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.
Some years ago, I mentioned a band by the name of The Last Show（ザ・ラストショウ）which was set up to act as backup for folk-rock singer Shigeru Izumiya（泉谷しげる）back in 1974 and then went on their own way from the latter half of that decade. However, following their 1978 album"Last Show 2", nothing more was heard from Koichi Matsuda（松田幸一）and his group.
But then in 2010, almost forty years later, The Last Show got together again and provided a new album in January called "Ieji ~ My Sweet Home"（家路）followed by a live album a few months later titled "The Noise From 80’s". I've already written about the title track and now here's a ballad from the album called "Tomo ni Genki" (Fine Together).
I dare you not to get all gooshy inside after listening to this one. Written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）and composed by band guitarist Hirofumi Tokutake（徳武弘文）, it sounds contemporary but there's also a feeling of an anchor to the past via some of those 70s slow love songs in a Boz Scaggs way. I don't know for certain who sings the male part, but it might be Rina from the band indigo blue as the female half of the duet here. You may want to have a tissue nearby.
Ahhh...the image of the chaise lounge, international symbol for all things Fashion Music or the Japanese take on Baroque Pop. It's been a while since we've seen a song from that area so allow me to present another one.
I think the last time I posted on the late Chika Ueda（上田知華）along with her string group Karyobin was last year with their "Minuet" from 1978. Well, this time, we're going ahead a few years to 1981 when they released their 6th single "See You Again ~ Hatsukoi" (First Love). The lovely music and arrangement provided by Ueda address those lyrics of someone gently coaxing the person she loves out of his shell, realizing that it will take a fair bit of time. Those lyrics were provided by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）, a writer who's had his fair share of Fashion Music experience with another singer, Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子）.
A little over three years ago, I featured a song by a band known as The Last Show（ザ・ラストショウ）led by Koichi Matsuda（松田幸一）and Ritsu Murakami（村上律）which had been active during the late 1970s. "Blue Lonesome Lady"（ブルー・ロンサム・レディ）from their 1978 2nd album"Last Show 2" is a lovely country tune that could have made its way to the Grand Ole Opry, and according to their J-Wiki article, all three albums that they've released are extremely hard to track down.
That apparently even applies to their January 2010 album "Ieji ~ My Sweet Home"（家路）which was released after getting back together in 2008 and doing concert gigs. Despite the fact that it's been quite a few decades, the title track doesn't sound any different from how they sounded back in the 70s. Written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）and composed by band bassist Tetsuzo Kawai（河合徹三）, it's a folksy country tune about a couple of good buddies from a gang and how they've enjoyed each other's company over the past few years. Wouldn't mind hearing some more of the old-school stuff in the 2020s.
Among the many singers that I got to be introduced to via the radio program "Sounds of Japan" in the 1980s, one was singer-songwriter Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子）. She among the others were there to convince me in no uncertain terms that there was a large space that was pop in terms of music and not just enka, Mood Kayo, aidoru or technopop. I will always be indebted to her and them for that knowledge and their music.
"Bishonure Waltz" is a track on her 5th studio album"Silhouette"（シルエット）from 1979, and it was the usual combination of lyricist Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）and composer Nishijima behind this song which is definitely done in the style of a waltz. The direct translation is "Drenched Waltz" but that doesn't sound too appetizing or pretty so perhaps "Waltz in the Rain" is more romantic. Besides the arrangement is quite classy and overseas as a couple has their dance with one partner teasingly admonishing the other to keep on dancing for today since they may not be together the next day.
I never thought that I would ever be able to get my hands on Chika Ueda's（上田知華）"Classiest" which had originally been released in August 1984. For one thing, Ueda, who tragically passed away earlier this year, had been known more as a fine songwriter than a singer, and although I think of her as being a fine artist behind the microphone as well, my feeling was that there would be no impetus for the originating studio to put out a 1980s album recorded by a relatively obscure singer. Luckily, I was so wrong.
