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.
Showing posts with label Miyuki Ishimoto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miyuki Ishimoto. Show all posts
Well, this is something that will make Torontonians groan once more...and just in time for the weekly Hump Day, too. I think I mentioned yesterday or the day before that folks here are about ready to flee winter and embrace spring. I'm also willing to give up on the snow but knowing my Toronto, I figure that we're still due for at least one more blizzard. And one is indeed coming tomorrow with the snow fortified with some ice pellets, to boot.
I thought it would be apropos then that I put up this article surrounding enka singer Ayako Fuji's（藤あや子） 11th single from February 1998, "Yuki Shin Shin". As for the translation of the title, it could be "Silent Snow" or "Frigid Snow" depending on the definitions I found on Jisho.org. The lyrics by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）tend to support the latter meaning as Fuji sings about the snow relentlessly falling down and blowing all about so the poor person out there is getting pelted with needles of frozen water. Cryo-self-flagellation, so to speak.
Of course, with winter in Japanese music often being depicted as the nadir of romance, Ishimoto's lyrics are also talking about the protagonist going through absolute hell as he/she is on the verge of losing that special someone. Satoshi Hinokibara（桧原さとし）was responsible for the dramatic melody. "Yuki Shin Shin" managed to hit No. 36 on Oricon, and Fuji sang it twice on the Kohaku Utagassen in 1998 and 2006.
Welcome to the final Monday of August 2025. Although it took me a while to catch up, I've loved the zany Mel Brooks' movies of the 1970s including "Young Frankenstein", and it's poignant to realize that just about all of the main cast have left this mortal coil. There was that one scene where the Monster and Elizabeth had one heck of a romantic night but then the former had to suddenly leave the latter which had poor Liz chastising the Monster as one of those wham-bam-thank-you-ma-am boors who prefers to love 'em and leave 'em.
Harumi Miyako's（都はるみ）June 1965 8th single "Bakaccho Defune" (You Dumb Departing Ships...although I prefer the translation of Darn You, Love 'Em Leave 'Em Sailors) reminds me of that "Young Frankenstein" scene. I heard it last night on NHK's "Shin BS Nihon no Uta" (and yep, it looks like the regular programs are returning from summer hiatus this week) and was delighted that it was a song that I've heard from my childhood but just forgot through the breezy windmills of my mind.
Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed/arranged by Shosuke Ichikawa（市川昭介）, Miyako herself sings in the lyrics that this is a madorosu kayo kyoku or a sailor-based kayo, one of the many sub-genres that would finally be all officially melded into enka, the traditional genre that finally got official standing in the Japanese lexicon in the early 1970s. I gotta ask Noelle whether that Hawaiian twang in Ichikawa's supremely cheerful arrangement was part and parcel of the madorosu kayo kyoku experience. But in any case, the enka legend also growls about how all those sailors quickly come (no pun intended😁) for the romance but then take off just as quickly for the seas, leaving the women bereft of companionship once more. When Miyako growls the title out, I feel that's similar to Elizabeth barking out in frustration, "Oh, you men are all alike!".
During most episodes of the NHK morning information show "Asaichi"（あさイチ）, one of the final segments is the cooking one where some chef comes in to whip up something delicious for the hosts and guests. Yesterday was a little different though because this time around, someone came in to introduce the Finnish game of Mölkky. It was apparently introduced in 1996 and has become quite popular in various parts of the world including Japan, and it appears like a combination of lawn bowling and billiards. From what I've seen of the guys on "Asaichi" plying their hands to the game, it looks like an activity that even I could do without making too much of a fool out of myself. The above video is a Japanese explanation while the one below is in English.
Well, yesterday, when I was watching the other NHK program of "Uta Con"（うたコン）and their tribute to the Osaka Expo, Osaka kayoand even the year of 1970 in terms of music, the hosts presented some of the music that debuted in that year. And indeed, there was one song that got onto that year's Kohaku Utagassen special as sung by the Queen of Kayo Kyoku herself, Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）.
And guess what? It also has something to do with a game. Misora released her July 1970 single"Jinsei Shogi"(Shogi of Life) as a most cordial parable of life as a game of shogi with each move representing an action influencing something good or bad in life. Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by Tetsuya Kato（かとう哲也）, there seems to be a pleasantly rustic feeling to the song as if this grand game was being played out in the countryside while Misora takes a somewhat sage and perhaps even sneaky approach on the vocals as if she were Yoda training Luke Skywalker. Compare this kayo with another earlier and more famous Misora single, "Yawara"（柔）, which likens life to a round of judo.
