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.
I think it may have been commenter Brian who recently reminded me of anime's favourite boarding house "Maison Ikkoku"（めぞん一刻）by stating that it had celebrated a recent anniversary. And sure enough, we're all here again admiring Kyoko the boarding house manager. But I come here through a rather coincidental route. Yesterday, I was delighted to find out that one of the new anime for Spring 2026, "Ganbare! Nakamura-kun!!"（ガンバレ!中村くん!!...Go for It, Nakamura!）, has adopted the policy of using some of the Showa and Heisei Era hits to end each episode, and the ending theme for Episode 1 was Kozo Murashita's（村下孝蔵）wonderful "Hatsukoi"（初恋）. Let it make a resurgence, I say!
Well, I've only just discovered that another Murashita single had become the final opening theme for "Maison Ikkoku". I've heard of his September 1987 12th single"Hidamari" (Sunny Spot) but only as something that I probably listened to for the first time on "Sounds of Japan" decades ago. I didn't know of the anime's connection with the song but now I recognize it as being part of the "Maison Ikkoku" family along with Yuki Saito's（斉藤由貴）upbeat "Kanashimi yo Konnichiwa"（悲しみよこんにちは）and Anzen Chitai's（安全地帯）mysterious "Suki sa"（好きさ）.
I figure that if anime fans can enjoy the fruits of "Hatsukoi", then why not lead them to "Hidamari", the opening theme for this classic show of the 1980s? Murashita had been known as a singer-songwriter who flitted between folk and pop with ease, but the really skippy "Hidamari" is definitely in the latter genre as his lyrics talk about one fellow mightily pining for that young lady. Kimio Mizutani（水谷公生）was behind its arrangement as it hit No. 61 on Oricon.
Years ago, when we were all living in Japan, one of my friends, A-kun, related the story of when he and another mutual buddy, B-chan, had gone to a branch of Manga no Mori (a famous manga store franchise) in Ikebukuro near the Sunshine 60 Building. The two of them had their own preferences when browsing for Japanese comics so they promised that after half an hour or so, they would meet up near the cashier. A-kun had a pretty wide range of manga that he liked so he most likely went all over the store, but B-chan had specific genres in mind: magical girls, Takarazuka-like classical romances....and BL (boys' love). At the time, he hadn't been aware of that last one.
Well, the thirty-minute window passed by. A-kun was left waiting at the cashier for a few minutes but B-chan wouldn't show up, so he went to search for her. He finally did find her fully ensconced in one of those BL manga and when he approached her from behind to see what she was reading, she was taken by surprise. A-kun swore that B-chan threw away that BL manga like skipping a rock across a river. Apparently, it bounced twice and almost impaled another browser. It was on the level of Mio's own reaction above whenever anyone was about to find out her own love of creating BL. In any case, to her own dread, she was outed. Of course, neither A-kun nor I judged her on that.
In any case, the above preamble ramble was for me to introduce one of the new anime of the season "Ganbare! Nakamura-kun!!"（ガンバレ!中村くん!!...Go for It, Nakamura!）, adapted from a manga that had run for a couple of years in the mid-2010s. I'm not into BL at all but this anime looks pretty darn humorous as young Okuto Nakamura falls hard for classmate Aiki Hirose. As well, I like the old-fashioned style of the design of the characters...reminds me of the 80s.
Heck, the entire design of the opening credits felt like a time warp back to my high school and university days. And then there is the opening theme by Yasuyuki Okamura（岡村靖幸）and former Sexy Zone member Kento Nakajima（中島健人）. It was about thirteen years ago that Okamura came up with one of the coolest and funkiest anison, "Viva Namida"（ビバナミダ）for "Space Dandy"...man, time does fly, doesn't it? And I don't think the singer who has looked like the most dance-crazed corporate section chief had created any more anison until this one in 2026.
Well, with "Shunpatsuteki ni Koi Shiyou", which literally translates as "Let's Fall in Love Right Here and Now!" but whose official English title is "Sudden Spark", we have Okamura creating and arranging the song into another techno funk piece just like "Viva Namida". It's a whole lot shorter than "Viva Namida" but I figure since the song won't officially get onto the market until late May, here's hoping that it will get longer through another verse and/or instrumental bridge. I see that Okamura still likes to cut a rug.
Strangely enough, what got my attention on "Ganbare! Nakamura-kun!!" in the first place was the ending credits sequence. For the ending of each episode, a different old kayo kyoku or J-Pop hit from the Showa and Heisei eras will be played. Episode 1 has the late Kozo Murashita's（村下孝蔵）"Hatsukoi"（初恋）from 1983. Good choice! I always love it when the folks of today happily find out about a Japanese song from yesteryear.