So, you can imagine my shock and delight early in November when I was browsing nonchalantly through CD Japan and found "Classiest" for sale as a limited edition disc, freshly released in the last few months. From my own impressions and the new liner notes, I think that the reasons for the re-introduction of Ueda's first album without her classical pop bandKaryobin were partly her recent passing and the fact that City Pop has burrowed its way into a lot of new fans' psyches in the last few years. And as the author of the liner notes, Hideharu Nagai（永井英治）, put it, having Ueda tackle music that was outside of her comfort zone of classical pop was very fresh at the time for her. Regardless of all that, however, as soon as I saw it on sale at CD Japan, I pulled the trigger on my money and bought "Classiest" lickety-split.
It helped that I had already covered and loved three of the tracks on the album: the opening EPO-tastic"Hurricane", the quirky pop of "Starry Night" and the City Pop"Madogiwa no High Heel"（窓際のハイヒール）. I always love an album whose singer can do a number of genres well within it, and my initial feeling about "Classiest" is that for her first album away from Karyobin, Ueda wanted to channel her inner straight pop feelings through the question, "If I were singer-songwriter EPO (or Taeko Ohnuki), how would I record all of this?". Well, crazily enough, she probably only had to turn her head a few degrees to ask her friend because EPO herself was helping out on background chorus for some of the tracks.
Well, "Hurricane" and "Starry Night" make up the first two tracks of the album which was wholly arranged by Nobuyuki Shimizu/清水信之 (with all songs composed by Ueda). Therefore, let's start with Track 3, "Yomikake no Tanpenshuu"（読みかけの短編集...Half-Read Short Story） which was written by Yasushi Akimoto（秋元康）. It's a rather intriguingly-titled song for a pretty precise heartbreak story. Apparently, the lady here has had a Polaroid within the pages of an Irwin Shaw novel for years without opening it. The reason for that is that the photo has former friends in the form of a man and a woman who she introduced to each other but for whatever reason drifted away and she only heard through hearsay that the two ended up getting married. It's kinda too bad that she actually had feelings for the guy which she didn't bother to act on. But since getting that news, the Shaw has remained firmly shut.
The first three songs that I've covered from "Classiest" have already shown Ueda as far away from her Fashion Music/baroque pop roots as possible. But "Yomikake no Tanpenshuu" still leaves quite an impression about her very different music here. Despite the bittersweet content of the lyrics, Ueda's melody is quite the upbeat strut with the synthesizers filtering through some 60s swinging pop.
"Nagai Yume"（長い夢...The Long Dream）, Track 4, also has that feeling that EPO could have covered this thanks to Shimizu's arrangement (and he also helped EPO as well). Once again handled by Akimoto and Ueda, it has a mixture of light soul and a 50s love ballad rhythm, and once again, the lyrics of resignation talk of the one that got away. However, the setting this time isn't a woman's bedroom with a bookshelf but a high-class party. Drown your woes in champagne!🍸💔
The final track on Side A of the original LP is "Omoide no Balcony"（思い出のバルコニー...The Balcony of Memories） includes Kenji Kadoya's（門谷憲二）sole contribution to "Classiest" through his lyrics. Usually I've associated Kadoya with Mieko Nishijima's（西島三重子）works, and here he relates the tale of what I think is a woman not quite ready for love after being hurt by it not too long previously. According to Nagai's liner notes, Ueda came up with "Omoide no Balcony" as a tribute to her days with Karyobin and the coda has the singer finishing off with a classical piano riff.
Side B begins with "Juu-gatsu no Weather Forecast"（10月のウェザー・フォアキャスト...October Weather Forecast）. Usually it's been the case with fall-based kayothat romance comes to this season to die. However, perhaps because of "Omoide no Balcony" finishing up Side A, "Juu-gatsu no Weather Forecast" is one happy song which casts off all signs of depression. It may even act as the sequel to the melancholy "Omoide no Balcony" as the woman takes a cheerful bicycle ride while not even minding the couples who are still in love with each other.
Nagai feels that the City Pop Force is strong with this one, but I think that "Juu-gatsu no Weather Forecast" kinda straddles the line between City Pop and straight-ahead pop. Still, I like this one regardless and Nagai mentions that it's got some big-time musicians helping out such as Jake H. Concepcion on sax and Shin Kazuhara（数原晋）on trumpet.