"Jinsei Shogi" wasn't a huge hit for Misora, only reaching No. 70 on Oricon and selling around 19,000 records.
The weathercasters have been stating that the last few days of snow have exceeded the total amount of the white stuff that we got for all of winter last year. I can believe it. I sludged through increasing centimetres of snow in my heavy boots to get some grocery shopping done this morning and my feet still hurt like crazy. I don't usually drink alcohol but I can certainly use a drink right now.
Maybe enka crooner Hiroshi Itsuki（五木ひろし）has got the right idea. In August 2010, he had a second release of his 115th single"Oshiroibana"（おしろい花...The White Flower）, and on it, he had an additional coupling song titled "Yukimizake" (Drinking While Viewing the Snow). As the Bing image at the top that I made shows, it can be considered to be one of those melancholy enka about drinking and watching the snow softly falling down to enter a stupor to forget about those romantic issues. What helps is Itsuki's slightly gravelly and reassuring tones as the protagonist internally grapples about an ardent love that hasn't been consummated quite yet for some reason. Chiaki Oka（岡千秋）came up with the tender melody while Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）was the lyricist.
Meanwhile, I'll just keep enjoying my time inside my abode for the rest of today while figuring out how the heck I'm going to be navigating through the white mountains in my neighbourhood tomorrow.
I heard this one on a recent episode of "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新・BS日本のうた...Songs of Japanese Spirit） and found out that it had originally been sung by Ichiro Kanbe（神戸一郎）. He first came to KKP's attention back in October 2022 when I wrote about his "Nagoya Blues"（名古屋ブルース）which was released in 1971.
This time around, that song that I heard on the NHK kayo kyoku show is "Juu-dai no Koi Sayonara"(Farewell, My Teen Love) which happens to Kanbe's debut single from December 1957. He was still a teen when he released his first song (and yup, he cut quite the dashing figure on that cover) and yet, his vocals showed off a fairly more mature-than-expected quality which probably made him quite the crooner from the get-go. Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, compared to the somewhat despair-sounding "Nagoya Blues", there is a bit more bittersweet yet hopeful vibe from "Juu-dai no Koi Sayonara" in a que sera sera fashion. I'm a bit torn on whether this would be now considered an enka ballad or a straight kayo kyoku, though, especially since enka wouldn't enter officially enter the Japanese lexicon until the early 1970s.
Happy Monday! As I've told viewers in a number of other articles over the past dozen years, the nearest station to my home in Ichikawa City, Chiba Prefecture was Minami-Gyotoku Station（南行徳駅）on the Tozai Line. Although Toronto has been my home once again for well over a decade now since returning from Japan, I've always retained a soft spot for my old neighbourhood. Whenever I returned from Toronto after the biannual Christmas vacation there, there would be Nangyo (the abbreviated nickname for Minami-Gyotoku) as the sun was setting; my flights back to Narita Airport always ended up arriving in the afternoon. It was my station, my neighbourhood, my home. I could buy a bento at the konbini and crash on my sofa in my 2K.
Still, I think my feelings on returning to my apartment in Ichikawa probably pale to those of Tokyoites heading back to their hometowns after several years of working hard in the megalopolis to help get Japan back onto its feet. Koichi Aoki's（青木光一）"Furusato no Eki"(Hometown Station) from 1956 is a classic bokyo kayo（望郷歌謡...song of longing for home） with those old-fashioned strings and the down-home rhythms paired with the singer's nasal vocals. Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由紀）and composed by Hideo Hirakawa（平川英夫）, "Furusato no Eki" seems to be the ideal song to welcome back the mature son and daughter at the station with warm hugs and promises of food, drink and warmth.
I missed out on commemorating the traditionally observed Tanabata（七夕）holiday back on July 7th, but I'm making amends here regarding the celebration of the star-crossed lovers.