In the post-Snowmageddon days, the one thing that I've had to endure are the rocky and slippery unplowed sidewalks. My leg muscles have gotten quite sore from the workout they've been getting trying to navigate the streets. It may be the only time that I have something in common with professional speed skaters...and hey, we've got the Winter Olympics coming up, don't we?
Anyways, keeping up with the winter theme, let's take a listen to this B-side from the late singer-songwriter Kozo Murashita's（村下孝蔵）August 1983 single"Odoriko"（踊り子）, "Fuyu Monogatari"(Winter Story). In contrast to the fairly jaunty A-side, "Fuyu Monogatari" is a beautifully arranged piano ballad of still pining for a past love. The song sounds as if it had a setting of somewhere in Europe but there is mention of a clock tower at least a couple of times in Murashita's lyrics, so I'm wondering if he'd been walking through Sapporo in Hokkaido instead.
The protagonist in the song has apparently been without his now-ex-paramour for over a year so he's been through the emotional wringer. I can only ask him to find a stylish cafe somewhere close by and get some cocoa to alleviate his symptoms.
On the J-Wiki article for "Odoriko", I found out that "Fuyu Monogatari" had been covered in 1987 by Hong Kong singer Sandy Lamb. It's known as 「也許當時年紀少」.
I've mentioned this once before, but I've always found it fascinating whenever I get to hear or see something that has had a long and venerable reputation in their earliest days because that is when I get to hear and see elements that existed back then but have since been smoothed out or eliminated immediately. That can be true from anything or anyone from a beloved TV series to a veteran singer.
Recently, I also discovered this as well with the late singer-songwriter Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）. For literally decades, I've been accustomed to listening to Murashita with his mellow and reassuring vocals which will always be recognizable to me. However, I learned that though his official discography began in 1980, he had released a self-produced album in 1979 titled "Sorezore no Kaze"（それぞれの風...Every Wind）, and on that album is the track "Yataizake" (A Drink at the Yatai).
by Eejyanaika at Wikimedia Commons
Now, as a quick aside...for those who may not know what a yatai（屋台）is, it's the traditional old wooden cart selling particular dishes whether it be ramen or oden. It's been seen as a mobile people's plaza, especially if it sets up shop regularly at night at a particular spot such as in front of a train station.
Anyways, "Yataizake" is a warmhearted country-style folk ballad about returning to that beloved yatai after some time away. The interesting part of this early Murashita song isn't the genre since folk was something that was naturally born to the singer, but it was his voice. It wasn't the familiar gliding voice but something that had a bit more of a rasp to it (maybe to reflect the time at the yatai). He was dipping down into the lower registers a bit more than usual but once he reached the main chorus, there were the hints for that amazing Murashita voice that I first got to know in the 1980s.
It's been mentioned that "Sorezore no Kaze", though it still exists as a rare LP, it's yet to get its release on other media including compact disc. Perhaps after 45 years, maybe it's time to do so.
Since it is a national holiday today here, it's time for a special Reminiscings of Youth article.
Back in mid-August, I posted that Misato Watanabe（渡辺美里）article regarding her debut single in 1985 which consisted of a couple of cover versions of Western hits, one of them being Asia's "Don't Cry". I also mentioned that I barely remember that one by the progressive rock supergroup. However, what I greatly remember from this conglomeration of members from King Crimson, Yes, and Emerson, Lake & Palmer is their April 1982 debut single (in the United States), "Heat of the Moment".
Not only was it one of the relatively few rock songs of the 1980s that I have truly cherished, but the music video of tic-tac-toe squares flashing different scenes in a relationship and the band actually performing is also one of the most memorable. Just from that video, I figured that "Heat of the Moment" deserved to be used in some thriller movie or police procedural scene...especially with that searing electric guitar intro.
Mind you, it did get its moments in "Supernatural" and "South Park".
And as a special guest cameo, here is heavy metal band Seikima II（聖飢魔II）giving their own fine take on the song. "Heat of the Moment" reached No. 4 on the Canadian and American charts. This became the calling card for Asia which is a bit of ironic considering that the band's label Geffen had asked them for just one more song for their first album, and the guys quickly came up with "Heat of the Moment" in the heat of the moment within an afternoon. On the song's Wikipedia article, it was also mentioned that synthesizer bridge was reinforced with the plucks of a koto for that Japanese connection. That bridge was used as background music for a local lunchtime news hour when it was time to go to commercial.