"Madogiwa no High Heel" follows "Juu-gatsu no Weather Forecast", so we're going to "Nichiyoubi no Rhapsody"（日曜日の狂騒曲...Sunday Rhapsody） which has Akimoto back as lyricist. There is something comically Beatles about this one and the lyrics certainly reflect the sitcom nature of the predicament as a woman tries to oust her paramour from her place after getting a phone call from Mama that she's coming over on the double. If I haven't read Akimoto's words in error, the guy was wearing the woman's pyjamas in bed and the whiskey has been stuffed away in the bathroom. That must have been a starry night (sorry about that).
The penultimate track is "Pink no Ribbon ga Musubenai"（ピンクのリボンが結べない...I Can't Tie the Pink Ribbon）, Akimoto and Ueda's final collaboration on the album and though there is this synthesized version of a 1950s romance film overture coming in at the beginning and in the middle, the song is a candy cane concoction regarding a woman spending over a couple of hours trying to figure out what to get her boyfriend for his birthday. However, it doesn't appear as if she's particularly tying herself in knots about the situation and I believe that she's enjoying the tender pain of making that selection. Shimizu's arrangement makes the song even feel like a Xmas tune.
Ueda was responsible for both words and music for the last song "Last Dance", a classy (maybe the classiest) track with some synthesized jazziness. A woman is looking at her former beau dancing with his new girlfriend on the floor round midnight. Nagai adds something interesting in the liner notes when he says that the woman has decided to prioritize her own life and career over any further relationship with the ex, something that was a rather new concept in a song in the 1980s.
Although "Classiest" isn't a whole City Pop experience, there is good variety in the album and fine singing by Ueda. I'd say for those who like that mixture of the old-fashioned standards and the contemporary stuff (circa 1980s), say along the lines of what the Manhattan Transfer was doing at around the same time, then this album should be up your alley. "Classiest" is still on sale at CD Japan.
Hmmm...what did I say about half an hour ago? I was going to finish off my KKP day with my fifth article involving Yukihiro Takahashi's（高橋幸宏）"Walking to the Beat" and hit the 90-article month for July 2022. Well, I guess middle-aged men can still be ambitious in a slight adjustment to Professor William S. Clark's famous quotation.
For one thing, I found a follow-up I could do. Mariko Kurata（倉田まり子）had her wistful New Music hit of "Sayonara Rainy Station"（さよならレイニー・ステーション）from September 1980. Now, I discover that Kurata's trademark tune was technically a cover for composer Chika Ueda's（上田知華）original. Yep, that's right...Ueda with her piano-and-string quintet Karyobin had come up with "Sayonara Rainy Station" in their third album, logically titled "Ueda Chika + Karyobin [3]"（上田知華+KARYOBIN[3]）earlier in July that year.
With lyrics by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）, thanks to Karyobin, Ueda's original takes things into Japan's version of baroque pop, Fashion Music. Those tender strings really mellow the listening experience down and increase the dramatic aspects of "Sayonara Rainy Station" as if some European romance were being played out. However, Ueda ends things on the piano with a bit of jazziness. Still, I get these vibes of a recital in a very classy mansion (with lots of oak) in the Hamptons when I hear this one. Anyways, I have Article No. 91 though it still doesn't match January's total of 94! 😁
I think that singer-songwriter Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子）has a very loyal cadre of fans but she's one of the more underrated talents that have in the kayo world. She's gone through the gamut ranging from folk to City Pop, and a few years ago, I mentioned her in that list of Fashion Music singers since she can provide some of that laconic baroque version of kayo along with contemporaries such as Ruiko Kurahashi（倉橋ルイ子）and Mayumi Itsuwa（五輪真弓）.
Strangely enough, it is Kurahashi that I get reminded of when I listen to Nishijima's "Tentai Bouenkyou" (Astronomical Telescope),her 13th single from January 1982 and the lead track from her November 1981 album, "Lost Hour". Composed by the singer and written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）who has worked with her a number of times, "Tentai Bouenkyou" has that adorably folksy and innocent lilt to the melody. In fact, it's one of those tunes that I can't quite categorize within one genre. That squealing electric guitar that comes halfway adds some rock, of course, but I surmise that I can perhaps place it in either the straight pop or New Music veins.
