According to the video here, the footage shown of Oka performing "Aitakattaze" was actually from 1970 so the uploader mentions that this may have been the final time of him appearing in front of a camera. Considering the melancholy music by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）and the tenderhearted lyrics by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）, Oka's performance above takes on an even more enhanced poignancy.
When I was translating those travel articles, some of those included those for river tours out in the regional areas of Japan with the traditional boatmen steering their wooden boats skillfully through the rougher patches of the waterways.
It was those scenes that came to mind when I heard the enka ballad "Koi no Sendo-san" (Boatman in Love). This was actually sung by the enka legend known for decades as Hiroshi Itsuki（五木ひろし）but his 3rd single from August 1965 was released under his first stage name Masaru Matsuyama（松山まさる）.
Written by Toshio Oka（丘灯至夫）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, the delivery by the singer who would later be known as Itsuki has that youthful smoothness for the lack of a better expression, but the lad was only 17 years old at the time. Still, considering that he was still three years away from being officially recognized as an adult in Japan, his voice is still remarkably rich and steady as if it were from a singer a decade older.
The lyrics by Oka relate the story of a young boatman, having taken on the duties formerly performed by his father, falling for a beautiful passenger who takes a ride under his charge. He then spots her at a festival and falls for her head-over-heels. There's no report on whether the song inspired any movie but the setting sounds like a perfect source for a screenplay. I also don't know how the song did in terms of sales but of course, the best was yet to come for the man who was born Kazuo Matsuyama（松山数夫）.
Tonight's "Uta Con"（うたコン）reminded me that today is the birthday of the Queen of Kayo Kyoku, Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）. I think this may be the very first time that I have ever written a song on the blog about Misora that actually landed on her birthday. She would have been 81 years old today.
Well, let's go with a good one. I looked up her article on J-Wiki and found the song that she performed on her first NHK Kohaku Utagassen appearance in 1954 which was the 5th annual show. "Hibari no Madorosu-san"(Hibari's Sailor) was a song released in May of that year, and according to the J-Wiki article, this particular number itself is a special one in that it has been treated as the very first of the "madorosu"kayo(didn't know that there was such a sub-genre). Apparently, Misora would release some more of those sailor-themed tunes along with other singers.
Lyricist Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composer Gento Uehara（上原げんと）created "Hibari no Madorosu-san" as a fairly gentle but cheerful song about Misora admiring her favourite sailor on the ship. Considering that the singer was born in the port city of Yokohama, the song was a good fit for her.
According to Nippon Columbia, the recording company responsible for the song, as of 1998, "Hibari no Madorosu-san" sold around 900,000 records. Misora's final appearance on the Kohaku was in 1979 in a special guest capacity, and she performed that very song as the first in a medley. As for the expression madorosu, it originated from the Dutch or Flemish word matroos.
Usually after the broadcast of "Uta Kon"（うたコン）here on TV Japan, there is a 10-minute segment originally shown on NHK called "Ano Hito ni Aitai"（あの人に会いたい...I Want to Meet That Person）which features notable Japanese people from all walks of life who have left this mortal coil. Last night was focused on the actor Hiroki Matsukata（松方弘樹）who had passed away last year at the age of 74.
I was surprised and saddened when I heard about Matsukata's death since his face was a very regular one on TV for the years that I had lived in Japan and even before that on rental videos. He played one of the most ferocious-looking mobsters in the "Battles Without Honor or Humanity"yakuza series but I also got to know him as the wise hotel manager of the oh-so-80s drama "Hotel". And of course, there are the many commercials he starred in.
One of the interesting things that I got from the tribute to Matsukata on "Ano Hito ni Aitai" was through one interview he did in which he spoke about his early years in the 1960s. He had initially wanted to become a pop singer and actually trained under songwriter Gento Uehara（上原げんと）. The actor had thought that he wasn't too bad a singer compared to some of the other young up-and-comers of the time but then, one day, the appearance of one particular man and his talent brought Matsukata's confidence down like shattered glass. From that point onward, he decided to head on the path of the thespian.
Still, although he would never be a full-time professional singer, Matsukata did put out singles now and then over the decades, including this one in 1993 which was created by enka singer Ikuzo Yoshi（吉幾三）."Hana no Uchi ni"(Among the Flowers) was the ending theme song for a long-running jidai geki TV show titled "Mei Bugyo: Tohyama no Kin-san"（名奉行 遠山の金さん...Famed Magistrate: Kin-san of Tohyama） that Matsukata starred in for about a decade as a heroic peace officer with a penchant for disguises.
"Hana no Uchi ni" certainly sounds heroic in itself with the urgent strings although a lot of the melody is quite gentle with the shakuhachi (?) and Matsukata's delivery. Perhaps the ballad is reflecting the two sides of the title character with Kin-san not resorting to the rough stuff unless absolutely necessary. Hmm...quite Jedi-like.