So, what other projects in Japan were released in April 1982?
I guess that title "Suna no Onna"(Woman in the Dunes) must have unlocked something within the Japanese to make it reusable over and over again. I know that I just wrote about Nako Mizumura's（水村なこ） "Suna no Onna" a few minutes ago, and perhaps there was at least one other song with that same title lurking somewhere in the annals of "Kayo Kyoku Plus". Of course, there is the 1962 novel "Suna no Onna" along with its cinematic adaptation.
Well, after finishing with Mizumura's song, I noticed that there was a song titled "Suna no Onna" by the late singer-songwriter Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）. I've taken this as an opportunity since I've always enjoyed his material and I haven't actually written up anything about his music in a few years...at least not since his 1991 "Kono Kuni ni Umarete Yokatta"（この国に生まれてよかった）. And hey, let's make this a thing with the "Suna no Onna" bandwagon.
Murashita's "Suna no Onna" was written and composed by the singer and arranged by Kimio Mizutani（水谷公生）. It was the first track on Murashita's 7th original album"Hidamari"（陽だまり...Sunny Spot） from October 1987. The singer first started out as the amiable folk balladeer but going further into the 1980s, he apparently did like his work on the synthesizers including his big 1983 hit, "Hatsukoi"（初恋）. "Suna no Onna" has got the technology in spades so that I couldn't help but place it as a technopop tune although it doesn't go too hard into YMO territory. "Hidamari" managed to peak at No. 33 on Oricon.
Welcome to another weekly edition of Reminiscings of Youth. When it comes to the rocking New Wave band Talking Heads, the subject of this article wasn't actually the first time that I had heard them. That prize goes to "Once in a Lifetime" from 1981 with that weird video of David Byrne looking like the most unpopular professor on campus while he's repeatedly proclaiming "You may find yourself...".
I will eventually come to that one for a ROY article later this year but I wanted to begin the Talking Heads file on KKP with their July 1983 single"Burning Down the House". The song wasn't only popular but its music video was in heavy rotation on the local Toronto video show "The CHUM 30 Countdown" and other similar programs. With this one and the one for "Once in a Lifetime", I had assumed that Talking Heads was a British band because my impression was that the really oddball videos came from the UK. Actually, they were from another island altogether: Rhode Island in the United States.
There's something like a "OK...let's get down to business!" beat with "Burning Down the House" which is why I've liked this one for so long. Maybe there was a movie or TV drama that used it during some sort of caper montage but if that were the case, I have yet to see it. The drumming and then the slashing guitar (or is that a keyboard?) in the bridge are my favourite parts of the song along with Byrne's unique vocals. "Burning Down the House" peaked at No. 9 on US Billboard and it was the Heads' highest-charting single there while in Canada, it went a tad higher by placing in at No. 8.
So, what was hitting the Oricon Top 10 for July 1983? Well, we've got Nos. 4, 5 and 7.
Well, I just noticed that with the weekend stuff, I forgot to provide the weekly Gosanke（御三家）entry. Must rectify. As was the case last weekend when I put up my own personally imagined trio of female singers based on my multiple listenings to the CHIN-FM radio program "Sounds of Japan", I figured that it was also time to give devotion to the male singers that had regular representation there, too. And as such, I recall hearing a number of songs from Hiromi Go（郷ひろみ）, Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）and the band Off-Course（オフコース）.
Up until this year, I hadn't written anything about the works of the late and great folk and pop singer-songwriterKozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）for about 3 years. In 2021, though, I'm glad to say that this will be a third article regarding one of his songs after "Chiisana Yane no Shita"（小さな屋根の下）and "Hokuto Shichisei"（北斗七星）back in the 1980s.
And it's usually been that decade in which I have found his songs but for this one, "Kono Kuni ni Umarete Yokatta" (I'm Glad That I Was Born In This Nation) was his 16th original single from November 1991. However, the melody and the lyrics by Murashita feel just like his past efforts: velvety vocals and relaxing countryside rhythms...all arranged by Kimio Mizutani（水谷公生）. "Kono Kuni ni Umarete Yokatta" was also a commemorative one for the singer because it was celebrating his 12th year in the music industry.
From what I've read on the article for this very song on J-Wiki, Murashita had wanted to create a tune showing a love for his native Japan that could be sung by others including children. It's not all that often to come across a J-Pop song celebrating its source country so it's definitely nice to find out about "Kono Kuni ni Umarete Yokatta" which was also a track on his 12th original album, "Na mo nai Hoshi"（名もない星...A Star with No Name）, from November 1992.