Tanabata is also one of the earliest festivals of the summer festival season in Japan and you can get more of a feeling of what it's all about by watching the above video by Japanagos. One of the traditions is to write a wish down onto a coloured strip of paper known as tanzaku（短冊）and tie it to a bamboo tree. If I'd had access to tanzaku, I would have written that I wished to visit Japan once more....or win the local Lotto Max.
I did have my days of tanzaku-writing when I was living in Japan but I never saw Tanabata as being a particularly solemn affair. In fact, I think it's quite the lively one with lots of summer colours being bandied about. Double in fact, enka legend Harumi Miyako（都はるみ）released a single in June 1970 titled "Tanabata Odori" (Tanabata Dance); I found the release date at Discogs rather than at J-Wiki where for some odd reason, the single has been omitted from her long discography.
Regardless, "Tanabata Odori", written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by Shosuke Ichikawa（市川昭介）, is an enka tune done up as a particularly festive minyo number. Miyako is exhorting everyone to get off their duffs and dance; Tanabata isn't something to be merely seen or heard but to be experienced. I would say that any summer festival in Japan is something to be experienced with all of the gaiety generated from not only dancers and other active participants but also the attendees in their seasonal yukata and the yatai selling everything from yakisoba to candy apples. Just be aware of the heat and humidity, though.
If you like, you can take a look at this instructional video on how to perform a dance to Miyako's "Tanabata Odori" provided the Hiratsuka City Tourist Association.
Fune ga tsuku hi ni sakaseta hana wo (A flower allowed to blossom on the day the ship docked)
Fune ga deru yoru chirasu kaze (A scattering wind on the night the ship leaves)
If I had 100 yen for every time these couple of lines ran through my head between September and December 2022, I'd probably be able to purchase at least 10 bromides. At least. I listened to their source so much that I ended up going from simply appreciating its presence to actually liking it, making it the first song I used for academic purposes to gain this accolade... That felt weird to say.
For posterity.
To give some context, my undergraduate thesis featured enka (of course, it did), and in it, I studied (or, at least, I attempted to study) how social inequality and class differences could’ve been perpetuated through the lyrics of popular enka songs from the Showa era. I set myself up to pick and study tunes (22 in total) that revolved around certain themes including poverty, blue-collar jobs, and an itinerant lifestyle. Since I stated “popular enka songs”, it’d be a crime if I left out the biggest star of that period and the Queen of Kayokyoku: Hibari Misora (美空ひばり). Sifting through her dozens of smash hits and skimming through their lyrics, I finally found the one that fit my criteria: “Minato Machi Jusan Banchi”. It’s an enka featuring the sailor life, it was one of her hits, I actually knew it - perfect. Honestly, that search gave me a bigger headache than I was expecting.
First released on 10th March 1957 and posthumously on 1st July 1991, “Minato Machi Jusan Banchi” was written by one of the songwriting power duos of the early Showa era, Miyuki Ishimoto (石本美由起) and Gento Uehara (上原げんと) - my impression is that a hatoba (wharf) or madorosu (sailor) tune by them likely turned out to be a banger. According to the J-Wiki, the Japan Record Association's magazine "THE RECORD", it was ranked as Colombia Record's (the company Misora belonged to) No.1 best-seller of the year in a rankings chart that featured the year's best-selling records per record company.
The original version. That plucky banjo really screams madorosu kayo.
On top of that, this well-loved sailor number became tangible to fans and train commuters when a whole entire train station was dedicated to it. As this Sponichi article from 2013 stated, the renewal of the Keikyu Daishi Line's almost century-old Minatocho station had been centred around “Minato Machi Jusan Banchi”. Now aptly nicknamed the "Hibari Eki" (Hibari station), it has the full works: At the South entrance sits its music plaque (her 8th song plaque nationwide) with a 148cm life-size model of the spunky singer and her to-scale handprint where you can also play one chorus's worth of the song to your heart's content; the station's jingle is the song; one of the platforms has its musical score with a cute illustration of a harbour view. It's every fan's dream. I'm more than inclined to agree with Hibari's son, Kazuya Kato (加藤和也), in saying that his mother would be amazed to see that this much thought had been put into representing a song she seemed to have personally enjoyed in the area so significant to her (she's a Kanagawa native).