In any case, it's a pleasantly relaxing song by Nishijima that doesn't so much talk about the wonders of astronomy but the circumstances surrounding the reason to visit the observatory. This time, a couple of students who may be on a school trip to see the stars realize as they share views through the telescope that there may be love coming between the two. Couldn't ask for a better opportunity to say "Awww!" than this one.
Mieko Nishijima's（西島三重子）"Bye-Bye" has got quite the bouncy bass in there but I'm not quite ready to call it a City Pop song just yet, and perhaps thanks to those flutes or ocarinas or whatever instrument is blowing, there is some hint of an exotic kayo that I'm more confident in categorizing it as. "Bye-Bye" is Nishijima's 5th single from May 1981 and it's got some more of that oomph than would be typical for one of her tunes.
Written by Nishijima and Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）, a frequent collaborator, and composed by Nishijima, it's a really jaunty tune about a woman who declares that it's time to move on from a dead romance, and the way that the singer delivers those lyrics, the lady seems to be more than happy to kiss the cad off right then and there. Such is life in the big city!
The above picture is an especially precious one for me since the structure no longer exists. It was the Grand Prince Hotel Akasaka, and I first saw it through a photo in my brother's collection of shots that he had taken when he and his class went on the graduation trip from his Japanese language school in the summer of 1982. Design-wise, it was quite striking and if I saw it from the sky, it probably looked like a jagged boomerang. I was glad to finally see it in person (although I never got to stay in it) when I began living in the Tokyo area from the mid-1990s.
However, as they all say, all good things must come to an end, and surely enough, several months before my departure permanently back to Canada, it had been decided that the Akasaka Prince was to be demolished. Of course, the Japanese came up with an ingenious plan to take it down without too much hassle for the surrounding neighbourhood. Still miss the old building, though.
My above story on the Akasaka Prince really has nothing to do with this song, but I simply wanted to describe my affection for it. Anyways, "Ai shika nai no ni" (I Have Only Love) is Yumiko Araki's（荒木由美子）10th and final single during her initial run as a singer after which it wouldn't be until December 2017 that she would release one more single, "Watashi wa Buranko"（私はブランコ...I am a Swing）.
A little less than a month ago, I put up Araki's song "Haru ni Fukarete"（春に吹かれて）from her October 1977 debut album"Virgin Road/Nagisa de Cross"（ヴァージン・ロード／渚でクロス）when she was known as an aidoru. Indeed, "Haru ni Fukarete" was a happy-go-lucky number with a spritz of Caribbean. On the other hand, "Ai shika nai no ni", which came out in March 1980, pretty much takes the singer out of the aidoru genre and into something more Mood Kayo and perhaps even enka (although that might be a bit of a stretch depending on how often I listen to it).
At the very least, it's rather dramatic and polished kayo. Lyricist Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）, composer Makoto Kawaguchi（川口真）and arranger Mitsuo Hagita（萩田光雄）all worked on the song. Perhaps I should change my stance from earlier about the Akasaka Prince not having anything to do with "Ai shika nai no ni"; this is the sort of song that I think would be set in one of the posh dining establishments in the old hotel. To be honest, though, the actual room as shown below has more of that faded beauty look...kinda like what the original Tokyo Prince Hotel looked like before its major renovation a few years ago.
Singer-songwriter Masaki Niwa（丹羽応樹）made her first appearance on "Kayo Kyoku Plus" through her brassy composition of "Chinatown" for singer-actress Mari Natsuki（夏木マリ）back in 1978.
Later that year, the native of Ishikawa Prefecture released her 5th EP, "Koorogi Bashi" (Cricket Bridge) whose title track was used for a TBS drama of the same name that ran from October 1978 to March 1979. Incidentally, there is indeed a Koorogi Bashi located by Yamanaka Onsen（山中温泉）in Niwa's home prefecture. Niwa was the composer while Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）was the lyricist. Kadoya has also written for singer-songwriter Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子）, a lady for whom I also think has some similarities with Niwa in terms of song stylings.
