Noelle's Favourite 1930s & 1940s Songs (Follow-up)

Lately, I've been in one of my early ryukoka phases. It's when I predominantly listen to songs from the 1930s to the early 1950s or so. It's most certainly because of the influence of Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan (東京大衆歌謡楽団) and taking Bin Uehara (上原敏) as my newest muse. But it's also due in part to my reignited love for Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫) and a burgeoning interest in Katsuhiko Haida (灰田勝彦), both of whom have recently provided much-needed pick-me-ups as I figure out how to move on after graduating from university. And, of course, there are the covers by Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) and stuff I learned from the karaoke. My once tiny collection of ryukoka has expanded greatly and I picked up many more favourites along the way from a myriad of artists. So, I'd like to share some of them with you guys in this instalment of "Favourite" Author's Picks.

Looking through my past Author's Picks writings, I realised that I had done a post on my favourite songs from the 1930s and 1940s in 2017 (geez, I actually forgot). Looking at my own selection, some of those picks actually withstood the test of time and I still love them to this day. Some of those artists will also reappear here, albeit with different titles to their names. Care to take a gander at who they may be? :) This entry is sort of a successor to my previous one and the rule of one song per singer for fairness' sake will be kept. The lyrics most resonant with me will also be noted. 

Just a couple of disclaimers before we begin: 

1. There are some songs that were originally duets where I only listed one singer. I did this because I prefer listening to their solo versions.

2. I tried putting in some translations for my favourite lyrics. Take them with a pinch of salt - my Japanese skills are (still) paltry.  

Without further ado, let's begin.

Bin Uehara -- Hatoba Katagi (1938)

Mamori toshite kita ore da (I’ve been protecting you with all my life)

Hatoba katagi wo shiranai ka (Don't you know that's the spirit of the wharf?)

Now, we can't have a prewar song list without Husbando 3, right? For some reason, I became enamoured by the clear and gentle vocals of this star from the 1930s who (low-key) looked like a studious accountant, getting hooked on his many samurai/ronin and sailor-themed discography. I've come to like a good number of those songs and it was hard to pick just the one. But, I think that accolade should go to "Hatoba Katagi" (波止場気質), my introductory song to all things Bin-san which I first heard as a cover by Hachi (well, well). I always found myself going back to this ditty about a sailor having to send off his beloved at the docks, loving both the jaunty melody and Bin-san's tender and forlorn vocals.

Ooooooossu!

Yoshio Tabata -- Otone Tsukiyo (1939)

Guchi janakeredo yo ga yo de areba (Not to complain, but it is what it is)

Tono no maneki no tsukimi zake (Having drinks admiring moon at a lord's invite)

Otoko Hirate to motehayasarete (Praised as the man, Hirate)

Ima ja ima ja ukiyo no sandogasa (But now, now he's just a wanderer in the floating world)

If you guessed Tabata as one who'd reappear, you're absolutely right. Batayan's been a constant favourite for as long as I can remember, his cool dude energy being a such joy to watch and hearing the brassy twang of his trusty guitar gives me goosebumps. He was also pretty cute. But, for personal reasons, he never really got past my top 5 and into Husbando territory. (Noelle from 18/4/23: Yeah, that statement didn't age well.)

Last time, I picked "Genkai Blues" (玄海ブルース), but I am fairly certain that it was a toss-up between that and "Otone Tsukiyo" (大利根月夜). The same thing happened this time, but the latter came out on top instead. "Otone Tsukiyo" was my introduction to the exuberant singer and one of the first of many ronin-themed tunes I would come to like. Its grand sound really gives the disgraced samurai figure of Miki Hirate such a heroic edge, and I can't get enough of those amazing guitar solos - twice in just this one! Speaking of Batayan and his guitar, he seemed to have been so particular about it that he would insist on having its amplifier be placed where he could "see its sound or it won't do." Batayan, you're literally the "I can hear colours" meme, and that's why I love you.  

Katsuhiko Haida -- Jawa no Mango Uri (1942)

Kage e no shibai ka gameran mo tanoshiya (A shadow puppet show? The gamelan's great too!)

Aa Jawa no mango uri (Ah, the Java mango seller)

Among the veterans on this list, Haida was the one I least expected to show up here. And yet, here he is with his ukulele and flower lei thanks to "Jawa no Mango Uri" (ジャワのマンゴ売り). Perhaps it's because of the exotic and sultry sound. Perhaps I just like it when Haida sings "gamelan" and "mango" in that strange yet silky crooning of his, but I ended up taking to "Jawa no Mango Uri" way more than I had expected. How has he already propelled up to Batayan's level from absolutely nowhere in my books?? 