The creation of "Minato Machi Jusan Banchi" was an interesting one too. For starters, it features the earlier mentioned industrial port town of Minatocho. This town was also where the Japan branch and record-making factory of Colombia Records were first established in 1910, and it was intended for its location on block 9 (kyubanchi) to be the song's setting. Ishimoto, however, decided to go with block 13 (jusan banchi) as it rolled off the tongue better. As a quintessential go-touchi song would, this jaunty romp into the Kawasaki-Yokohama area also included subtle nods to places like Yamashita Park and Bashamichi.
The jazzy twist in this recording (from the 70s?) makes it my favourite version.
Earlier this year, I decided to do a song plaque pilgrimage to the Minatocho station since, as talked about at the start, Hibari's cheery madorosu tune was quite a significant part of the biggest project I'd done thus far. Plus, it was comparatively nearer to my home base than others, so it'd only be natural to pay it a visit. While Hibari had been more of a figure I respected than truly loved, this and a later experience at her house-turned-museum in Tokyo's Meguro did cause quite a bit of a shift in that dynamic. It's hard to describe, but seeing her beaming right at me after the approximately 1.5-hour journey to Kawasaki and hearing "Minato Machi Jusan Banchi" right there and then, I felt accomplished (?)
(Sorry but the video has been taken down.)
"Minato Machi Jusan Banchi" had been covered by countless singers over the decades, but I thought it'd be nice to round off the article with a lovely collaboration between Hibari and Sabu-chan. Sabu-chan's rustic delivery really added that grassroots flavour to the tune.
Earlier today, I did my weekly ROY article featuring Randy Newman's"I Love L.A." and one kayo that hit No. 3 on Oricon in the same month that Newman's album "Trouble in Paradise" was released was enka singer Eisaku Ohkawa's（大川栄策）big hit "Sazanka no Yado"（さざんかの宿）. In fact, I'd say that "Sazanka no Yado" is the song that Ohkawa is probably known for the most.
It has been a very long time since I put up an article featuring one of Ohkawa's songs (maybe 5 years) so after doing the ROY article, I figured that Ohkawa was due for some more attention. And so I opted to go with one of his very early singles, "Yanagawa no Hito" (Man of Yanagawa). This was his 3rd single from April 1970, and it was written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by the late Masao Koga（古賀政男）, Ohkawa's mentor.
What caught my ears was Koga's enka melody which has an arrangement by Mitsuru Kotani（小谷充）that seems as if it was given a slight contemporary lift from what I've heard of the instrumentation and subtle key shifts. Ishimoto's lyrics first struck me as a story surrounding what I think is one of the quintessential traditional scenes in Japan, whether it be through karaoke videos or a historical drama: the slow cruise down a river lined by willow trees, and indeed, yanagawa translates into English as willow river.
However, after going through the lyrics, I've realized that "Yanagawa no Hito" is actually a go-tochi（ご当地）enka or traditional song about a specific region in Japan. In this particular case, Ohkawa is singing about the city of Yanagawa in southern Fukuoka Prefecture which is known for its canals. The key word in the lyrics which corrected my path about what the song was all about was Gonshan（ゴンシャン）, written in katakana. Putting it through the Yahoo Japan search engine pulled up multiple hits about a certain coffee shop known as Gonshan in Yanagawa. It's all quite poignant since the protagonist in "Yanagawa no Hito" is planning on leaving the city for a bigger place...perhaps Tokyo. The video below incidentally is of Yanagawa and it was created by Kevin Caption.
As I mentioned in the article for "Sazanka no Yado", Ohkawa had to go through many years without a hit before that big song from 1982 finally reached him. However, just judging from "Yanagawa no Hito" alone, I think perhaps a reappraisal of those perhaps forgotten tunes of his throughout the 1970s might be considered.
I was watching a recent episode of "Uta Kon"（うたコン）and a poignant enka was performed about a couple of old buddies meeting for the first time in a few years and having a long-awaited drink at a watering hole. Try to imagine back in the early postwar period when Japan was trying to get back onto its feet again with people just trying to regain some of that order from the chaos. I could envision that some friendships may have been detached for several years only for them to be rejoined, perhaps even stronger than ever.
Perhaps that was the point with "Aitakattaze" (Really Wanted To See You) as sung by Haruo Oka（岡晴夫）. According to J-Wiki, this was most likely the final single that was released by the crooner back in July 1955 because illness crept back into his life again (he would pass away in May 1970 at the age of 54). The commentary in that article indicated that this song proved to be another hit for him.