"Koorogi Bashi" the drama was an afternoon show sponsored by Pola Cosmetics. Incredibly, I still remember seeing at least the opening credits for a typical Pola drama when I was a kid gallivanting around my grandfather's home in Wakayama Prefecture, and Niwa's "Koorogi Bashi" sounds like the type of song for such a drama. There is that wistful combination of piano, flute and strings as Niwa gives this beautifully lilting performance as Kadoya's lyrics relate all of the emotions and stories related to this most dramatic bridge.
Niwa is also an arranger who graduated with a degree in piano from the Tokyo College of Music. Her father is composer Keio Iida（飯田景応）while her mother is singer Hiroko Misaki（岬ひろ子）. While releasing 8 EPs and a couple of full LPs between 1970 and 1982, she has also provided her fair share of television themes and songs for people including Hitomi Ishikawa（石川ひとみ）, Teresa Teng（テレサテン）and Yujiro Ishihara（石原裕次郎）.
As I've mentioned before in past articles, the 1980s were the most impressionable decade for me in terms of pop culture. There was all the music, the music videos, discovering the freedom of university life with restaurants and discos, and fashion.
When my brother and I were taping music videos onto VHS tape (yes, that was a hobby back then), one of those videos was the 1983 hit by Tracey Ullman, "They Don't Know", which was a cover of the original 1979 song by the late Kirsty MacColl. And back then, I was marveling at the fact that the 1950s and 1960s were coming back into popular culture in the 1980s after having done the same the previous decade thanks to "American Graffiti" and "Happy Days". Ullman's video illustrated that mix of the earlier decades and that certain New Wave of the 80s.
That was the same feeling that I received on encountering this song "Nightingale" by the girls' band Love Potion（ラブ・ポーション）. The first track on Side B of their 2nd and final album"Nightingale ni Narenakute"（ナイチンゲールになれなくて...Can't Become a Nightingale） from January 1986, I was not only reminded of "They Don't Know" but I even thought of "Georgy Girl" by The Seekers. Looking at the album cover in the thumbnail, yep, it certainly appears that the band was going for some of that 60s/80s mix of fashion. The headband and all those pearls around the lead singer's neck has me thinking early Madonna. "Nightingale" was written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）and composed by Daisuke Inoue（井上大輔）.
The lead singer, by the way, is Norie Kasai（笠井則江）along with her guitarist buddy Takako Nakamura（中村貴子）and three of their classmates from a Kyoto junior high school, according to J-Wiki. Back in 1977, they actually started their career as an indies country band called San Antonio Lady's, but then later on in 1983, singer-songwriter Ryudo Uzaki（宇崎竜童）contributed some help to them and even had them change their name to Love Potion with a major debut single of "Mune Ippai no Photograph"（胸いっぱいのフォトグラフ...Photographs Full of Emotion） at the end of that year. Still, their early songs still had that country lilt and their July 1984 debut album"ZEPHYR" even had them covering "Tennessee Waltz". With those two albums and six singles under their belts, Love Potion called it a day by announcing their breakup at an Osaka concert in July 1986.
Back in June 2019, I wrote about aidoru Kumiko Aimoto's（相本久美子）"Mayonaka no Heroine"（真夜中のヒロイン）, an interesting synthpop concoction that was a part of her 1981 album "Yume Nanoni I Love You"（夢☆なのにI LOVE YOU...Even If It's A Dream, I Love You）. That 2nd album would mark the end of her recording career aside from her 2015 single"Dearest For You".
Well, I've got another track from "Yume Nanoni", "Itsutsu no Douka"(Five Copper Coins) and it's quite a different animal in terms of arrangement. In contrast with the synthpop of "Mayonaka no Heroine", "Itsutsu no Douka" has got a lot more of that downtown City Pop feeling going for it. It's a pretty active song with those cutting strings and bass, and it sounds slightly like the type of music that Momoe Yamaguchi（山口百恵）had been singing in the latter half of her career, with perhaps a feeling of Junko Yagami（八神純子）.