Tadaharu Nakano -- China Tango (1939)

Charumera mo kiete yuku (The charamela has disappeared)

Tooi akai hi aoi hi mo (So have the faraway red and blue lights)

Kuniang no maegami no (The young lady's bangs)

Yarusenakunaku yo wa fukeru (The night deepens without any sorrows)

From the island of Java, we go north to China. I never knew how much I liked China-themed songs until the Asakusa Bois came along. It's kind of kitschy, but also somewhat familiar. "China Tango", originally by Nakano, is one of them with its snappy tango melody and romantically sweet lyrics that paint a dreamy image of a Chinese port town at nightfall. Be it Kotaro or Nakano, the way they belt out the chorus never fails to impress me. Needless to say, this is one of the songs I look forward to the most when I watch the Takashima Brothers and gang. It doesn't appear on their setlists often, but I've been lucky to catch it in the times I've seen them in person and it never fails to brighten my day.

Haruo Oka -- Shanghai no Hanauri Musume (1938)

Hoshi mo kokyu mo kohaku no sake mo (The stars, the kokyu, and the amber sake)

Yume no Shanghai hanauri musume (The flower-selling girl of the dreamy Shanghai)

Speaking of China-themed tunes and song introductions via the Takashima Brothers, we head to metropolitan Shanghai with "Shanghai no Hanauri Musume"(上海の花売娘). Like Batayan, Okapparu makes his appearance here as well, this time with an entry from his well-regarded "Hanauri Musume series" (Flower selling girl series), the very first one, in fact. A bright and joyful number, Okapparu relates the scene of a flower seller at the docks of Shanghai in his clear and chirpy style. 

Dick Mine -- Nagasaki Elegy (1947)

Kino futta wa konuka ame (Yesterday's rain was a light drizzle)

Kyo wa namida no ame ga furu (Today's rain is my tears)

Yume no Nagasaki ai yoru tama wo (In the dreamy Nagasaki, our spirits as one)

Musube yogiri no abe Maria (Wrapped in the night fog, Ave Maria)

Welcome back to Japan, specifically to Nagasaki, with yet another recurring artist. I'd say Mine's "Nagasaki Elegy" (長崎エレジー) is a strong contender for my favourite Nagasaki-themed song, and I think my recent trip to the prefecture only amplified that. The swelling strings, upbeat tempo, and earnest vocals of whoever takes it on give "Nagasaki Elegy" this mix of sadness and hopefulness that I can't get enough of. Mine's rendition is great, but I do love Hachi's and Batayan's versions as well.

Akiko Kikuchi -- Hoshi no Nagare ni (1947)

Uete imagoro imouto wa doko ni (I wonder where my starving sister is now)

Hito me aitai okaasan (Just once, I want to see my mother again)

This one brings back so many bittersweet memories of my first year at university - what a ride it was. Kikuchi's jazzy tune is so visceral in its depiction of anguish, reaching its tipping point at each chorus. An apt representation of the immediate postwar period, but emotions do transcend time. While my troubles are nowhere near as harsh as what "Hoshi no Nagare ni" (星の流れに) implies, just the feelings conveyed through Kikuchi's sorrowful delivery with an element of resignation really hit hard at times. But it's exactly that which brings me back to it. Plus, I do love a good jazz-inspired song. 

Minoru Obata -- Onna Keizu no Uta (Yushima no Shiraume) (1942)

Shiruya shiraume tamagaki ni (Don't you know, white plum blossoms, on the shrine fences)

Nokoru futari no kageboshi (Remains their silhouette)

If I were to use a single word to describe "Yushima no Shiraume" (湯島の白梅), I'd say "beautiful". The elegant and dramatic strings and horns, Obata's genteel and deliberate crooning, and the image of blooming plum blossoms in early spring. Yet, it's the stage for a romantic tragedy between the geisha Otsuta and her lover Chikara from the book-turned-film, "Onna Keizu" (婦系図). Still, there's no better time to listen to this than now as the plum blossoms bloom.