The song was also used in a House Foods commercial for its wasabi. Hey, can't get more Japanese than green horseradish!
It's a bit late in the hour for me to put up a third article tonight but I came across a tweet from a Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）fan that I couldn't ignore.
June 24th is already going through its paces in Japan as I type this, but the date also serves as the 22nd anniversary of the untimely passing of the velvet-voiced singer-songwriter at the age of 46 back in 1999. Murashita was one of the first Japanese pop singers that I encountered after becoming a fan of kayo kyoku, thanks to his huge 1983 hit "Hatsukoi"（初恋）on an episode of CHIN-FM's "Sounds of Japan" all those decades ago.
Well, hearing this particular song, I realized that "Hokuto Shichisei" (The Big Dipper) was lingering deep in my memories before it got finally unearthed again less than half an hour ago. This was also a Murashita song that I heard on "Sounds of Japan" and also like "Hatsukoi", it was Murashita for both words and music and then Kimio Mizutani（水谷公生）arranging everything. Also like that 1983 hit, "Hokuto Shichisei" is another solid pop hit with electric guitar and synth that feels very much like life in the city although I wouldn't place it as a City Pop song.
A track on his December 1984 album, "Hana Zakari"（花ざかり...Flowers in Full Bloom）,Murashita's lyrics talk of a fellow looking up from his window at the titular constellation and fantasizing about star-crossed lovers having a pleasant little dance up in the heavens. Going further into the words, he somehow finds himself in the dance with his own lady of his dreams. Knowing about the singer's folk roots and a topic such as this one for the song, I thought that this would have been a contemplative folksy ballad but instead "Hokuto Shichisei" is a pretty jaunty and fairly urban contemporary affair.
Here's hoping that his fans everywhere will be celebrating his life and songs on the 24th.
Well, it's been almost three years since I've put up a Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）article on "Kayo Kyoku Plus", and therefore, why not put up something appropriately soothing and summery for this Sunday night? It would be especially nice here in Toronto since we're going to be getting quite a bit of rain this coming week.
I found this song with the faint hint of the tropics titled "Chiisana Yane no Shita" (Under a Small Roof) as written and composed by Murashita. First recorded for his April 1981 sophomore album"Izuko e"（何処へ...To Where）, I think the song deserves its own cocktail with an umbrella although the lyrics by the late singer-songwriter describe a man's realization that his new life with his wife under modest surroundings is perfectly blissful. The luxury vacation to London or Paris will come in time but right now, let's enjoy domestic living. With some nice percussion to lead things, the smooth rhythms swim on out like graceful dolphins.🐬
Also on "Izuko e" is "Gozen Reiji"（午前零時）, something with a bit more of a rock n' roll feeling.
Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）...one of my touchstones, along with Iruka（イルカ）, Yumi Matsutoya（松任谷由実）and Hi-Fi Set（ハイ・ファイ・セット）when it comes to my memories of the radio show "Sounds of Japan". Yup, the late folk-&-pop singer with the voice of velvet was a frequent presence in the program as some of his songs greeted my ears.
And so I'm very glad that I was able to finally acquire his April 1982 album"Yume no Ato"(Remains of A Dream) since a number of those songs that I heard on "Sounds of Japan" are part and parcel of this album. In fact, I've already spoken about three of them, the calming "Ashita Areba Koso"（明日あればこそ）, "Yuko" and "Kagero"（ゆうこ・陽炎）, the last two songs on opposites sides of the same single. By the way, all of the tracks on the album were written and composed by Murashita with Kimio Mizutani（水谷公生）handling the arrangement.
The title track launches things right off the bat, and sure enough, I remember it as yet another one of Murashita's songs that made it onto my old radio show. "Yume no Ato" is a bittersweet song about a man returning to his old town and his old flame's apartment after a year, and seeing that her name is no longer there. Perhaps the theme is "You can't go home again" but the melody is the bouncy and jaunty and folksy stream that I've usually characterized as a Murashita composition. Interestingly enough, the description of that town in the song reminded me of a lot of places such as Nagasaki for which I was translating travel articles about up to earlier this year.
"Rishuu"（離愁）, which I heard for the first time when I got the CD, has been translated on jisho.org as "sorrow of parting". However, I would like to use an oft-used phrase and adopt it as the translation for this ballad "Parting Is Sweet Sorrow". A couple spends their last few hours and minutes together before they split apart forever. Murashita can really write up a setting in his lyrics. In this case, he includes a dog barking in the distance, the first train of the day arriving, a radio at low volume, and the scene of the man waving to his departing former girlfriend as a sign of friendship. All this happening while there is deep sadness welling up in the guy. I think a lot of us have been there.