For such a peppy song, the setting is a telephone booth around midnight in which a young lady has to face that romantic breakup by phone (lyrically, I guess this wouldn't be a Momoe song since she wouldn't wait til midnight to break things off and I think she wouldn't waste her time even bothering to call the lout). At first, I was wondering what the lass was doing with five pennies, and I realized that I was being too Canadian since our own defunct 1-cent piece was copper in colour. Copper coins in Japan actually represent 10 yen each which are good enough for those public telephones. Fifty yen, huh? Must have been a pretty intense call.
"Itsutsu no Douka" was written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）who has provided lyrics for singers that have represented the more languid Fashion Music state of things such as Ruiko Kurahashi（倉橋ルイ子）andMieko Nishijima（西島三重子）. Meanwhile, the funky music was created by Tsunehiro Izumi（和泉常寛）, a composer who has backed up folks such as Omega Tribe.
Ah...l'amour. The delicious pain of love and all that mumbo-jumbo. I was never good at expressing romance in writing but the French seem to do it very well. To me, Paris hasn't just been the City of Lights but also the City of Love through the various examples of pop culture that I've witnessed over the past half-century. On the other hand, Japanese society has never struck me as being all that particularly openly affectionate. In fact, I read one news report years ago where a crotchety old man supposedly smacked a young couple with his cane, maybe in Shibuya, and gave a sound reprimand to them for kissing in public.
For years, I've heard about the very amiable friendship between Japan and France, and perhaps I can only speak from the Japanese side of things, but I speculate that French movies and music (among other aspects), including the genre of chanson, became cherished parts within the Japanese fandom because of that envied openness and elegance in the expression of love. If there are any French viewers of "Kayo Kyoku Plus", I could welcome some insights.
Anyways, my preamble (or pre-ramble) here exists because I wanted to introduce the 50th single by Mari Sono（園まり）, "Nagasarete" (Swept Away) which was released in August 1978. Now, Sono has been known to me primarily for her 1960s kayo songs such as "Aitakute, Aitakute"（逢いたくて逢いたくて）, but "Nagasarete" impressed me as a totally different tune for her. It's definitely not the usual kayo and seems to take listeners all the way to France as a witness to a very ardent romance as a couple get swept away into the whirlwind of love. Even the melody feels like a very gusty breeze.
It then doesn't surprise me that "Nagasarete" was composed by singer-songwriter Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子）and written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）. Nishijima is someone that I've known as weaving these oft-soaring tunes with an exotic feeling that though they never quite hit the heights of Oricon but have always embedded themselves into my own kokoro (awwww....) since the 1980s. Moreover, both she and Kadoya created one of my favourite kayo, the hauntingly lovely "Kamome yori Shiroi Kokoro de"（かもめより白い心で）.
In any case, I've also classified (initially) "Nagasarete" as a chanson just purely on how the song feels to me, although again I'm open to any fans of the genre and/or French readers of KKP agreeing or disagreeing. Mind you, I've just come across the Wikipedia article on "Nouvelle Chanson" which states that there has been considerable debate on what would be considered chanson or who belongs in the genre.
Completely forgot that I heard this old chestnut by Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子）on "Sounds of Japan" long ago. Nishijima has often done a number of lilting countryside folk ballads although one of her most famous songs was "Gin Lime"（ジンライム）, a 70s City Pop/Mood Kayo standard with Mancini-level aspirations which definitely fits the atmosphere of a hotel top bar.
But then, she has also crafted these other types of ballads which take things closer to the city but have a much more old-fashioned bent to them thanks to some lush strings. "Jealousy" is one of those examples that I've often equated with Nishijima who composed it. Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）wrote the lyrics about an old flame or didn't-quite-reach-romantic-potential friend who comes to see the protagonist to tell him the good news that she's found a new guy. Meanwhile the sad hero is mightily biting his tongue at realizing that he may have lost the love of his life since he wants to keep her happy. I guess this would be the ultimate in bittersweet balladry.