Shigeo Kusunoki -- Onna no Kaikyu (1935)

Kokoro kudakedo mamanaranu (A broken heart is beyond my control)

Tsurai ukiyo no sayoarashi (The painful floating world's night gale)

I feel like "Onna no Kaikyu" (女の階級) is one of those songs that is simultaneously popular and unknown. It doesn't make much sense, but that's my impression based on my contradicting experience with it. Veteran Kusunoki was the original artist, but I see more covers of this track by enka singers through the ages than his original on YouTube. Yet, when I'm at the karaoke, the oldies aren't too familiar with it. Nevertheless, I somehow got hooked on this spunky Koga Melody. It's likely because the orchestra goes on full blast at a frenetic speed in the original, and simply because I like hearing the likes of Hachi doing incredible vocal gymnastics to pull it off in the covers.

And that, folks, has been an updated take on some of my favourite songs from the immediate pre and postwar eras. As I previously mentioned ages ago, somehow, these songs have incredible staying power in my head. But, I suppose that's why they're still being enjoyed more than seven decades later. 

Man, 2017 Noelle wouldn't have believed this list if I showed it to her. I can imagine: "Batayan, yeah, but who's... Bin? And the baseball guy? rEalLy??"

I ended off my previous list with madorosu Batayan, so I shall do the same here. 

Noelle's Nagasaki Expedition (Nagasaki Song List)

I'd never been to Kyushu before, let alone Nagasaki. So, last December, my mom and I decided to use the opportunity to explore this culturally and historically rich part of Kyushu. Much of what I know about Nagasaki comes from a combination of enka/ryukoka/mood kayo, travel shows, and classes on Japanese history. Because it was the main (at times the only) port of entry into Japan for foreigners back in the day, traces of Chinese and Western influences are particularly strong. Case in point, a Chinatown and Holland Land (Huis Ten Bosch) in just one prefecture. It was where Christianity thrived, but was also the site where its persecution was particularly intense during the Edo era. It is one of the most featured locations in enka and mood kayo. It is where Kiyoshi Maekawa (前川清) is from! Needless to say, I was stoked to visit such an iconic place.

We were in Nagasaki city for about four days and I thoroughly enjoyed my time there. The food was mostly great, the city picturesque with Chinese and western colonial architecture, and it had a rather quaint atmosphere. Oddly enough, the cultural mix and hilly terrain reminded me of Hong Kong and just a hint of Singapore. I would like to share some highlights through the Nagasaki-themed songs I filled my ears with throughout the trip. Nagasaki songs, particularly those from the early Showa era, seemed to have a more exotic and European sound, if not Chinese, but my selection here mainly features the former. I'm not very familiar with European music, but I reckon some melodies could be Portuguese-influenced.

If you know other tunes featuring Nagasaki, feel free to mention them too. With that said, let's begin.

Hachiro Kasuga -- Nagasaki no Hito (長崎の女)

We kick things off with Hachi's signature, "Nagasaki no Hito". I thought it was a pretty good way to begin the trip since it sounds rather bright while describing the features of the city, like the sotetsu (Japanese sago palm), ishi-datami (cobblestone paths), the minato machi (port town), Oranda-zaka (Hollander Slope), etc. It fit the only day when the weather was clear and we were able to take a stroll down the port. We did see sotetsu. Many sotetsu. Seeing palm trees thriving in winter was a first for me.

Akira Nakai, Masaru Takahashi & Coloratino -- Shianbashi Blues (思案橋ブルース)

After our walk, we headed to a place featured in one of my favourite mood kayo songs and karaoke go-to's, Shianbashi. It's basically a watering hole with a number of Chinese joints and bars. Kinda seedy, but not unexpected, considering it's a mood kayo staple. The wistfulness conveyed by lead vocalist Nakai's high tenor in the original "Shianbashi Blues" fits perfectly in the warm, neon-lit streets of Shianbashi, but more so when it's raining... which would come later...

We then adjourned to Tsuruchan, a Nagasaki institution. This more-than-a-century-old kissaten is renowned for a Nagasaki B-grade gourmet food, Toruko raisu (Turkish rice). I don't think there's anything Turkish about it, but to say that it was hearty was an understatement: large servings of double carbs (napolitan spaghetti plus rice pilaf) and a slab of tonkatsu with gravy. Never had a, "Gochisousan" been more appropriate after I polished off everything. Mom would later remark that she'd never seen me eat that much carbs in one sitting before. Neither have I, mother.