"Shatou"（斜塔...Leaning Tower）is the big surprise. Yes, I do remember hearing this one, too, on "Sounds of Japan" but I had no idea it was a Murashita effort. I should have, since Murashita has a distinctive voice but for whatever reason, I couldn't remember. Probably the reason is that it's not only very genki (that "woo, woo, woo" in the intro, for instance...almost like something from a doo-wop group) but his lyrics are a celebration of living life large in the big city...namely Tokyo. I think it describes a fellow, maybe the singer himself, arriving in the metropolis and just soaking in all of the neon, the pay phones and the taxis milling about. I definitely can relate to that feeling of urban euphoria.
Listening to these concert versions of Murashita's songs has been quite revealing since he could have been singing in a huge stadium and yet his style and delivery were such that it sounded as if he were singing around a campfire to his closest friends. He had that intimate touch. That is certainly the feeling with the final track "Yuuyake no Machi"（夕焼けの町...Town in the Evening Glow） for which Murashita sings about the warmth and love for his hometown. As he expressed in the lyrics, it may not be rich in money but it's still rich in beauty. And once again, I heard this first on "Sounds of Japan".
So you can imagine that coming to "Yume no Ato" was like coming home again. A lot of good memories are imbued into this one album. For anyone who has enjoyed these songs, I would heartily recommend it. The album peaked at No. 49 on Oricon.
It's been a good long while since I put up a Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）song so to prepare, I listened to his first BEST compilation "Utabito - Song Collection -"（歌人〜ソングコレクション〜...Poet）from May 1984. I only have three of his albums including "Utabito" so it's nowhere near his total output so my image of him includes that lovely cover above which was illustrated by Tamotsu Murakami（村上保）. My other image is of him strumming on the guitar in a business suit while sitting on a stool.
Over the years, I've come to realize that the late singer-songwriter also had a distinctive sound. It wasn't just his unique voice but also how Murashita melded the folksy flavour of his music with synths as was the case with his most successful pop hit, "Hatsukoi"（初恋）, and also a bit of urgent rock. This would apply here with "Gozen Reiji". Now I was going to translate this as "12 Midnight" but I also saw some YouTuber write it down as "AM 0:00" which looked cooler so I went with that.
Murashita did indeed write and compose "Gozen Reiji" originally as a track for his 2nd album"Izuko e"（何処へ...To Where）from April 1981. But despite the first few notes of gentle piano, a cool rock rumble suddenly floods in thanks to an echoing electric guitar and some crashing percussion. It's not exactly the balladeer Murashita I've come to know but that's perfectly fine. He and his work here are kakkoii!
I would even posit that the song kinda takes him and us into the territory of Yosui Inoue（井上陽水）or Shogo Hamada（浜田省吾）. A sports car doesn't even enter my mind when imagining the setting for "Gozen Reiji". It has to be a motorcycle bombing down that highway...no other conveyance will do. And according to the lyrics, the rider isn't in a happy place right now. It's not a sleepy and peaceful midnight; the poor guy is going out of his mind due to a possible crash in his relationship, and he's kicking himself in the head for being such a wuss...and if he doesn't stop by a McDonalds somewhere, he and Yamaha may end up wrapped around a pole permanently.
One commenter on YouTube also made the point but I have to toast my glass to Murashita in terms of the clever way he put the words "kurai, kurai"（暗い暗い...dark, dark）in the chorus to also sound like "cry, cry". Well played, sir! And I have to give my compliments to the guy who made the video directly above...very slick.
The expression harusame can mean spring rain or those glass noodles used in dishes such as sukiyaki. I do like my sukiyaki in the late fall and winter but frankly speaking my next statement will probably have the Sukiyaki Friendship Society not being so friendly toward me, but I have to say that raw egg is a deal breaker for me. Not that having some of that customary raw egg as a dipping sauce for the sukiyaki goodies destroyed my intestines in my past but as I grew up, I learned to dislike anything slimy when it comes to food. So, stuff like natto, shiokara and tororo is stuff I stay far away from. Raw egg has assaulted me once but that was my fault and it didn't involve sukiyaki.
Perhaps not the smoothest segue to the topic of this entry but here I am writing about Kozo Murashita's（村下孝蔵）"Harusame", and yep, I am assuming that the singer-songwriter was crooning more about the meteorological event than the ingredient for sukiyaki.
