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.
To any and all American readers of "Kayo Kyoku Plus", Happy Fourth of July and also a Happy Sestercentennial (250th birthday). I recall that three years ago, I also provided a special list of America-related songs on July the 4th and mentioned that we would have to do something about 2026. Well, the day is here.
And so, this is my "America" Tunes 2. Unlike the first one which mostly dealt with songs that had "America" in their titles, I'm being a bit more geographically precise so I'll be listing those numbers referring specifically to states and cities. Without further ado then:
Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) recorded a lot of cover songs, ranging from Meiji-Taisho enka to early Showa kayo to 1980s pop enka. It's thanks to these covers that I got to learn a fair amount about a wide array of songs, some of which becoming personal favourites. But did you know, that the concept of covering pop songs, produced by record companies, wasn't as commonplace as it is now prior to the late 1960s?
Feel free to correct me if I'm mistaken, but based on my understanding of sources like Yusuke Wajima's (輪島裕介) "Tsukurareta 'Nihon no Kokoro' Shinwa" (創られた「日本の心」神話) (2010), it was due to the old record company contract system from the late 1920s. What this system entailed was that a songwriter or singer, bound to a particular record company by contract, could not provide songs for a different company/sing songs made by a different company. There was also this concept of the mochi uta, where a song made for a singer was theirs and theirs only; to cover another's song (officially) was, I quote from venerable lyricist Kikutaro Takahashi (高橋掬太郎), "akin to betrayal", even if they were from the same company. For instance, Akira Matsudaira (松平晃) would not be able to cover Tadaharu Nakano's (中野忠晴)"China Tango" under most circumstances, even though they were both from Columbia Records. Or Columbia's Mr. Nakano would not have been able to cover King Records' Isao Hayashi's (林伊佐緒) "Kiso Bushi Bolero" (木曽節ボレロ). Rather limiting stuff.
Miura, Hachi, Yukiko Nomura From "Shinobu"
Of course, there were multiple exceptions and there were instances of insane loophole gymnastics. And one of these loopholes would change the record industry game for the better. This watershed moment that got rid of this limiting restriction was Shinichi Mori's (森進一) (Victor) cover album of Masao Koga's (古賀政男) (Columbia) works, "Kage wo Shitaite"(影を慕いて), from 1968. Initially seen as inconceivable, composer Kosho Inomata (猪俣公章) who was the album's director managed to do some insane contract red tape gymnastics and dodging Koga Sensei's initial wrath to get it done. This involved picking only the Koga Melody that did not "belong" to Columbia Records, i.e. those that were from the legendary composer's early Victor and Golden Age Teichiku days. The album's resounding success threw out the stigma around covers and cross-company collaborations. So much so that now it's essentially a given in at least the enka world. I'd go so far as to say that some past kayo have become "must covers"/a rite of passage for any modern day enka singer. Oddly enough, one of these enka rites of passages is doing a Koga Melody cover.
In terms of same company covers, assuming the producers at King Records weren't being hyperbolic, the first full-on same company artist collab album was Hachi and his junior Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也)"Ougon no Utagoe" (黄金の歌声) from 1970. That was where both artists covered about 14 of each others' mochi uta. I believe it was also in 1970 when Kasuga began recording cover songs in earnest.
Anyways, this brief Japanese record industry history tidbit leads me to what I want to feature for my Hachi Centenary Project article: Hachi's cover songs I enjoy. I've always been picky about original singers, but sometimes covers just hit different, sometimes with better arrangements or better vocals. It's with these factors in mind that I share my picks of Hachi covers. At the same time, perhaps these songs may introduce you to some Taisho and Showa era classics, as they did for me. As a side note, I will also mention some of the albums each song is in.
This song is difficult with some intense peaks and dips, but Hachi maneuvers them so effortlessly and smoothly in this classic nagashi/sasurai mono. Maybe folks are right in saying that Hachi is just good at these sort of enka style kayo.
Albums: Showa no Enka Kasuga Hachiro Fukyu no Meisaku wo Utau (昭和の艶歌 春日八郎不朽の名作を歌う) (1971), Kasuga Hachiro Enka Hyaku Sen (春日八郎 演歌百選) (1973)
Hachi said that jazz doesn't fit him and some have said that he couldn't express that jazz feeling. I have to admit that there are some number where I felt that the jazz feeling was lacking a little. But not with this one. Also, it may be a hot take to fans of early Showa Japanese jazz, but this is the best version of "Dotonbori Koshinkyoku" with the best arrangement. I will die on this hill.