Uchiyamada Hiroshi & The Cool Five -- Nagasaki wa Kyou mo Ame data (長崎は今日も雨だった)

Mae-Kiyo and the Cool Five finally make their appearance! Yes, I had saved the Nagasaki-made group's iconic hit for Day 2 of our trip because that's when the rain came. A lot of it. I don't like rain, but I took it as an opportunity to experience what most Nagasaki songs feature. Also, there's just a warm feeling when you hear one of your beloved singers' songs that first got you into him at the place he came from.

Later in the day, mother and I finally found and visited Glover Garden. Besides the fact that this residence of the titular Scottish businessman is a famed historical spot in Nagasaki, we wanted to go up there because the Glover house was often used in extremely cheesy and cringe-worthy karaoke videos from the 1970s and 80s, some featuring Mae-Kiyo and his cronies. I still cannot bear to rewatch some of those videos because I die of secondhand cringe every time. It was a beautiful place, however, with an amazing view of the bay and city, especially in the evening. We also did the tourist thing of having castella and tea at a cafe on the premises. Castella is... cake. That's all I can say. But its worth got elevated because I was cold, drenched, and hungry.

Dick Mine & Sendaka Fujiwara -- Nagasaki Elegy (長崎エレジー)

Before ending our day a Glover Garden, we first began the day going uphill. Up Oranda-zaka and exploring the old grounds of a Catholic/Christian girls' school (I forgot what it was called). In the rain. Oranda-zaka and the surrounding slopes were really steep and lined with cobblestone, so the anxiety from trying to slide down the hill was palpable. Oura Cathedral was the main checkpoint in mind. It was one of the well-known churches from the persecution days and I believe where Christianity was "rediscovered" in Japan once the hunt was over. Rather poignant, especially under the grey skies, light rain, and with Mother Mary watching over the town from up a hill. So, I thought "Nagasaki Elegy" was fitting with its references to Catholicism and a fine drizzle. Also, this song was constantly running through my head throughout my time in Nagasaki.

Ichiro Fujiyama -- Nagasaki no Kane (長崎の鐘)

On the note of poignant, nothing was more so than the Nagasaki Peace Park and Ground Zero for the atomic bomb. It was chilling to read survivors' accounts and to imagine what it must've been like then and there. And yet, it was tranquil and there was a sense of hopefulness that radiated from tributes to the victims of the devastation and monuments symbolizing the strive for peace. One of these sculptures was the Nagasaki no Kane (Bell of Nagasaki). According to the J-Wiki, it was built in 1977 in memory of military factory workers, many of whom were school students, who perished when the bomb hit a nearby factory.

Fujiyama's solemn "Nagasaki no Kane", though only related to the structure by name, quite aptly represents the gravity of this place. I feel it does this through the initial hopelessness that morphs into strength to carry on upon hearing the bells of the Nagasaki cathedrals toll in each stanza. An emotional song to fit such a significant place.

Uchiyamada Hiroshi & The Cool Five -- Omoikiri Bashi (思い切り橋)

On a lighter note, Chinatown and Megane Bashi (Spectacles Bridge) were next on the itinerary. Compared to Yokohama's Chinatown, Nagasaki's felt more... real? Less kitschy. There was a section that you could easily tell was geared towards tourists, but outside that bubble was a much larger, proper local suburb/settlement dotted with old Chinese Buddhist temples and a Hokkien clan association. Connecting Chinatown to other parts of town were bridges. Many bridges. That's not to be unexpected since the city is by the coast with many waterways. And one of the most iconic bridges is the Megane Bashi, a cobblestone bridge with two perfect arches that stretches over a tiny section of the Nakashima river. I believe it's Japan's oldest surviving arched bridge, but I could be wrong. It was very picturesque, especially when you see its reflection on the surface of the water.

I don't know any kayo that feature this bridge specifically but as an ode to the many ancient bridges in the area, I bring another Cool Five tune, "Omoikiri Bashi". A very dramatic and jaunty number with Mae-Kiyo's recognizable anguished cries.

Minoru Obata -- Nagasaki no Zabon Uri (長崎のザボン売り)

Along the uber-long, more than a-century-old shopping street that follows the Nakashima river, my eyes picked up an old, rather Chinese-style sundries store. It oozed early Showa-era vibes, but what stole my attention was a pile of pomelos inside. Despite the freezing rain, I couldn't help but smile because the very first Nagasaki-themed kayo I'd heard came to mind, Obata's cheerful "Nagasaki no Zabon Uri". It wasn't on one of the steep inclines of the city, the store was empty, and I don't even think pomelos were actually much of a thing in Nagasaki despite the Chinese settlement, but it was just a happy little coincidence to add to my Nagasaki song experience.

