Hachiro Kasuga -- Tasuke Mago Uta (多助馬子唄)

My Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) Centenary Project may have ended, but I’ve been almost exclusively listening to Hachi songs for the past few months so, of course, I’m going to do another Hachi feature.

(Unfortunately the video has been taken down.)

Sometime earlier this year, I’ve had the privilege to receive what is perhaps the first ever and, perhaps, only album containing all of singer-songwriter Tadaharu Nakano’s (中野忠晴) compositions for Hachi. I cannot thank Hachi fan club vice president Fukui-san for creating what is the physical manifestation of my love for both the Enka veteran and the jazz dandy. There were my familiar favourites, entries I know by title but have never heard/not thought of listening to, and works I’d never seen before. Out of the latter categories, some eventually became constants on my current everyday playlist. One of them comes from the second category and is the tune of this article: Tasuke Mago Uta (Tasuke's Horse/Horse-leading Song).

Tasuke Mago Uta was released in March 1957, and accompanying Mr. Nakano's music was Jusaburo Tojo's (東條寿三郎) words. I was made aware of its existence via a mini Kayokyoku Shu (歌謡曲集… Pop song collection) from 1957 I got many years ago. This booklet contained the lyrics and music scores of some of a season's releases from various artists, Kasuga included. Tasuke... was one of those tunes that floated around YouTube, so I could've easily checked it out. Yet, I had this assumption that it was some sort of redux of Tsumakoi Toge* (妻恋峠), but infused with more Komoro Mago Uta (小諸馬子唄) min'yo. The fact that the same men made both songs reinforced this invisible barrier. It was only upon receiving the aforementioned Hachi-Nakano album when I was proved so very wrong.

Oh... Hachi...
From Kayokyoku Shu (1957)

For one, Tasuke... had nothing to do with the Komoro Mago Uta and I wouldn't say it has much/any min'yo flavour. But it still has to do a horses - more on that in a bit. The swelling strings and accordion, accompanied by the rhythmic thrum of the acoustic guitar and the flute whistling playfully produce a cheerful atmosphere and a sense of optimism. Said flute also adds a layer of rusticity; together with Nakano's melody that moves at a languid pace, it feels as though you're walking through a lush valley with the mountains towering overhead. On the note of tempo and Masao Ueno (上野正雄) arrangement, even though Tasuke… predates enka's birth by several years, it's a kayo which I feel, for the above reasons, most reminiscent of modern-day enka. I don't know if Tasuke Mago Uta will find its way into my Hachi Top 10, but I can say that I like it a lot.

Moving on to Tojo's lyrics. The main question I had was: Who is this "Tasuke"? A quick search online and confirmation with the Hachi club folks revealed that he was a real Edo-era businessman Tasuke Shiobara (塩原太助). Tojo based Tasuke Mago Uta's premise on the rakugo and rokyoku tales that were inspired by his life - the original tale was the rakugo Shiobara Tasuke Ichidaiki (塩原多助一代記), and the later-day rokyoku was simply called Shiobara Tasuke (塩原多助). It was the norm for kayo and, in later days, enka to derive its source material from other forms of entertainment. Among which was none other than the once ferociously popular rokyoku - which, in turn, derived much of its source material from even older types of entertainment, like the much-loved rakugo and kodan. So, I'd say Tasuke Mago Uta is one good example of this source material borrowing chain.

Coming back to Tojo’s lyrics on the tale of Tasuke Shiobara, the song zeroes in on the part of the story before the businessman’s rise to greatness where he had to leave his Gunma hometown for Edo. In doing so, however, he also had to part ways with his beloved horse, Ao, who had been his trusted companion for (I believe) over a decade. Tojo illustrated Tasuke's sorrow and even depicted him tearfully telling Ao to take care in his absence. To my knowledge, there aren’t many kayo that specifically depict the melancholy of parting with one’s horse, so Tasuke Mago Uta’s narrative instantly reminded me of what is perhaps the kayo with this scenario: Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也) Tassha de na (達者でナ). Oddly enough, this was also composed by Mr. Nakano, albeit in a considerably different style. You can have a taste of it in the video below.