A point to note is that Hachi re-recorded this in his 1975 "Kasuga Hachiro no Osaka Jocho" (春日八郎の大阪情緒), but its arrangement was not as raw and... jazzy. The original cover from the 1962 "Taisho/Showa Hayari-uta" (春日八郎の大正・昭和はやり唄) album is the one I'm for.
Albums: Kasuga Hachiro no Taisho/Showa Hayari-uta, Kasuga Hachiro no Osaka Jocho, Kasuga Hachiro Osaka wo Utau (春日八郎 大阪を歌う) (2011)
I praise the creative decision to have Hachi sing the chorus, "Batten Nagasaki __ no machi, mimase yokatoko yori masse" (But Nagasaki's the city of__, c'mon over and check out this fine place... The line is in the Nagasaki/Kyushu dialect), unlike Higuchi's original. Higuchi's wasn't bad, but it just felt lacking to have just the back-up singers handle that crucial bit.
Albums: Kasuga Hachiro no Nagasaki no Jocho (春日八郎の長崎情緒) (1976), Kasuga Hachiro Showa Kayo wo Utau (春日八郎 昭和歌謡を歌う) (2010)
Karisome no Koi (かりそめの恋) (1949) -- Machiko Sanjo (三条町子)
Fun fact: I believe this was one of the songs Hachi saw/hear Mrs. Kasuga, Keiko Watabe (渡部恵子), sing while she was working as a part-time singer at the same restaurant as him back in the day. On a side note, I feel that Hachi's soft, forlorn-tinged voice fits this sort of blues/Mood Kayo-like songs to a T.
Album: Nihon no Uta Meiji/Taisho/Showa Hayari-uta (日本の歌 明治・大正・昭和はやりうた) (1977)
Onna no Kaikyu (女の階級) (1936) -- Shigeo Kusunoki (楠木繁夫)
Of all the songs on this is one of the rare numbers where I enjoy both the original and the cover in equal measure. Anyways, I've read that Koga Sensei wanted "Onna no Kaikyu" to be of a slower pace, contrary to the brisk pace of Kusunoki's original. I think it's in covers like Hachi's where you can hear the composer's intended vision.
Albums: Kasuga Hachiro Koga Melody wo Utau (春日八郎 古賀メロディーを歌う) (1971/1975/1992), Kasuga Hachiro Koga Masao wo Utau (春日八郎 古賀政男を歌う) (1974), Showa no Enka Kasuga Hachiro Fukyu no Meisaku wo Utau, Kasuga Hachiro Enka Hyaku Sen
Palau Koishiya (パラオ恋しや) (1941) -- Haruo Oka (岡晴夫)
Hachi's smooth delivery makes Okapparu's mochi uta more polished, and I think you can feel it in a relaxed tropical island number like "Palau Koishiya". Interestingly enough, even though Kasuga recorded this cover, it wasn't included in his 1977 Oka cover album, "Kasuga Hachiro Oka Haruo wo Utau" (春日八郎 岡晴夫を歌う). Rather it seems to have only been released decades later in 2010 via "Showa Kayo wo Utau". Perhaps they'd already hit the song limit for the 1977 one, so "Palau Koishiya" got dropped.
Fun fact: Okapparu, known for that strident and nasally delivery with large lung capacity, was said to have developed these attributes during his days as an enka shi/nagashi (street musician). Because of the cigarette smog in bars, he learned to sing in this manner to reduce the need for inhaling the smoke and damaging his vocals.
Albums: Kasuga Hachiro Showa Kayo wo Utau
Hoshi no Nagare ni(星の流れに) (1947) -- Akiko Kikuchi (菊池章子)
The hardship of immediate postwar Japan can be felt in this song about the realities of many women who had to turn to working the night to survive. Perhaps it would be more appropriate sung by a woman, but Hachi's voice is more filled with a pained longing than heavy melancholy, which fits the emotions expressed in this song.
Albums: Enka to wa Nandarou Kasuga Hachiro Show (演歌とは何だろう〈春日八郎ショー〉)(1973), Kasuga Hachiro Enka Hyaku Sen, Kasuga Hachiro Showa Kayo wo Utau
Epilogue
Something I noticed when studying the covers Hachi recorded was that he never covered any (Ryoichi) Hattori (服部良一) Melody save for one: Mieko Takamine's (高峰三枝子) "Kohan no Yado" (湖畔の宿) - correct me if I'm wrong. I wonder if it's because R. Hatter was known for jazz and "pop", and thus not fitting with the enka rhetoric in the 70s and 80s.