Although I didn't ever become an ardent follower of Kin-san, I remember his signature move which was to expose his tattooed right shoulder. Kinda reminds me of the inevitable scene in "Mito Komon"（水戸黄門）when the jig is up and that amazing crest is shown to the bad guys' awe and horror.
Ah, before I forget...as for that young lad who scared Matsukata away from singing back in the 1960s? He would have a very long and successful career as Hiroshi Itsuki（五木ひろし）! Heck, "Ano Hito ni Aitai" even showed the two of them together performing a duet on a music show. Too bad I can't find any of that footage on the Net.
Tonight's "Uta Con"（うたコン）had been advertised for its tribute to kayo legend Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）who would have been 80 years old yesterday. So it was somewhat disappointing that the so-called tribute was limited to a dramatic vignette starring some well-respected actors and just a couple of Hibari hits performed by the guests without even any full video performances by the lady herself before it became a regular show. In fact, I may go on a mild rant and say that my annoyance was further enhanced on seeing the now-usual clumsy transitions by NHK and "concierge" Shosuke Tanihara（谷原章介）, and some duets which didn't really come off too well.
I have to say though that 12-year-old actress/singer Rio Suzuki（鈴木梨央）gave a charming performance of "Kanashiki Kuchibue"（悲しき口笛）in full tuxedo just like Misora did when she was the same age.
This particular song didn't get onto the broadcast (not too many did), but I found this to be a nice jaunty tune by Misora from March 1957 when she was just a couple of months shy from turning 20. "Minato-machi Juu-san Banchi" (13 Minato-machi) was the singer's own tribute to life along the coast represented by her hometown of Yokohama and neighbouring Kawasaki.
And according to J-Wiki, that title was meant to represent the location of the headquarters and factory of Misora's record company at the time, Nippon Columbia, in Kawasaki although 13 Minato-machi didn't actually exist; Nippon Columbia was actually at 9 Minato-machi.
Whatever the address, "Minato-machi Juu-san Banchi" has that rather carefree feeling of life in a postwar Japan (although the nation was still rebuilding) that was pushing back the days of war and deprivation. The song was written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, and although the title was referring to Nippon Columbia, Misora apparently made some shoutouts in the lyrics to certain places in Yokohama such as Yamashita Park and some of the watering holes in the district of Bashamichi.
Apparently the song was also performed in one of her movies "Aoi Umabara"（青い海原...Blue Ocean）from 1957. The interesting thing is that her co-star was a very young and far less rugged-looking Ken Takakura（高倉健）! As for how the song itself did, Oricon was still a decade away from ranking records but according to a music journal at the time "The Record", "Minato-machi Juu-san Banchi" became the No. 1 record of the year on the Columbia charts.
Returning to my earlier little snit, I realize that there are probably folks out there who feel that perhaps Misora has been treated too much like a goddess on these kayo shows, but I think if anyone is deserving of the status, it would be her. Plus, I think NHK may be a little guilty of false advertising, despite the introduction of that little drama at the beginning.
When I first came to live in the Tokyo area in the mid-1990s, Shinjuku was separated into the gleaming skyscraper area in West Shinjuku and the raucous and slightly grimy East Shinjuku with all sorts of bars, restaurants, department stores and red-light facilities. But about 10 years ago, South Shinjuku suddenly came alive starting with the Takashimaya Times Square complex, and even since my last visit, I've read that things have further developed in the area. But all things start from that central hub, Shinjuku Station.
And I've got a song about that place and by one of the big guns in enka himself, Hiroshi Itsuki（五木ひろし）. In fact, this was his debut as a teenager back in 1965. The thing is, though, that he didn't debut as Hiroshi Itsuki.
To explain, a few nights ago, I wrote an article about singer Shigeo Kusunoki（楠木繁夫）who was known to have 55 stage names. Well, although Itsuki didn't start his long and illustrious career amassing stage names like a stamp collection, he did have a few professional aliases before he finally settled on his most famous name. Born Kazuo Matsuyama（松山数夫）in 1948, he debuted as Masaru Matsuyama（松山まさる）and that debut song was "Shinjuku Eki kara" (From Shinjuku Station).
Written by Tetsuya Furuno（古野哲也）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, "Shinjuku Eki kara" may start out like a Mood Kayo but since the lyrics talk about a trip from Shinjuku Station back to the ol' hometown in the countryside, it quickly reverts to an enka style. The above video is of an Itsuki performance from 2004 on the cusp of his 40th anniversary in show business where he sang all of his very early songs under those various pre-Itsuki names. I was quite impressed actually. I didn't really expect Itsuki to cover all those tunes since they were not only not under his most established name but it didn't look like any of them became hits before his big breakthrough of "Yokohama Tasogare" (よこはま・たそがれ).
The above is a cover version, by the way. Although the pre-Itsuki output didn't result in any hits, I think any of his tunes back then would be worthy of exploration. For the record, between Masaru Matsuyama and Hiroshi Itsuki, the future superstar also went by the names of Eiichi Ichijo（一条英一）and Ken Mitani（三谷謙）.