* Tsumakoi Toge was from 1955 and the first hit Nakano produced for Kasuga. Its main draw was the inclusion of the Nagano variant of the horse leading min’yo, Komoro Mago Uta in each stanza. The fact that the min’yo and Tasuke... share the term “Mago Uta” you can see how my assumption arose. You can give it a listen in the video below. I sound as if I dislike Tsumakoi Toge, but I'm actually fine with it. It's just that it's not one of my go-to tunes.

Isao Hayashi -- Tokyo Serenade (東京セレナーデ)

I've finished my Master's Thesis on Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) and did my defense just a few days ago, so I wanted to do a brain-off entry containing nothing but my fan ramblings to wind down. It is with that preface that I bring to you this unhinged article. Enjoy.

I've joked with friends that Isao Hayashi is my "Contract Husbando". By that I mean that he has a place in my current "Favourite Fellows" group simply by way of me being a member of his posthumous fan club instead of meeting my baseline criteria (first). Just to be clear, I like Hayashi, but it never naturally got to favourite territory. Hayashi doesn't have to be part of the group, but it was odd to be part of a fan club and not be a fan (this is just a principle of mine). 

As one who didn't use to join fan clubs, these singer-specific communities were initially reserved for those I greatly loved. But since, by an unexpected turn of events, Hayashi was able to skip my natural husbando path progression, we had to work backwards to achieve similar results. The first course of action was the nickname: Hayashi Sensei, but written in the extra casual way and in all katakana (ハヤシセンセ). It just felt right, for some reason. "Isa-chan", as suggested by my oshikatsu enabler friend Ms. C, was immediately vetoed. No. 

Next, the music. One of my kayo friends graciously lent me the chunky 6-disc Hayashi Isao Daizenshu (林伊佐緒大全集) from 1995 which allowed me to explore what Hayashi Sensei really had on offer (outside of jazz min'yo) as I laboured through my thesis. Honestly, things were looking a little bleak at first. I wasn't vibing with much of what I was hearing. Eventually, a song had my ears pricking up and had me going, "Oh, this ain't bad!" It was a bright jazzy tune with a 1930s modern Tokyo atmosphere. "Hayashi wrote this, right? As expected of the jazz singer-songwriter!" I thought as I opened the lyric booklet.

Hanasaku Tokyo (花咲く東京) - Composer: Tadaharu Nakano (中野忠晴)

Well, now*. I wasn't even deliberately looking for his works.

I enjoyed Hanasaku Tokyo, but I could only hear Mr. Nakano - it sounded like a song he would sing. Nakano and Hayashi are, to me, very similar (jazz singer-songwriters from prewar Japan who happened to be in postwar King Records making songs for Hachi) but also very different (voice, musical style, vibe, physical appearance). I mentioned this to Ms. C recently and she raised an apt allegory: When you put black and white together, it makes the black blacker, the white whiter. Mr. Nakano is second to Hachi in my books currently, so having Nakano in the Hayashi discovery journey only reminded me that I preferred him out of the two. That wouldn't do. I wanted something where I could hear and feel Hayashi Sensei... Please do not take this out of context.

It took a few more CDs and going through some decent numbers, but the moment that light tango-flavoured melody hit my ears, I knew immediately that we had a breakthrough. This song was Tokyo Serenade. Hayashi took care of the music and arrangement, while his frequent collaborator Juzaburo Tojo (東条寿三郎) was in charge of the words. While I haven't yet found any concrete date of release, tracing it from the record label number (C1662), it was likely originally released around October 1958.

Looking at Tojo's lyrics, the lonely image of our main character gazing at the yellow moon and the streets of Tokyo from his abode comes to mind. He is trying to forget the one who got away, but he cannot seem to forget them on this chilly autumn night. Hayashi Sensei's jaunty upbeat melody seems to betray the longing our protagonist feels at first, but the strings do convey a sense forlornness. Perhaps he's trying to cheer himself up by moon gazing, but he just can't chase away those grey clouds over his head. 