According to the video here, the footage shown of Oka performing "Aitakattaze" was actually from 1970 so the uploader mentions that this may have been the final time of him appearing in front of a camera. Considering the melancholy music by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）and the tenderhearted lyrics by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）, Oka's performance above takes on an even more enhanced poignancy.
A couple of days ago, I was watching enka singer Hiroshi Itsuki's（五木ひろし）NHK music-variety show (I really ought to talk about that program sometime soon) which seems to get plugged into a time slot on TV Japan whenever the usual program has been pre-empted for whatever reason. The theme for the episode was Tokyo-based kayo, something that has also been done on "Uta Kon"（うたコン）in the past.
However, one of the songs that was featured was an old kayo that I had never heard before. It was titled "Tokyo no Sora, Aoi no Sora" (Tokyo Sky, Blue Sky) and the original singer was Haruo Oka（岡晴夫）, the same fellow who had sung the jaunty "Akogare no Hawaii Koro"（憧れのハワイ航路）in 1948. It's a song that I've heard myself over the decades but have only gotten to know and pay attention to in the last number of years.
"Tokyo no Sora, Aoi no Sora" was released in March 1949, and like the more famous "Akogare no Hawaii Koro", it's got plenty of jump. In fact, I would say that Yoshi Eguchi's（江口夜詩）music is quite the whirling dervish of kayo, probably to match Miyuki Ishimoto's（石本美由起）lyrics of a young couple painting the town red on what must have been one heck of a weekend date. I'm sure that Oka must have gotten quite the workout recording this in the booth. But it's got plenty of optimism; I don't know what the state of Tokyo was in 1949, some four years after the war had ended, but if it's anything like singer, lyricist and composer have described it, then perhaps the capital city was really turning a corner. Incidentally, both Eguchi and Ishimoto were also responsible for the creation of "Akogare no Hawaii Koro".
There's a clearer and crisper cover of the original song by Hachiro Kasuga（春日八郎）who recorded it in 1976 as a part of his album "Kasuga Hachiro Oka Haruo wo Utau"（春日八郎 岡晴夫を歌う...Hachiro Kasuga Sings Haruo Oka）. Listening to both versions, I got that feeling of Tokyo being that hive of industry and activity, and if I were to compare the tune to a Hollywood movie, I would think it was kinda like the first few minutes of "An American in Paris" with George Gershwin's magnificent score in the background.
Tonight's "Uta Con"（うたコン）reminded me that today is the birthday of the Queen of Kayo Kyoku, Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）. I think this may be the very first time that I have ever written a song on the blog about Misora that actually landed on her birthday. She would have been 81 years old today.
Well, let's go with a good one. I looked up her article on J-Wiki and found the song that she performed on her first NHK Kohaku Utagassen appearance in 1954 which was the 5th annual show. "Hibari no Madorosu-san"(Hibari's Sailor) was a song released in May of that year, and according to the J-Wiki article, this particular number itself is a special one in that it has been treated as the very first of the "madorosu"kayo(didn't know that there was such a sub-genre). Apparently, Misora would release some more of those sailor-themed tunes along with other singers.
Lyricist Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composer Gento Uehara（上原げんと）created "Hibari no Madorosu-san" as a fairly gentle but cheerful song about Misora admiring her favourite sailor on the ship. Considering that the singer was born in the port city of Yokohama, the song was a good fit for her.
According to Nippon Columbia, the recording company responsible for the song, as of 1998, "Hibari no Madorosu-san" sold around 900,000 records. Misora's final appearance on the Kohaku was in 1979 in a special guest capacity, and she performed that very song as the first in a medley. As for the expression madorosu, it originated from the Dutch or Flemish word matroos.
Another TV sign in Japan that the year is coming to an end along with NHK's Kohaku Utagassen and Fuji-TV's FNS Music Festival is NHK's "Wagakokoro no Osaka Melody"（わが心の大阪メロディー...Osaka Melodies of My Heart）. A relative baby sister when compared to the first two specials, the national broadcaster's tribute to all music Osakan started only from 2001 but it's been quite popular and certainly my family has made it a custom to see it whenever it broadcasts in December.