"Jealousy" was a track on Nishijima's 7th album from 1982, "Image".
I was going through YouTube last night looking for a video for another article when I encountered Mariko Kurata's（倉田まり子）name. It's been a name that I've seen bandied about through various literature on Showa Era music over the years but I'd never come about to listening to any of her works until then. So I saw the video above for her September 1980 7th single, "Sayonara Rainy Station" which sounds like the type of title for a New Music ballad from that time.
With the soaring strings and gentle arrangement, "Sayonara Rainy Station" reminded me of the similar songs that a couple of my favourite songstresses were putting out in the late 70 and early 80s, Ruiko Kurahashi and Mariko Takahashi（倉橋ルイ子・高橋真梨子）. Chika Ueda（上田知華）, who would create a number of famous songs for Miki Imai（今井美樹）several years later, was behind the music here (and man, was she ever rockin' that Farrah Fawcett hairstyle back then) and is singing along with Kurata in the above video. The lyricist was Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）, who was also responsible for one of Mieko Nishijima's（西島三重子） trademark songs, "Chitose Bashi"（千登勢橋）a year earlier. Incidentally, you can hear Ueda's version of the song right here.
Mariko Kurata was the stage name for Mariko Tsubota（坪田真理子）from Nagasaki Prefecture. She was born in 1960 and came up to Tokyo in 1974 after being discovered by a talent scout on a TBS music variety show. Kurata made the leap to singer and later actress from 1979, and as for the last name of her stage name, she decided to take a kanji character from her mentor at the time, Shunichi Tokura（都倉俊一）who was creating hits for a number of singers, notably Pink Lady.
According to J-Wiki, it seems like the entertainment phase of her career ended sometime in 1984 and has been a career counselor ever since under her real name. I can only imagine what she would say to folks interested in entering show business.
It's been a good few days in terms of introducing some of these formerly long-lost songs from my memory. First, I was able to get Junko Ohashi's"Canadian Lullaby" onto the blog, followed by last night's "Yakusoku Dake Romantic" by Yukari Ito. Now, both of those songs are notable in that they were a little out of the usual zone that those two ladies sing in.
However, for Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子）,"Self-Portrait" is just the comfortable, old café-friendly song that I'm accustomed to hearing her sing. I first heard it on "Sounds of Japan" and was instantly soothed by the intro and the soft vocals. I guess it was the New Music equivalent of chamomile tea. The instrumental bridge with that sax and the strings took me out of that old café and into that sunset air via hang glider. Written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）, the lyrics pretty much describe what everyone in the working world would like to do once (or twice) in a while: just leisurely lounge about in bed on a rainy day. However, there is also a message about that ungrateful significant other who just comes for romance once in a while.
Mieko Nishijima provided the warm-blanket melody. "Self-Portrait" was another one of those songs that I'd searched for years, finally tracking it down to an album of hers titled "Yume no Hajimari"(夢のはじまり...The Beginning of a Dream） that I found at Tacto during one of my shopping runs. It came out in October 1986, according to a discography listed on a fan website but I'm pretty sure the song itself had already been released in an earlier album some years earlier (October 8 2023: Just found out that "Self-Portrait" had originally been on Nishijima's "Image" album from May 1982, so mystery solved!).
"Ikegami Sen"(Ikegami Line) is arguably Mieko Nishijima's（西島三重子）most famous hit. It was her 2nd single, originally from her debut1975 album, "Fuusha"（風車...Windmills） before it was given its own release in April 1976. Written by Jun'ei Sato（佐藤順英）and composed by Nishijima, the title refers to one of Tokyo's private train lines on which a young couple is undergoing a sad but quiet breakup. Listening to Nishijima's soft but unyielding vocals, her description of the situation and the couple's neighbourhood creates an intimate atmosphere; something akin to one of the most famous folk songs in Japan, "Kandagawa"（神田川）by Kaguyahime（かぐや姫...Princess Kaguya) a few years back (already profiled). It would probably make a lot of listeners give off a wistful sigh.