If I were to be completely honest, Tokyo Serenade sounded a little bit like a combination of Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也) Osaraba Tokyo (おさらば東京) (incidentally one of my all-time favourite Nakano compositions) and Akira Matsudaira's (松平晃) Wakaki Hi no Haru (若き日の春). Despite the reminders of the formidable combo that is Mr. Nakano and Akira-san, Tokyo Serenade still felt Hayashi. I could envision him singing it to me. I want to see him sing it. I reckon that it was at that point when I felt that Hayashi's place on my list became less precarious. I really like his cha-cha-themed Ai no Katami (愛のかたみ) as well, which unfortunately, is not available online. That said, I'd say that I still have a ways to go in taking out the "Contract" in "Contract Husbando" for Hayashi Sensei. But y'know, I think we're getting there. 

P.S. One thing I noticed about Hayashi Sensei's works is that he has a lot of tango-inspired kayo. Or, at least, the many of the songs in Daizenshu past 1955 were of that sort. My impression (could be completely wrong) is that tango-flavoured kayo began to fade come the late 50s, making way for mambo and later cha-cha. Maybe Hayashi just liked tango. 

*Nakano did compose some songs for Hayashi in the early to mid-1950s. Hayashi was likely on a singer contract in addition to being a contract composer at King Records, i.e. he would have had songs made for him by other contract composers in the company, like Nakano. Hence, the Nakano-Hayashi combo was nothing out of the ordinary by pre-1960s Japanese record industry standards. I just found it unbelievably hilarious that, by pure coincidence, the first non-jazz-min'yo Hayashi song I took an interest in was connected to Nakano, who I was trying to set aside for Hayashi's sake.

This was a wild article to write.

Ken Tsumura/Naomi Chiaki -- Shanghai Gaeri no Lil（上海帰りのリル）

 

Well, no, the above isn't Shanghai but Yokohama's Chinatown...just thought it would be nice to add some atmosphere somehow.

A few hours ago, I watched the Tuesday night episode of NHK's "Uta Con"（うたコン） and vocal group Junretsu（純烈）was up once more to sing an old kayo from 1951. The year alone caught my attention since I knew that none of us had written anything from that year since my article on Teruko Akatsuki's（暁テル子）"Minnesota no Tamago Uri"（ミネソタの卵売り）back in 2017.

But at the same time, listening to Junretsu's rendition of "Shanghai Gaeri no Lil" (Shanghai Lil), it was nice to hear that old sing-song melody from way back so I decided to track it down on YouTube and J-Wiki, if possible. And sure enough, it was possible. The original was first recorded in June 1951 by singer Ken Tsumura（津村謙）who had debuted in 1943 under his birth name of Tadashi Matsubara（松原正）for Teichiku Records but was soon drafted into the war.

In 1946, he made another debut under his new stage name of Ken Tsumura but didn't register any hits until "Shanghai Gaeri no Lil" which was released for sale a month after its recording. A kayo about searching for a lost love, it became a huge hit written by Juzaburo Tojo（東條寿三郎）, (partially) composed by Masanobu Tokuchi（渡久地政信）and arranged by Isao Hayashi（林伊佐緒）as a tune with a tango twist.

According to the J-Wiki article for "Shanghai Gaeri no Lil", the title, the lyrical content and the intro for the kayo were straight from the theme song "Shanghai Lil" for the 1933 American movie "Footlight Parade" starring James Cagney and Joan Blondell. The original song was written by Al Dubin and composed by Harry Warren.

With the success of "Shanghai Gaeri no Lil" (by 1954, it would sell over 300,000 records), Tsumura was given his invitation to join the 2nd Kohaku Utagassen which was broadcast on radio on January 3rd 1952 followed by a movie based on the song that was released in April. There would even be successful sequels to "Shanghai Gaeri no Lil" with the same singer and songwriters providing listeners with "Lil wo Sagashite kurenai ka"（リルを探してくれないか...Won't You Find My Lil?）in that same year and then "Kokoro no Lil yo Naze Tooi"（心のリルよなぜ遠い...Lil of My Heart, Why So Far Away?）in 1953. Apparently for a little while, there were quite a few different songs involving a very busy Lil including the debut of actress/singer Miki Sanjo（三条美紀）with "Watashi ga Lil yo"（私がリルよ...Hey, I'm Lil!）in 1952. And no, I'm not joking about this.

"Shanghai Gaeri no Lil" has been covered by a number of artists over the decades including actress/singer Chieko Baisho（倍賞千恵子）. She gives an even more tangoesque take on the number although I couldn't find out when she recorded her version.