The beginning of this year's special which was broadcast here in North America during the same time slot for "Uta Kon"（うたコン）on Tuesday night had bubbly (I'm using Noelle's apt adjective here) Mitsuko Nakamura（中村美律子）and the stalwart Takashi Hosokawa（細川たかし）go into a friendly sing-off. Hosokawa performed the classic "Naniwa Bushi da yo, Jinsei wa"（浪花節だよ人生は）while Nakamura sang a song that I hadn't heard before, "Kawachi Otoko Bushi"(Melody of a Kawachi Man).
Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by Chiaki Oka（岡千秋）, "Kawachi Otoko Bushi" has that same festival jauntiness as "Naniwa Bushi da yo, Jinsei wa". According to the J-Wiki article on the song, the rhythm is based on Kawachi ondo（河内音頭）, the brand of Japanese traditional folk song that originated in what is now part of Osaka Prefecture. It was released back in June 1989 as the Osaka native's 3rd single, and the timing was great since festival season usually starts up from mid-summer.
And it has apparently been used for the bon odori performances that take place in the Kansai area. On the Oricon chart, "Kawachi Otoko Bushi" only made it up to No. 69 but it's more than compensated since Nakamura has sung it a total of 8 times in her 15 times on the Kohaku Utagassen which makes it the No. 3 song in terms of the most repeated performances of a particular song on that special. Only Sayuri Ishikawa's（石川さゆり）"Amagi Goe"（天城越え）and "Tsugaru Kaikyo Fuyu Geshiki"（津軽海峡・冬景色）have had more appearances at 10 and 9 times respectively.
"Kawachi Otoko Bushi" was a hit right from the start in the Kansai area but it took 3 more years before it got its national attention. That late-coming fame was punctuated by Nakamura's debut appearance on the Kohaku in 1992, singing this very song.
Nakamura hasn't appeared on the Kohaku since 2010 after singing her trademark song three straight times up to that year, so I gather that perhaps she and her listeners probably wanted to take a break. However, it would be pretty nice for her to get onto the NHK stage again and bring back this crowdpleaser.
Tonight's "Uta Con"（うたコン）had been advertised for its tribute to kayo legend Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）who would have been 80 years old yesterday. So it was somewhat disappointing that the so-called tribute was limited to a dramatic vignette starring some well-respected actors and just a couple of Hibari hits performed by the guests without even any full video performances by the lady herself before it became a regular show. In fact, I may go on a mild rant and say that my annoyance was further enhanced on seeing the now-usual clumsy transitions by NHK and "concierge" Shosuke Tanihara（谷原章介）, and some duets which didn't really come off too well.
I have to say though that 12-year-old actress/singer Rio Suzuki（鈴木梨央）gave a charming performance of "Kanashiki Kuchibue"（悲しき口笛）in full tuxedo just like Misora did when she was the same age.
This particular song didn't get onto the broadcast (not too many did), but I found this to be a nice jaunty tune by Misora from March 1957 when she was just a couple of months shy from turning 20. "Minato-machi Juu-san Banchi" (13 Minato-machi) was the singer's own tribute to life along the coast represented by her hometown of Yokohama and neighbouring Kawasaki.
And according to J-Wiki, that title was meant to represent the location of the headquarters and factory of Misora's record company at the time, Nippon Columbia, in Kawasaki although 13 Minato-machi didn't actually exist; Nippon Columbia was actually at 9 Minato-machi.
Whatever the address, "Minato-machi Juu-san Banchi" has that rather carefree feeling of life in a postwar Japan (although the nation was still rebuilding) that was pushing back the days of war and deprivation. The song was written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由起）and composed by Gento Uehara（上原げんと）, and although the title was referring to Nippon Columbia, Misora apparently made some shoutouts in the lyrics to certain places in Yokohama such as Yamashita Park and some of the watering holes in the district of Bashamichi.
Apparently the song was also performed in one of her movies "Aoi Umabara"（青い海原...Blue Ocean）from 1957. The interesting thing is that her co-star was a very young and far less rugged-looking Ken Takakura（高倉健）! As for how the song itself did, Oricon was still a decade away from ranking records but according to a music journal at the time "The Record", "Minato-machi Juu-san Banchi" became the No. 1 record of the year on the Columbia charts.