Although Nishijima has had a career for the past few decades as an illustrator, less than a couple of weeks ago, she released a new single titled "Ikegami Sen Futatabi"（池上線ふたたび...Ikegami Line Revisited), created by her and lyricist Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）.
Both of my unsung heroines are represented here with this beautiful song. Mieko Nishijima（西島三重子), a native of Nakano Ward, Tokyo, often wrote about certain places in her city. "Ikegami-sen"（池上線...Ikegami Line) is her most famous song, but I also love this tune titled "Chitose Bashi"(Chitose Bridge) which actually exists in Nerima Ward, not too far from her home ward. Nishijima composed the song while Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二）provided the lyrics. I would have thought that Nishijima had also written the words as well since she puts so much emotion into them. The lyrics talk about a woman's wistful memories of a past love in her school days with Chitose Bashi as the romantic and literal centre of her relationship. The melody to me has this lovely lilt that Nishijima makes full use of, and though it is a kayo kyoku in every sense, there is this string instrument playing there which gives the song a somewhat Mediterranean feel. And strangely enough, if it had been translated into German, it wouldn't have been out of place during the more contemplative moments at a concert during Oktoberfest (OK....maybe it's time for me to hit the hay here).
In any case, the song was part of one of her albums released in October 1979. And that was as far as I could get in terms of information. Her website is currently under construction, and whatever is out there in terms of a discography is very sparse.
(May 31 2014: Unfortunately, the video has been taken down.)
Speaking of sparse, I also tried to track down where Ruiko Kurahashi's（倉橋ルイ子） version came from (just know that it had to have been done in the early-mid 80s). I have a number of albums by her, but none of them contain her "Chitose Bashi", even the BEST compilations. The only copy of it I have is on an old audio tape somewhere. If anyone reading this (hopefully, you, CC Baxter, my fellowRuiko fan from Mixi) can give me any insight, I would be eternally grateful.
Anyways, Ruiko's version also has a lovely but interestingly different arrangement in that it has a bit of a French jazziness (probably from the vibraphone).
For those who may want a bit of a palate-cleanser away from the aidoru songs, I can recommend these two chanteuses easily.
During the 70s, enka was the active traditional portion of kayo kyoku while the first big wave of aidoru washed ashore. There was also the folk boom and the rising tide of New Music. And to a smaller extent during that decade, there were these big-voiced male singers who also made their mark on stage and on the Oricon charts. I've profiled two such people already, Shigeru Matsuzaki（松崎しげる） and the late Kiyohiko Ozaki（尾崎紀世彦）.
Another one was Akira Fuse（布施明）. He was born in Mitaka City in the west end of Tokyo back in 1947, and had a hankering to get into showbiz after seeing his heroines, The Peanuts (already profiled). So, he made his debut in 1965 with "Kimi ni Namida to Hohoemi wo"（君に涙とほほえみを....Tears and Smiles for You). For the next several years, he would become a fixture on the pop charts as he belted his hits. Like Ozaki and Matsuzaki, he also had this debonair Western-style appearance which no doubt brought him the lion's share of female fans.
In January 1979, he got his next hit called "Kimi wa Bara yorimo Utsukushii"(You're More Beautiful Than Roses), a snappy pop affair with a big band sound and a touch of gospel. The song became the campaign song for Kanebo Cosmetics that year; the TV commercial starred British actress Olivia Hussey (who starred in the 1968 version of "Romeo and Juliet"). I mention this since a year later, she and Fuse would get married and have one child, Max. They later divorced nearly a decade afterwards.
Here is the 30-second commercial with Hussey. I still smirk a bit on hearing that slogan for Kanebo, "For Beautiful Human Life".
And here is the dapper Mr. Fuse in a live appearance. "Kimi wa Bara" was written by Kenji Kadoya（門谷憲二） and composed by the lead singer of Godiego（ゴダイゴ） himself, Mickey Yoshino（ミッキー吉野）. It peaked at No. 8 on the Oricon charts, and ended the year as the 40th-ranked song. Fuse would be invited onto the 1979 Kohaku Utagassen for the 16th time to perform his hit, and would reprise it three more times in 2003, 2007 and 2008.