On a different note, among the other fellas I love, Hachi has covered Akira-san's, Bin Uehara's (上原敏), and Yoshio Tabata's (田端義夫) stuff. As I've said, I can be very picky with covers. As much as I love Hachi, originals win here, especially for Bin-san and Batayan. I'm more forgiving with the Akira-san covers, though. This is because Hachi and Akira-san vaguely share a similar vocal quality in that they are great at conveying forlornness - the difference is that Hachi sounds empathetic while Akira-san sounds needy (purely subjective). So, I thought the former's covers of the latter's hits, "Isoge Horo Basha" (急げ幌馬車) and "Circus no Uta" (サーカスの唄), were pretty good, but the arrangements just fell short.
"Isoge Horo Basha"
But, y'know, a dream Hachi cover of mine is "China Tango". I know I'll regret it because, while I know it'll be good, Hachi has nowhere near the same level of sex appeal as Mr. Nakano to pull it off. But I just want to hear it. Not because it'll be hot, but because I think it'll be kinda funny.
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.
As of late, J-Canuck has been doing a series featuring the various Gosanke (御三家) trios in Japanese music. His article featuring theEnka Sanba Garasu (演歌三羽烏) did catch my attention since it featured the three enka greats: Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎), Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也), and Hideo Murata (村田英雄). It was a little surprising to see that this trio had been given this collective label as I know them as the Sannin no Kai (三人の会). Still, the music industry back in the day did seem to have a thing for labelling a trio of popular male singers as a bunch of ravens/crows. That, then, brought to mind the trio I knew with this very label: Sengo Sanba Garasu (Three Ravens of the Postwar Era).
The Sengo Sanba Garasu include Haruo Oka (岡晴夫), Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫), and Toshiro Omi (近江俊郎). I would argue that they could've also been a Senzen (prewar) Sanba Garasu since they debuted in the 1930s and Okapparu and Batayan had spawned a number of classics in the immediate prewar era. But some of their most recognizable hits did come from the immediate postwar era, including Omi's late breakout single "Yu no Machi Elegy" (湯の町エレジー) from 1948. Those hits seemed to have been a reflection of those living in a devasted nation, encompassing both their sadness and hope in the war's aftermath. With their song, perhaps these ravens served as the harbingers of solace for the many who needed it. Now, if only the crows outside my place sounded as good as these guys.
Y'know, I wonder if there had been a Senzen Sanba Garasu. Even if there wasn't such a trio, I can imagine who'd be the three: Ichiro Fujiyama, Dick Mine, Noboru Kirishima... or Taro Shoji... or Bin Uehara. Okay, the last one may just be favouritism rearing its head.
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.
With 2021 coming to a close, I think it'd be a good time for me to add my own yearly round-up. I had been thinking about some theme I wanted to go with, and rather than a singer specific list, I thought I'd go with a list that narrates significant going-ons I had throughout this bumpy year - when is it ever not, though? Without further ado, let's begin.
Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) -- Ruten no Yoru (流転の夜)
I'd spent the majority of 2020 back in Singapore due to the pandemic, so coming back to Japan exactly a year later in March 2021 needed some readjustments. There was definitely some loneliness (though a lot less than my first year), having to deal with noisy neighbours, and I'd saddled myself with a particularly arduous class that new semester (a few of you might know what I mean...). Basically, it was draining.
Sometimes, particularly at night, be it from out of the window of that old apartment or on strolls through deserted streets in the middle of the night, I would just look up at the night sky. Being in a faraway land and roaming around trying to do my thing, Hachi's "Ruten no Yoru" of an exhausted wandering soul felt oddly fitting and would put me in a reflective mood. The slightly lonesome-sounding flute, delicate strings and Hachi's delicate vocals were the perfect medicine for my frazzled nerves.
Perhaps it's because I'm in a better head-space now and because I'd been hooked by other songs since then, so "Ruten no Yoru" doesn't resonate as strongly as it did half a year ago. Those memories of watching the stars and the feelings I held at the time had become imprinted on this song, though, and it does come back whenever I listen to it now.