Returning to my earlier little snit, I realize that there are probably folks out there who feel that perhaps Misora has been treated too much like a goddess on these kayo shows, but I think if anyone is deserving of the status, it would be her. Plus, I think NHK may be a little guilty of false advertising, despite the introduction of that little drama at the beginning.
Whaddaya know, the Itsuki picture for September
matches the song for today.
For the past three and a half months I had been busy with my school's internship - hence fewer write-ups by me - the last leg of my tertiary education - I've still got about a month left. It's got some highs and lows, but the Thursday to Sunday a couple weeks ago was probably the most harrowing experience thus far. Volunteering with a friend to help out at our workplace's (AVA... Agri-Food & Veterinary Authority) booth at an ornamental fish competition seemed exciting enough. However, with this poorly organised event lacking a number of important necessities like two categories worth of competing fish, and as such, the people, the both of us were wonderfully underwhelmed with having to tout free fans to a sparse crowd and literally counting the number of people who simply took a glance at our booth - 19 on Thursday but things picked up somewhat on Saturday. But even doing nothing is tiring if you have to do it for 6-8 hours. Kudos to this friend who stayed throughout the entire duration.
The absolute worst, however, has got to be the terrible, nonstop Christmas music blasting away. By Sunday we must've fallen too far into the rabbit hole as we imagined an idiotic "mix tape" that combines the instrumental version of "Silent Night", this hilariously awful song that has the singer going "Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" at the chorus, and last but not least the whine of the hedge saw we heard when coming back from lunch. Imagine how that train wreck of a "mix tape" turned out to be. This horrific nightmare before Christmas made me miss enka a whole lot, and believe me I've been trying to use that to drown out the madness.
A good remedy would be "Nagaragawa Enka". It's a destination song featuring Gifu's Nagara river, renowned enka songwriters Chiaki Oka and Miyuki Ishimoto (岡千秋.石本美由起) put it together, and sung by Hiroshi Itsuki (五木ひろし), the genre's top veteran (in this current decade at least) in a kimono. Can't ask for anything more enka than that.
Rokyoku Itsuki
"Nagaragawa Enka" has got a traditional-sounding score as composed by Oka. What I find the main attraction of this melody is the haunting notes from the koto, which feels like the dark, rolling waves over the river at night, and is reminiscent of Takeo Fujishima's classic, "Otsuki-san Konbanwa" (お月さん今晩は). It's actually quite therapeutic, especially when combined with Itsuki's mellow delivery. Ishimoto's lyrics, which is set during the Ukai period in Gifu city, tells of whom I'm going to assume is a woman being reminded of a one night stand while watching the age old tradition of cormorant fishing along the river. The affair seemed to be a passionate one and the parting not on mutual terms as she seems rather sour about its end. Such is the sad fate of at least 90% of the enka characters.
"Nagaragawa Enka", from 21st April 1984 and later, 25th August, is Itsuki's biggest hit when it comes to the destination song department. It sold over a massive 10 million copies - a feat that only 6 other acts, including Momoe Yamaguchi (山口百恵) and Shinichi Mori (森進一), have accomplished - and won the singer First Prize at the 26th Japan Record Awards, the 15th Japanese Music Awards, and at the 13th FNS Music Festival. That is one decorated song. "Nagaragawa Enka" did well on the Oricon charts, coming in at 10th place at its peak before dropping to 14th by the end of 1984. It still managed to maintain its popularity in 1985 as it came in 61st for that year.
He looks good in grey suits.
With stuff like "Nagaragawa Enka" and "Jinanbo Garasu" (次男坊鴉... perhaps an article for another time), the madness of the exhibition's terrible music has mostly been exterminated. But things like the "Idiot Mix Tape" and memories from this experience will be in my mind for a long time, I reckon. What a way to end the already crazy year. Makes me wonder what next year will be like. Not as bumpy or bi-polar as this year, please. Anyways, hope you guys will have a good year ahead, and for surviving 2016... (the picture below)
Asakusa is quite the fine shitamachi neighbourhood. I had the pleasure of working there for 2 years when I was teaching at the local NOVA branch just across from Asakusa Station over a KFC and around the corner from a McDonalds (guess what I usually ate most of the time). And when I stayed at the Toyoko Inn in the area during my 2014 trip back to Tokyo, I was reminded how very convenient it is in terms of pretty much everything from food to shopping to transportation. Plus, it does have all those festivals including the Sumida River Fireworks Festival on the final Saturday of July.