Actually, I got to this point to writing about Murashita's 2nd single from January 1981 due to a talk that I had with JTM last night. A day earlier, he was kind enough to send me an excerpt of a Shizuoka radio program titled "Tetsuji Hayashi & Kento Handa: Showa Ongakudo"（林哲司&半田健人 昭和音楽堂...Showa Music Hall） which is a weekly half-hour show starring songwriter Hayashi and actor Handa as they focus on a certain singer from the 1970s-1990s and his/her works. The focus on the particular broadcast that JTM sent me was Kozo Murashita and so I got to re-hear "Harusame" once more. I believe I may have actually heard it once before on another old radio program of my youth "Sounds of Japan".
In any case, "Harusame" is another wonderful...and early...Murashita concoction with the singer's wonderfully resonant pipes and his gentle flowing music. His lyrics are actually about the slow disintegration of a once-happy relationship but, man, Murashita the songwriter can even make heartbreak sound lovely!
"Harusame" only got as high as No. 58 on Oricon and was a track on his 2nd album from April 1981, "Izuko e"（何処へ...To Where）. Perhaps it was a modest result for Murashita but as JTM and I were discussing last night, it went to show that the late singer was or had been underrated. He didn't look anything like a Johnny's aidoru of that time or a hip artist in flashy clothing. From his concerts, he appeared very down-to-earth as if he had to rush back home after a performance to get dinner ready for his kids. But his somewhat roly-poly appearance belied some wonderful vocal ability and a calming figure as he sat on a stool and strummed his guitar on the stage. He passed away several years ago he is still missed.
Keeping with today's theme of worthy B-sides that I started with Tomoyo Harada（原田知世）this morning, I found another one with another singer from the 1980s, the late Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）.
"Oka no Ue kara" (From The Top of the Hill) was the B-side to Murashita's biggest hit, "Hatsukoi"（初恋）released in February 1983. The singer-songwriter was playing around with synthesizers during that time including in his magnum opus, but with "Oka no Ue kara", it was more back to his folky roots as he crooned about the sweet sorrow of parting while on the top of the hill that he and his old flame had frequented in happier times.
(cover version)
Languid as a calm brook, the effect was further heightened with a country-like twang thanks to what sounded like an old steel pedal although there was a slow and majestic bass line that hinted at the finality of the relationship. It was quite the counterpart to the jumpy city beat of "Hatsukoi".
I've always loved that cover on Kozo Murashita's（村下孝蔵）"Utabito ~ Song Collection"（歌人〜ソングコレクション〜......Poet)...so very innocent and Japanese.
From that first BEST compilation (1984) by the late singer-songwriter, I came across the lovely "Renga Douri"(Brick Road). He can tenderize any ballad about lost love into a musical filet mignon. At first, I had thought that the song was about some poor fellow pining for some unrequited love, but then the lyrics revealed that it was more of a past love that he was feeling miserable about. The woman in question lived on that old apartment he used to know intimately on that brick road.
Originally released as a track of Murashita's debut album, "Kiteki ga Kikoeru Machi"（汽笛が聞こえる街...The Town Where I Can Hear The Steam Whistle） in July 1980, the ballad is beautiful but probably not the thing to hear just after a breakup. And perhaps a more upbeat tune would have been more apropos for a Friday night, but it's been a good long while since I put up one of his songs, and it's very relaxing to hear some of his old tunes. I also have to say that the video above is really well done and I hope it stays up a good long time (sorry, but it didn't).
About a couple of weeks ago, commenter Ranawaka Aruna mentioned about an old folk song by the title of "Ni-juu-ni Sai no Wakare" (Parting at 22). As is often the case with me, that title didn't ring any bells but the melody certainly did. I've heard it at different times and possibly it was even featured on "Sounds of Japan".
Singer-songwriter Shozo Ise（伊勢正三）had originally pulled double duty with the music and lyrics for "Ni-juu-ni Sai no Wakare" and the even more famous "Nagori Yuki"（なごり雪）while he was with the folk group Kaguyahime（かぐや姫）. The two songs were placed into the band's 4th album,"Sankai Date no Uta"（三階建の詩...A Three-Storey Poem）which came out in March 1974 and hit the top spot onOricon. It would not only become the 5th-ranked album for the year but would also be the 27th-ranked album of 1975. But despite the song's eventual status as one of the more well-remembered J-Folk entries, it was never released as its own single during Kaguyahime's first run between 1970 and 1975.