I'd mentioned a number of times that sumo is one of the new hobbies I'd acquired. Spectating it, of course. Rallying behind Tochinoshin who I'd seen on NHK news long before understanding the sport; learning archaic sumo terms and practices; watching Terunofuji destroy the competition and become yokozuna on his return from injury - it was all new, weird, and yet oh, so fun! So, it was cathartic when I was able to watch the tournaments live at the Ryogoku Kokugikan when I was back in Japan. The raw power of seeing these giants tackle each other was amazing, and new yokozuna's Teru-chan's dohyo-iri in September was awesome. Plus, I even got a photo with the now-retired Ikioi, a pretty strong fighter with the voice of an enka singer!
Representing this experience is Kiyoshi Hikawa's "Ninjou Toridejuku". Sure, the wrestler presented in this popular tale used in this song is a hapless fool, but the melody that's grand and filled with vigour just fits the sport so well.
Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴)/Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan (東京大衆歌謡楽団) -- China Tango
So, I have this jolly professor whose focus is on China studies and I'd taken a number of his classes this year. From my understanding of international politics in recent years from his classes, it's been nothing but a China Tango... ROLL CREDITS.
My introduction to my new muse (muses?), the ode to early Showa music Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan, was facilitated by Tadaharu Nakano's "China Tango". I'm glad to have come across these Kotaro Takashima and his brothers because not only do they provide fantastic and authentic-sounding covers of ryukoka but through them, my interest in this part of enka/kayokyoku had been revived. In fact, the next few entries had also been introduced by them. They also have the honour of being the first artists below the age of 40 I have really gotten into... if that can be considered an honour at all...
As for "China Tango" itself, for some reason, the premises of the song, its fun tango rhythm and Ko-san's hearty vocals are just so alluring. At the moment, it's probably my favourite cover tune by the quartet. And, as I had mentioned, I was in the midst of that class international politics class while I was getting into the song. Couldn't have asked for better timing.
Bin Uehara (上原敏) -- Tsuma-koi Dochu (妻恋道中)
Cycling is one of my favourite things to do when I'm in Japan. Perhaps it's because I stay out of Tokyo and away from the mad traffic. Plus, living in the suburbs do provide incredibly scenic routes along rivers, through rice fields, and, when weather permits, Mt. Fuji can be seen looming in the distance. In the new area I'm living in, I get longer stretches of uninterrupted routes like these. I do like to sing to myself while doing so, and what better type of song to sing along to on such cycles than some dochu-mono? Somehow, Bin-san's stuff feels the most appropriate. Maybe's it's the minyo element in it? Either way, even though I'm on a modern albeit run-of-the-mill utility bicycle and not trudging around with straw sandals, I can't help but feel like one of those early Edo era travellers humming away to keep oneself entertained on a long journey. Plus, autumn foliage just made everything look 10 times as picturesque.
Bin-san has lots of matatabi enka under his belt, but, as implied in an earlier article, I have a soft spot for "Tsuma-koi Dochu". Have to thank the Takashima brothers for this too, though.
Haruo Oka (岡晴夫) -- Shiawase Wa Ano Sora Kara (幸福はあの空から)
As somewhat of a perfectionist who stresses wanting to live up to expectations, a particularly difficult lesson I had to learn this year was that it is okay to be wrong and not get things right all the time. Of course, I'm still learning how to do so and to apply it to not just school but social interactions as well. But, at the end of the day, things somehow worked themselves out and, to balance out the bad moments of the year, great moments were around the corner... You could even say, the happiness came from the sky. ROLL CREDITS. AGAIN.
Okkapal's "Shiawase Wa Ano Sora Kara" is probably not one of his notable works but with a title like that and the words of hope and endurance embedded in the lyrics, it is quite a pick-me-upper. It's almost as if he's encouraging you to hang on. I reckon everyone needs something like this in this current situation too. Hopefully, things will get better in the coming year.
And with that, we've come to the end of the article. Thanks for making it to the end. I'm not sure if I'll be posting anything between now and the new year, so let me take this opportunity to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Hello, it's been quite a while, hasn't it? How has summer (or winter, depending on your hemisphere) been? I somewhat managed to dodge most of the worst of Japan's monstrous summer by escaping to Singapore for a couple of weeks last month, but I did get a taste of it prior. I never thought I'd say this, but I don't think I'll ever complain about the heat and humidity in my home country for a while.
Anyway, I have survived my first term in university and have just begun the second last Monday. Perhaps it's a combination of post-holiday blues and the foreboding amount of assignments, but I feel like I've fallen down the stairs. Face first. Well, in spite of the rough time readjusting, one thing was able to clear that storm on Saturday: My very first karaoke recital.