However, I did find this contemporary 1985 bossa nova cover by Naomi Chiaki（ちあきなおみ）from her album "Minato ga Mieru Oka"（港が見える丘...The Hill Overlooking the Harbor）. It still brings in the tango, though.

As for Tsumura, he would appear on the Kohaku a grand total of eight times between 1952 and 1958. He would continue to come up with the hits for the duration of the 1950s but in November 1961, he was coming home late one night from a round of mah jongg and not wanting to wake up his family, he decided to sleep it off in his car while in the garage. The strange thing to me was that he had left the engine running and although he was rushed to the hospital, he died of carbon monoxide poisoning at the age of 37.

Ichiro Wakahara -- Fukeba Tobu yo na（吹けば飛ぶよな）

Happy Monday to you! Well, while knocking on wood most vigorously, it looks like things just might be turning a positive curve with the pandemic in our province of Ontario since in less than a couple of hours, our Premier will be making an announcement on the timeline for re-opening up the economy. Considering that Doug Ford pounded the slogan "Open for Business" into our heads before COVID-19 hit us, he may be trying to hide some giddiness under that stony face that has been greeting us in daily pressers for the past several weeks. At this point, I think a lot of us will be happy for some good news although a local poll stated that 75% of the population is skittish about opening things up too early.

The surprising thing for me, though, is Tokyo. Despite the Greater Tokyo Area having three times the population of my province, it seems to have only a fraction of the infections that Ontario has been suffering. There are even rumours being bandied about that my old stomping grounds may end up re-opening up a lot earlier although the political leaders and medical experts are insisting that things should be kept under tight control for at least a few more weeks. Well, we shall see (with a healthy dose of skepticism), although if things truly are getting much better there at a much faster rate, they have my envy and gratitude.

In any event, I did PVR another rerun of "Songs of Japanese Spirit" over the weekend which my folks are watching right now. I'm always grateful for the broadcast of these kayo programs from happier times when audiences filled the halls and the singers were all together on stage without the need for remote screens. Not sure how the situation will last on NHK, although according to what I've observed through the previous paragraph, maybe the good ol' days will return soon.

Found this chestnut being performed at the beginning of "Songs of Japanese Spirit", and I think it's one that would be rather appropriate for this time. Titled "Fukeba Tobu yo na" (If You Blow On It, It May Fly) from November 1954, one would think that it's talking about a dandelion seed. However, the lyrics by Juzaburo Tojo（東条寿三郎）relate a happy-go-lucky fellow encouraging the lads that the good times are around the corner if not already here.

The jaunty music is from Masanobu Tokuchi（渡久地政信）who would provide a number of Mood Kayo tunes in the following decade such as Mina Aoe's（青江三奈）"Nagasaki Blues"（長崎ブルース）. However, "Fukeba Toku yo na" has more of a feeling of a cheerful countryside enka although the setting is in the city. And before you think that I've forgotten about the singer, it was recorded by Ichiro Wakahara（若原一郎）who hailed from Yokohama.

Born Nakayoshi Tanokura（田野倉仲義）, the future Wakahara won a prize at the 1948 NHK (Radio) Nodo Jiman（のど自慢）contest, and then made his debut as a singer the following year. According to the J-Wiki entry for Wakahara. "Fukeba Tobu yo na" may have taken its sweet time gaining success since the article states that the song became a hit in 1956! But with that success, Wakahara became a known name in music, and he got his first invitation to the Kohaku Utagassen that year (although he performed a different tune), the first of five consecutive appearances on the NHK special. In the four succeeding appearances, "Fukeba Tobu yo na" was never sung either.

Wakahara would continue releasing singles until 1988 and would pass away in 1990 from liver cancer.

Hachiro Kasuga -- I Love You, Madam (アイ・ラブ・ユー・マダム)

 That's pretty hot. Um, I mean,
what a fine-looking gentleman.

 www.kasugaomoidekan.jp/kinenkan.html

Wowsers, Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) was quite the looker back in the day! I would even say he looked rather dandy, and those are words I usually reserve for the likes of Hiroshi Tachi; the enka/ryukoka bunch... eh, not so much, or actually, not ever (until now).