Yuri Akemi -- Nagasaki Monogatari (長崎物語)

On our final day before heading off to the airport, we checked out Dejima, where the Dutch settlers were confined during Tokugawa's reign in an attempt to stave off religious influence. It had been made into a sort of open-air museum with preserved Dutch-style buildings. "Nagasaki Monogatari" is one such song that gives a shout-out to the little island, among other Nagasaki tropes while telling the tragic story of one Jagatara Oharu (じゃがたらお春). 

Shizuo Higuchi -- Nagasaki Chanson (長崎シャンソン)

Ah, yes, traditional Japanese cuisine

Rounding off the trip was lunch at a family grill restaurant where Mom and I tried the Sasebo burger, the taberu milkshake (a milkshake you eat, not drink), and the lemon steak. It was pretty decent fare, with the latter being more delicious than it sounds. On the way back, I had Higuchi's exotic and jiving "Nagasaki Chanson" in my ears. Having enjoyed my time in the city, even with the rain, I think I can agree with the following welcoming lines from this ode to the port city:

Batten Nagasaki yume no machi 

Mimase yokatokko yorimasse

Batten Nagasaki yume no machi yume no machi 

"Batten" roughly translates to something like "although" or "but" in the Kyushu dialect, and this last bit of the last stanza proudly claims something like, "Nagasaki, city of dreams! Come on over, it's fabulous!" Couldn't have put it better myself. For that matter, it is indeed also an "uta no machi" (city of music), considering I was able to make a whole list out of just some kayo that are Nagasaki-themed.  

If you do have the opportunity to visit Kyushu, perhaps give Nagasaki a visit. It's great if you're a foodie and/or a history and culture buff. If I have the opportunity, I would love to go back. There's just so much more of the city and prefecture to see. Next stop, Sasebo, Saikai, and the "Kaeri Bune" (かえり船) music plaque.

On a final note, since Mae-Kiyo is a Nagasaki native (Sasebo city), he serves as a mascot/spokesman for the local police force's fight against fraud and other related crimes. Ever since I spotted my first Mae-Kiyo anti-crime poster, I took it upon myself to do a "Mae-Kiyo Sagashi" (Spot the Mae-Kiyo) and try to find at least one picture of the pillar man a day. I was more or less successful, and it culminated in the ultimate piece: Mae-Kiyo on the cover of the "Karaoke Fan" magazine. I'd waited an eternity for him to be on any magazine cover, and it just so happened that his long-awaited cover appearance coincided with my trip to Nagasaki :). 

Minoru Obata & Ryoko Fujiwara -- Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta (勘太郎月夜唄)

Last week I was watching Monday's installment of this show called "Shunkan Gotouchi!" (旬感☆ゴトーチ！) on NHK. To put it very bluntly, this travelogue is a 25 minute promo for towns in Japan and offers 3 things one can do there. It may sound like I'm slamming the show, but it's really useful when you're keen on learning about the new places in the country. Anyway, the place of interest that Monday was, wouldn't you know it, Sugamo's Jizodori!

(Sorry but the original NHK video has been taken down.)

Besides the usual red underwear, Showa era vibe, temple in the middle of the street and an attempt at luring young people there via strawberry shaved ice (an alleged 30 strawberries were harmed in the making), the natsumelo karaoke joint I frequent was even introduced, albeit for about half a minute. It was great to see it on TV, but what made my jaw drop was when the show featured the locals. They were glossing over oldies striking poses and waving at the camera when a familiar face popped up. It went by really quickly, but I was sure one of the little old ladies bundled up in winter wear was none other than Grandma K, whom I had the pleasure of knowing last year! I was very glad (and relieved) that she's still going strong. This appearance of Grandma K brought back fond memories, as well as my resolve to master sing her favourite song, Minoru Obata's (小畑実) "Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta", when I revisit Old People Harajuku.

I was no stranger to this matatabi hit of Obata's for I had listened to a fraction of it ad nauseum when I found this ryukoka medley with Yoshio Tabata's (田端義夫) "Otone Tsukiyo" (大利根月夜) and Dick Mine's (ディック・ミネ) "Tabi Sugata San'nin Otoko" (旅姿三人男). However, it was only when meeting Grandma K a few years after did I actually tune in to the full version of the song. Now it is stuck to my brain with a ton of industrial strength super glue like the other two.

"Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta" revolves around the titular ronin from Ina, Nagano. From what I gather from this blog article I found online (it's in Japanese), Kantaro of Ina was an actual figure in history. I didn't know about this till I looked him up, but that didn't stop me from loving this musical ode to the warrior. Along with the happy-go-lucky Obata with that constant ear-to-ear grin is the equally as happy-go-lucky, easy-going score. I can just imagine Kantaro leisurely strolling through the susuki by one of the many rivers in Ina, living a life of chivalry and freedom. The Kantaro craze doesn't just end at Obata's song though; there seemed to be multiple movies about his adventures, like this one called "Inabushi Jingi" (伊那節仁義) from 1943 with "Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta" as its theme song. There's also a commemorative plaque and a Kantaro festival being celebrated Ina city.

"Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta" was created by the renowned lyricist Takao Saeki (佐伯孝夫) and composer Yasuo Shimizu (清水保雄) in 1943. And actually, this song was a duet between Obata and Ryoko Fujiwara (藤原亮子) - this pairing collaborated on a few other occasions. However, in the later years "Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta" became only associated with Obata, as you can see in many live performances. It seems like the duet can only be heard in original recordings of the song, like the one in the video above.

The Jizodori temple, Kogan-ji.
Also home to the giant Sugamon butt, apparently.
Touch it and ye shall receive luck one's love life - I think.

P.S. Y'know, I kind of wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew with "Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta". Sure, it's a fun little tune, and I've been honing my vocal ability with professional help over the past six months, but, by golly, the vocal gymnastic work on this one is absolutely brutal! Ah, well. I'm pretty sure Grandma K's not going to mind some screw-ups here and there.

Minoru Obata/Naomi Chiaki -- Hoshikage no Komichi （星影の小径）

One of us will probably devote an article on the new NHK kayo/J-Pop show "Utakon"（うたコン）sometime in the near future. I've just seen the second episode of the show which replaced the long-running "Kayo Concert"（歌謡コンサート）this month, and the new kid on the block has definitely been shifting things to include some more of the J-Pop. I've got no problems with the new format per se although a couple of slip-ups did pop up in last night's sophomore outing such as Hiroshi Miyama（三山ひろし）missing out on one line in his first song and Toko Furuuchi（古内東子）giving a surprisingly subpar performance of her arguably most famous song "Dare Yori Suki Nanoni"（誰より好きなのに）. I continued to be surprised about who showed up and Toko, who I had never seen appear on a TV show, was one of the biggies but then was given another (unfortunate) surprise when she sounded off-tune during her performance. Generally speaking, I think "Utakon" is still going through some growing pains but I'm hopeful that things will become a well-oiled machine bringing the generations together every Tuesday.

One of the highlights from last night's show was "Hoshikage no Komichi" which translates into the romantic Starlight Lane. I remember it primarily for the words of "I love you, I love you..." which I had originally thought was just part of an elaborate commercial jingle for one of those Kirin drinks. But when I heard Risa Junna（純名里沙）perform it on the NHK stage, those famous words juggled those old memory engrams and it was then that I found out about how long ago "Hoshikage no Komichi" had been created.

Written by Ryo Yano（矢野亮）and composed by Ichiro Tone（利根一郎）for release in April 1950, the original version has that "Wah, wah, wah" ballad sound which I've associated with the sweet music sung by crooners back in the early half of the 20th century. In fact, according to the J-Wiki article on the song, composer Tone molded "Hoshikage no Komichi" to have Minoru Obata's（小畑実）distinct voice reflect more of a Bing Crosby delivery, although Der Bingle had that deeper baritone. And what I also found out was that during an age when the usage of English lyrics was rare in a kayo kyoku, Obata's crooning of "I love you" became quite the talk of the town after the single's release. The talk of the town translated into sales of 200,000 copies...a huge hit no matter the decade.

(karaoke version)

Over 40 years later in December 1992, Naomi Chiaki（ちあきなおみ）very briefly came out of her retirement from the music industry to record her version of "Hoshikage no Komichi". And speaking of Minoru Obata, Chiaki is another balladeer with a unique set of vocal cords. Those dulcet tones of hers approaching the more smooth jazz/Latin arrangement make for a nice little urban lullaby. However, Yano's lyrics deal about that cool nighttime stroll down a lane for a couple very much in love.