To give some background information on whatever I know, karaoke recitals that feature enka seem to be quite a major thing in Japan, particularly amongst the elderly, as you can probably tell by the genre. There are those on a larger scale that are professionally organized and host moderately to really popular enka stars and renowned songwriters. These would probably include the competitive category as well, where the acts are judged and scored, and there will be winners. Then there are those small scale ones held in little towns here and there, often organized by a local karaoke joint. Usually, these ones are just simply for the folks to have some fun, and everyone goes home a winner. The one I participated in was the latter, simply because it was my karaoke haunt that held it, and Shiro Jiisanstrongly encouraged me to take part three months prior. I had doubts about my ability, but when the senior you thought was calm yells at you excitedly to join in, you know you have to.
The recital was the 10th installment of the annual "Happi Uta no Saiten", "Happi" being the name of the karaoke joint, and was held at the nearby Nishi-Kawagoe Bunka Kaikan. The event hall wasn't as big as I had feared, though the idea of having about a third of it it filled, in other words way more than what I'm used to, was rather intimidating, especially when they were all going to be looking at me. The regulars I had gotten to know, all veterans at this, most even in charge of the event itself, reassured that it'd be fine. Sure. And they were fussing over what I should wear for my time in the spotlight, which brings me to my next point.
Seems like no matter the scale, participants would still go all out in the way of dressing, contrary to what I had believed. The women would be in loud, frilly or sequin-embellished gowns, or in kimonos, and be decked out in full makeup and possibly wigs. The men would be in flashy suits or kimonos as well. The effort put in truly astounds me. It made my "costumes", comprising of shirts and black jeans, pale in comparison. I did firmly turn down an offer for one of the aforementioned types of dresses. I may have ventured deep into the world of enka, but I have my reservations when it comes to its... fashion sense.
Finally coming down to my song choice. I was due to sing three songs, which was actually one more than the usual - I'll get to that in a bit. There were some changes here and there from the time I began my deliberating in June, but here are my final picks.
The advice I received were: choose something that would knock the audience's socks off, and something jolly. Thinking of the former, I was very close to choosing Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) "Akai Lamp no Shuressha" (赤いランプの終列車), but consultation with my mom led me to Haruo Oka's (岡晴夫)"Akogare no Hawaii Koro" instead. I agreed with her rationale of it being relatively simple while still being able to stun the crowd, but what made me seal the deal was the sentimental value. Considering it was the very first ryukoka I had laid my ears upon nearly a decade ago, I felt that it deserved to be the first tune I sing at my very first karaoke recital.
To get into the Hawaiian spirit, I wore a red Hawaiian shirt over a white T-shirt and had the straw hat Mom wore during her university days upon my head. I jellied when singing, but it turned out OK - better than the rehearsal, at least. I think.
A Kiyoshi Hikawa (氷川きよし) song wasn't on my mind at all in my decision-making. Considering my age, it would be of no surprise should I choose one of his works. However, the folks advised me to change my initial Mood Kayo selection to something more exciting. To what, I did not know, until I tried out Hikawa's "Tora" one day. That was when they unanimously agreed that "Tora" should replace "Shianbashi Blues" (思案橋ブルース). I didn't mind as it felt manageable, and, in hindsight, the words were exactly why I should do it. Besides it being somewhat gender neutral, the proclamation of being the young white tiger before the aged was most fitting. Plus, standing up to adversity without complaint is something particularly resonant in me for this school term.
My outfit here was a white collarless shirt over grey and white striped T-shirt. I think it was the powerful score and the context, but the confidence it lent me (albeit temporarily) made strutting back on to the stage and staring down the growing crowd feel absolutely incredible. "Sing loud and proud. You're the tiger, after all," were my old pal's words. I tried, but I still couldn't help jellying up a bit, and for some reason, particularly during the most critical part of self-declaration. It felt awesome nonetheless.
This number by Hisao Ito (伊藤久男) and Akiko Futaba (二葉あき子) was the first actual duet I sang with a male counterpart. And what began as an impromptu duet between me and Shiro Jiisan became quite the attraction at Happi. It then caught the attention of an under-the-radar enka singer Yoko Ai (藍ようこ), who was to be the recital's guest star, when she came a visiting a month-ish prior to the event. I presume it was mostly due to her ravings that the mama-san and Shiro-san eventually decided that the duet should be included despite the both of us already meeting the two song quota. Seemed like word traveled down the Kasumigaseki-Matoba grapevine real quick, because gramps was happily telling me that one of the highly anticipated acts was, well, us. I suppose many were curious to see the grandpa-grandkid-like duo sing an ancient and obscure tune. Great for my ego, not great for my anxiety.