Anyway, I've recently discovered this YouTube channel that uploads the First Enka Singer's works from around the time of his debut to his later days (70's into the 80's), and sampling many entries from his discography that hardly see the light of day was fascinating. Out of the gems I've grown to love and include in my playlist, I have to say that "I Love You, Madam" from 1958 was an entry I'd least expect to see as one of his original singles. At the same time, it was the one that had me at full attention just from the title alone, with it being in all-katakana and having a Western connotation. It ain't your standard Kasuga-bushi, alright, but it does fit the singer's look in the photo above.

Continuing with the deviation from a Kasuga-bushi, "I Love You, Madam" lacks a Japanese sound. Instead, Isao Hayashi (林伊佐緒), who was known for composing Western-sounding numbers just as well as traditional enka/Mood Kayo tunes, created a jaunty, jazzy melody that feels fit for a cabaret from the trumpets' sharp bursts and the hissing cymbals. Speaking of cabaret, Hachi used to perform at one such establishment named Moulin Rouge - nope, not the one in Montmartre, Paris, this one's in Shinjuku, Tokyo, if I'm not mistaken - before he became a prominent figure in the music world.

Coming back to the song itself, Juzaburo Tojo (東條寿三郎) was in charge of the flirty lyrics which has our protagonist professing his love for/trying to woo the lovely dame. Well, considering how suave 50's Kasuga was, I'm pretty sure the titular madam would be putty in his hands.

P.S. Ordinarily, I'd complete the Yonin Shu set of articles by writing one article each for Michi, Muchi, and Minami, but I've yet to come up with solid ideas for the latter veterans, so this Hachi one will be a standalone entry.

Noelle from 31/1/25: Having listened to more of Hayashi sensei's works, I have a hunch that "I Love You, Madam" may have been a redux of Hayashi's own earlier number which he also composed, "Daina Blues" (ダイナ・ブルース) from 1952. "Daina Blues" didn't become a hit, so perhaps Hayashi wanted to reuse the tune in hopes of bringing in success. After all, Hachi had become one of the biggest stars in 1950s Japan by 1958. Unfortunately, "I Love You, Madam" didn't take off either. As much as hearing "I love you, madam" from Hachi gives me butterflies, the objective me thinks that this tune still sounds too Hayashi for it to be Hachi, if you get what I mean.

Michiya Mihashi -- Hoshikuzu no Machi (星屑の町)

To be honest, I find this song a little odd... but in a good way. With the soft trumpets and Broadway feel to 'Hoshikuzu no Machi' (Town of stardust), Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也) Enka voice seems out of place as I would usually think that someone else with a lower vocal delivery would be singing this type of song. But it actually worked out quite well, especially since he's able to bring out that certain element of loneliness in it.

Another thing that I find rather amusing is that 'Hoshikuzu no Machi' presents me with two images in my head that have quite the difference. One being having a lighter, happier mood to it, the other more forlorn... which is strange since that no song has ever done that until now.

First image is of ol'Michi lightheartedly prancing around in that tux of his and swinging from lamp post to lamp post as he belts out the song on an empty street at night... kinda like what Gene Kelly did in the 'Singin' in the rain', but you know, minus the rain. On the other hand, the other image I got was of him - still in the tuxedo - roaming the lamp-lit streets and staring at the pavement with hands in his pockets. An occasional glance up to the dark skies above to check out the stars with his head hung low most of the time as he reminisces a love one or something on that line. But either interpretation, I enjoy the song's atmosphere and it's goes great with the Christmas decor out in town at this time of the year, with the lights looking like star dust on the trees and buildings!

Anyway, written by Juzaburo Tojo and composed by Yoshiaki Abe (東条寿三郎 . 安部芳明), 'Hoshikuzu no Machi' was released in May 1962 and it was pretty well recieved. Being 1 of Michi's 18 'million sellers', it reached number one on the music ranking show 'Zenkoku Kayo Best 10' (全国歌謡ベストテン) and allowed him to receive the 'Singing Award' at the 4th Japan Record Awards. Plus, he got to sing the song once on the Kohaku. All that in the same year. Wow.

www.ds-sounds.jp