(Sorry but the video has been taken down)

"Hoshikage no Komichi" has become a kayo standard considering the number of other singers who have covered it such as UA (below) and Frank Nagai（フランク永井）. The above is Midori Karashima's（辛島美登里）version which was recorded onto her 2001 album "Eternal-One". At the same time, the song has become a favourite in advertisements. Not only has it been used for those Kirin products, but it was once used in 1985 to hawk instant coffee and in 1992 for Audi.

Minoru Obata -- Nagasaki no Zabon Uri (長崎のザボン売り)

That skit by The Drifters (ザ・ドリフターズ) in the clip above was one of the first I've watched from the comedy group, and it's also one of my favourites. This sketch has the 5 fellas doing a parody of what normally goes on during NHK's "Nodojiman", and despite some purposely made inaccuracies for laughs and how ridiculously idiotic it got, it was a great introduction to the singing competition for yours truly... although it did made me anticipate the ringing of the bells immediately after the contestants opened their mouths when I actually tuned in to the real deal on TV for the first time last year.

Anyway, since the skit featured "Nodojiman" in post-war Japan, our four contestants, played by Boo Takagi (高木ブー ), Ken Shimura (志村けん), Koji Nakamoto (仲本工事), and Cha Kato (加藤茶) respectively, all "sang" some really, really, old kayokyoku, or should I say, ryukoka. And out of all the 1/10ths of a song I've heard, I took a liking to the one Takagi's character had attempted to sing, "Nagasaki no Zabon Uri" as it had a rather cheerful start and I easily understood those few words he belted out, that being, "Kane ga naru naru" (the bells are ringing), right before his time in the limelight came to an abrupt halt when our pretentious and faux courteous MC and bell-ringer, played by Chosuke Ikariya (いかりや長介), appropriately struck the bell once... ...Now you know why I had the impression that the contestants would only survive about 5 seconds on stage.

Now, on to "Nagasaki no Zabon Uri". It did not occur to me to look for information regarding this song, I suppose it's because I was just satisfied hearing that one line or less from that Drifter's skit. In fact, it was only just this Wednesday when I re-watched the video for the nth time that the curiosity of finding out the original singer of "Nagasaki no Zabon Uri" got to me. I found it rather quickly after copying and pasting the Japanese characters for "Nagasaki" and "no" in the YouTube search bar, and I immediately recognized the name of the original singer as I skimmed through the results. He was Minoru Obata (小畑実). I got to know this native of North Korea via a medley of ryukoka that featured Batayan and Dick Mine - the number of times I hit repeat on that video is astronomical - and he seemed like a rather jolly fellow with his face beaming and all as he warbled in a very nasally voice.

Obata had that same merry manner as he sung "Nagasaki no Zabon Uri", an upbeat and jaunty tune about selling pomelo fruits (that's what a "Zabon" is) at the Nagasaki harbor. The music, composed by Obata's mentor, Yoshi Eguchi (江口夜詩), just makes you envision a bustling market scene with people moving in all directions with various goods, including pomelos, on a breezy, clear day. No sadness here! Not even in the lyrics that were written by Miyuki Ishimoto (石本美由起). Well, "Nagasaki no Zabon Uri" is a post-war song (released in 1948) after all, so I guess its meant to lift the dampened spirits of the folks.

Here's some background information on Obata. Born in North Korea as Gang Yeong Cheol (강영철) in 1923, he decided to move to Japan, together with tenor singer Genjiro Nagata (永田絃次郎) when he was sixteen, where he enrolled into the Japan Music School (日本音楽学校). He became one of Eguchi's students after graduating in 1941, and debuted the same year in February with "成吉思汗" (translates to Genghis Khan). He had participated in the Kohaku 3 times, first in 1953, then 1954, and finally in 1957.

kingrecords.co.jp

If you're wondering how a pomelo looks like, it's in the picture below. I see them here (Singapore) occasionally at some super marts, but they spike in popularity during the Mid-Autumn festival as they are eaten with the moon cakes. The clear, pulpy flesh is bittersweet, some times more bitter than sweet, and I don't really fancy it, though I don't mind them in this dessert (originating from Hong Kong) called "Mango Pomelo Sago"... Actually I may find myself picking the pomelo out of the mango puree and grimacing whenever I bite into a bitter pulp...

Source:Wikipedia