Because Shiro-san was to wear a yukata, I had to too. I'd never worn one before, so the mama-san, who'd so kindly picked one out for me, helped me put it on. I don't know how people wear these things! The belt was an absolute killer; one can hardly breathe or bend over. I liked the purple on black colour scheme though. Anyway, appearing alongside my Brojiisan (yep, my pun idiocy has reached new lows) allowed for a great deal of fear to be expunged. I guess that's why I was able to pull it off better than the other two in spite of worrying for it the most.
Overall, I had a great time taking part in this recital. It wouldn't be far-fetched to say that I've always wanted to take part in something like this, but I didn't think it would be feasible. It started as fantasy, but then enka came into the picture and fantasy morphed into fun romps at karaoke bars, and now, well, here I am. Hmm, how things snowballed down this path fascinates me. I wonder what comes next.
P.S. While I received wonderful encouragement from the familiar regulars, Shiro Jiisan, or should I say, Mr Yamagishi, really went above and beyond. Even though he too had lots of event duties that had him constantly going around and about, he always made sure to show up by my side just before I hit the stage and watch from the sidelines till I was done.
Imagine Ichiro Toba (鳥羽一郎) singing this, and you got Mr Yamagishi.
As per tradition, Jiisan served as the Top Batter for the recital's two segments. He did Oka's "Seishun Paradise" (青春のパラダイス) to kick start the show, then followed up with Akira Fuse's (布施明) rendition of "My Way". He often wears the direst expression when singing (anything), but when he noticed me grinning at him stupidly from the second row of seats in this second segment, I could've sworn that for a split second, that scowl ever so slightly turned upside down.
In the course of the five-ish months (in counting) I've known him for, he slowly went from your typical stony showa era fellow to affectionate marshmallow. I think it's because, aside from music, I've been bothering him with random stuff like my test scores from Japanese class and bromide collection. He does reciprocate in ways such as attempting to understand smartphone technology, and trying to further expand his one trip's worth of knowledge on Singapore.
He is indeed not my actual grandfather, but he's the closest to one I've ever had and always yearned for in a very long time.
You shouldn't look at your list. Go with a song that represents how you feel here and now, that way you'll be able to sing it well and with all your heart.
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.
A couple of days ago, I was watching enka singer Hiroshi Itsuki's（五木ひろし）NHK music-variety show (I really ought to talk about that program sometime soon) which seems to get plugged into a time slot on TV Japan whenever the usual program has been pre-empted for whatever reason. The theme for the episode was Tokyo-based kayo, something that has also been done on "Uta Kon"（うたコン）in the past.
However, one of the songs that was featured was an old kayo that I had never heard before. It was titled "Tokyo no Sora, Aoi no Sora" (Tokyo Sky, Blue Sky) and the original singer was Haruo Oka（岡晴夫）, the same fellow who had sung the jaunty "Akogare no Hawaii Koro"（憧れのハワイ航路）in 1948. It's a song that I've heard myself over the decades but have only gotten to know and pay attention to in the last number of years.
"Tokyo no Sora, Aoi no Sora" was released in March 1949, and like the more famous "Akogare no Hawaii Koro", it's got plenty of jump. In fact, I would say that Yoshi Eguchi's（江口夜詩）music is quite the whirling dervish of kayo, probably to match Miyuki Ishimoto's（石本美由起）lyrics of a young couple painting the town red on what must have been one heck of a weekend date. I'm sure that Oka must have gotten quite the workout recording this in the booth. But it's got plenty of optimism; I don't know what the state of Tokyo was in 1949, some four years after the war had ended, but if it's anything like singer, lyricist and composer have described it, then perhaps the capital city was really turning a corner. Incidentally, both Eguchi and Ishimoto were also responsible for the creation of "Akogare no Hawaii Koro".
There's a clearer and crisper cover of the original song by Hachiro Kasuga（春日八郎）who recorded it in 1976 as a part of his album "Kasuga Hachiro Oka Haruo wo Utau"（春日八郎 岡晴夫を歌う...Hachiro Kasuga Sings Haruo Oka）. Listening to both versions, I got that feeling of Tokyo being that hive of industry and activity, and if I were to compare the tune to a Hollywood movie, I would think it was kinda like the first few minutes of "An American in Paris" with George Gershwin's magnificent score in the background.
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.
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