However, it was released for the first time as a single when Ise formed the duo Kaze（風）in 1975. In fact, "Ni-juu-ni Sai no Wakare" was the debut single for Ise and Kazuhisa Okubo（大久保一久）, released in February 1975. It became the duo's biggest hit as it hit No. 1 and became the year's 7th-ranked song. According to an article by music critic Issei Tomisawa for the book "An Encyclopedia of 300 Famous Folk Songs" (title translated from the original Japanese), the ballad sold a shade over 700,000 records.
Almost a decade later, the original Kaguyahime recording of "Ni-juu-ni Sai no Wakare" was used as the ending theme for an NTV drama and released as its own single. After listening to both versions, I didn't particularly hear any major differences between the Kaguyahime and Kaze takes; both of them have that appealing guitar melody as Ise sings about that venerable trope of parting being such sweet sorrow. It's the type of song that would have any generation getting a bit contemplative about life.
I did come across some interesting information at the bottom of the J-Wiki article for "Ni-juu-ni Sai no Wakare" in which Ise gave an interview for the journal "Sotetsu Kawarahan"（相鉄瓦版）Issue 126 several years back. In it, he mentioned about the circumstances behind the creation of those two songs for the album "Sankai Date no Uta". He had first written and composed "Nagori Yuki" as a creation that he personally liked, but for some reason, he became discouraged with it thinking that it would never become a hit. He then decided to burn the midnight oil one night to make "Ni-juu-ni Sai no Wakare" for the purposes of making a hit that would sell the vinyl.
But this begets the question: Why was the latter never released as a single after all while the former was? Well, at least the long-range answer had a happier result. Both are now considered classics of the genre, although "Nagori Yuki" got its boost thanks to Iruka's（イルカ）cover. Of course, "Ni-juu-ni Sai no Wakare" has been covered by a number of artists ranging from the late Kozo Murashita（村下孝蔵）to Akina Nakamori（中森明菜）.
It was March 1991 when Kozo Murashita (村下孝蔵) released his 18th single named "Akina" (アキナ). The title was written in Katakana, but it has the same pronunciation as the famous singer Akina Nakamori (中森明菜).
The protagonist in the lyrics was a young girl whom Murashita described as fully baptized by the joy and sorrow of love, someone who just wholeheartedly devoted to her dreams, a gypsy (love wanderer) as a result of begin shaken by the brittleness of love. "Sing for us!" Murashita called on her. "Please blossom! Please show us your cute little smile of yesterday!" he yelled.
It was a song meant to comfort, a cheer up song for a girl who was lost in love.
Although the title of the song, "Akina", represents a generic girl's name, Murashita wanted to dedicate this song to Akina Nakamori, and wrote the lyrics with her and her story in mind. It was indeed a cheer up song dedicated to Akina.
Here's a paragraph of the lyrics which I found moving:
歌ってくれ 澄んだ声で
Sing for us! With your sunny cheerful voice.
手おいの白鳥
You're one wounded swan
オレの胸で 深く 泣きな
I'll lend you my shoulder for your deep sorrows
涙はこの手で 受けてやる
My hands will be holding your tear drops for you
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On July 11, 1989, Akina was found unconscious in Masahiko Kondo's (近藤真彦, nicknamed Matchy) apartment. She appeared to have committed suicide, but was rescued eventually. The reason was rumored (technically I think it was a rumor but in fact it is the truth) to be the culmination of her drawn-out and difficult relationship with Matchy. Her attempted suicide resulted in a year long rest and rehabilitation. Even though she came back with her new single in summer 1990, she was never the same again, both career-wise and personality-wise.
It was under this backdrop that Kozo Murashita dedicated this song to her. In Murashita's CD album, Tanabata Yasoukyoku (七夕夜想曲), producer Sudoh Akira (須藤晃) wrote in the accompanying booklet:
We (he and Murashita) both are Akina fans. So we decided to create a song to encourage her and cheer her up. We wanted to contact Akina in person and send our warmest wishes, but to no avail. In any case, we're glad that we could return this song, singer to singer, out of respect to all the songs that she sang for us.
Years later, Akina Nakamori was invited to an interview. When the interviewer mentioned this particular Murashita's song, she was caught by surprise and indicated she didn't know anything about it. She was extremely happy and thankful. Unable to respond, Akina bursted into tears. By that time, Kozo Murashita had already passed away (he died in June 1999).
It was this behind the scene story that prompted Akina to cover Kozo Murashita's Odoriko (踊り子) in her cover album, Utahime 3 (歌姫３), in the year 2003. It was her way to pay respect to this singer songwriter, who dedicated a song to her in her darkest days, despite the fact that she was unaware of it at that time.
Odoriko was a song about 2 lovers in a difficult struggling relationship. Murashita used odoriko, which means dancing girl, as an analogy to describe how fragile and unstable that relationship was. It's as perilous as a ballet dancer dancing on her tiptoe. Both wanted to escape but they couldn't, so they stayed together. There's also an alternative interpretation that says that the love relationship in the song was actually an affair, due to the reference 裏の路地, which means back-alley. Anyway, it's a sad song to me.
I actually listened to Akina's version first before I listened to Murashita's original. Maybe it's first impression but through her seeming sobbing voice, I've accepted Akina's interpretation. So when I listened to the original version, it felt strange because (1) Murashita's tempo is much faster and it dilutes the sadness (2) Murashita's voice was not sad but indifferent. It was like an old couple who hung on to their unhappy marriage and eventually accepted it as fate.
To this date, I still feel strange listening to Murashita's version of Odoriko.
I saw Hiroko Mita's （三田寛子）"Nogiku Ichirin"(A Wild Chrysanthemum) as one of the tracks on one of my old Chinatown-bought compilation tapes yesterday so I decided to write about it today. And since I only mentioned the 80s aidoruvery briefly for one other article a couple of years ago, it was time to give her some more attention.
Yoko Aki and Kozo Murashita（阿木燿子・村下孝蔵）created Mita's 6th single from September 1983, and listening to it once more after so long, I could pick up the late Murashita's wistful style in composing it. Aki's lyrics mention about a girl's longing for the attention of that one guy, but the first line of the song got my attention: "Izayoi no tsuki wa hito machi zuki"（十六夜の月は人待ち月）which means "The moon on the 16th night (of the lunar calendar) is a moon of expectation". According to one person through a Q&A on Yahoo, "izayoi"「十六夜」is used a fair bit in songs and other examples of pop culture. I've also come across the term now and then and apparently it is an abstract term referring to the slowing down of things and has a somewhat autumnal tone. Considering it was released in September and it is September now as I write this, there is a bit of providence about this article. And also taking into account that autumn has often been used to reflect the end of a romance, I gather that the girl's yearning will probably fall on deaf ears, figuratively speaking. One pink-coloured sigh coming up!
Mita was someone whose aidoru career I never followed very closely. I remember her more as a giddy tarento on variety shows, especially in one bit during a location shoot where she freaked out over some flying insects. My impression is that she probably got onto the blooper reels a lot. Born Atsuko Inagaki（稲垣敦子）in 1966 in Kyoto, she actually got her show business start as a magazine model and then got her first acting role as a high school student in the famous school drama "Ni-nen B-gumi Kinpachi Sensei"（２年Ｂ組金八先生...Mr. Kinpachi of 2B）in 1981 on TBS. A year later, she would mark her aidoru debut with "Kaketekita Otome"（駈けてきた処女...The Dashing Maiden）which got as high as No. 21 on Oricon.
Among her interests are calligraphy, tea ceremony and making (Japanese-style?) candy which are hobbies that I could see as being representative of her hometown. She married kabuki actor Hashinosuke Nakamura III（中村橋之助 (3代目)）in 1991.
Another singer whose work I haven't revisited in some time. Nice to see him again. I've known the late Kozo Murashita （村下孝蔵）as a singer-songwriter who created some wonderful folk ballads and uptempo pop songs with that early 80s synth sound. "Yume no Tsuzuki" (The Dream Goes On) is one of the latter type in the same vein as his biggest hit from a year previously, "Hatsukoi"（初恋...First Love）.
"Yume no Tsuzuki" was Murashita's 8th single from September 1984. I first heard it on "Sounds of Japan", and it has that interesting mix of a near-balletic main melody supported by a surprisingly booming synth. After listening to it the first time, I had initially thought that one of the guys from YMO had a hand in its creation, but it was all Murashita with Kimio Mizutani（水谷公生）handling the arrangements as both did for "Hatsukoi". The song didn't do quite as well as that big hit, but "Yume no Tsuzuki" did score on the Oricon Top 100 by topping out at No. 50, and I think it's still pretty jaunty.
The above YouTube link will take you to the song accompanying a slideshow of the ladies from Perfume, although the uploader may have turned up one of the dials on his stereo a little too high. However, the link below will take you to the original music video for "Yume no Tsuzuki" which is pretty special since the animation is by Tamotsu Murakami（村上保）, the kiri-e artist who also came up with designs for the covers of a number of Murashita's albums. Just watching it brought a good deal of iyashi feeling to this author.