This article will be talking about the 1959 enka song "Asakusa Shimai" (The Asakusa Sisters) as sung by Komadori Shimai（こまどり姉妹）, a twin sister act from Hokkaido featuring Eiko and Yoko Namiki（並木栄子・並木葉子）. Born in 1938, they grew up in poverty and early in their lives, they began their careers as street musicians. In 1951, their family moved down south to Tokyo where they lived in cheap accommodations in the San'ya area right next to Asakusa. And there they continued to stroll the entertainment districts as musicians with their shamisen.
Several years later in 1959, they were scouted after which the Namiki Sisters took on the stage name of the Komadori Shimai (Japanese Robin Sisters) and debuted with "Asakusa Shimai". Initially, the song was to have been another song known as "Shamisen Shimai"（三味線姉妹）but to illustrate the sisters' lives in the Asakusa area, "Asakusa Shimai" was chosen. "Shamisen Shimai" would become their 2nd single which came out the following month.
Written by Miyuki Ishimoto（石本美由紀）and composed by Minoru Endo（遠藤実）for release as their debut in October 1959, "Asakusa Shimai" is a somewhat sad tale of the two sisters toiling away in the neighbourhood as entertainers in the hopes that someday they will see their mother again. I wouldn't be surprised if quite a few tears were shed by folks in the audience whenever they performed that particular ballad.
The rags to riches story did come to the sisters fairly quickly after that. In 1961, Komadori Shimai received their first invitation to the Kohaku Utagassen after which they appeared 6 more times in a row up to 1967. In addition, they not only appeared quite a few times in movies, they also had their own TV show for a year on NTV from 1962 to 1963. Pretty heady stuff for the sisters, I gather, since they were still in their early 20s at the time. Of course, their singing career also flourished with most of their output being heard during the 1960s, although there was a small renaissance from the mid-1980s into the 1990s. Their latest song was released in March 2014, their first release in 18 years. The sisters even still pop up on shows such as "Uta Kon"（うたコン）from time to time.
Note about that video just above...it looks like Yoko on the right there may have changed her stage name back to her original name of Toshiko（敏子）.
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 characterhad 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 Kohaku3 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...
Just two days ago I managed to come across this rarity: A pack of 4 CD's filled with Enka and Kayokyoku from back in the day at 'That CD Shop'! As you can see I used rarity. That's because you can almost never find CD's of those genres being sold here in Singapore and also, being a pack of 4 would usually mean that it would cost a bomb, right? Nope, that thing only costed less than 20 bucks (SGD)! I guess no one wanted to buy it until I came along.
Anyway, those CD's had many classics from the 50's and 60's by singers like Hideo Murata (村田英雄) - its got 'Jinsei Gekijo' (人生劇場)! - and for the Mood Kayo side we've got Frank Nagai (フランク 永井) and Wada Hiroshi & Mahina Stars (和田弘とマヒナスターズ). But what was really interesting was that there were even songs from the 40's! And that was where I found the song that had been popping up in my mind occasionally since I had discovered it a couple of years ago while watching Chage & Aska discussing about old songs on a talk show.
That song was 'Akogare no Hawaii Koro' by Haruo Oka (岡晴夫). Its now the oldest song I'm quite fond of, being released in 1948! I'm sure that makes it one of those cheerful and uplifting post-war tunes talking about longing for the beautiful sunsets and coconut tree-lined paths of the exotic islands of Hawaii.
I had actually found it quite silly back then how Oka sang this song: Eyes open as wide as his mouth and seemingly staring into space while standing quite still in front of the microphone. Especially so as he began the distinguishable start with his equally as distinguishable nasally voice.
Same performance as the clip shown on the talk show C&A were on.
HAAAAAre ta sora soyogu kaze Minato defune no dora no ne tanoshi
And that would get stuck in my head from time to time to the point that it'd be annoying since I only clearly remembered those 2 lines above. It was written by Miyuki Ishimoto (石本美由起) and the jaunty, quintessentially 40's music was composed by Yoshi Eguchi (江口夜詩). From what I gather, it was quite popular since it was used in a movie by the same name in 1950 starring Oka himself and a 13 year old Hibari Misora (美空ひばり) and its sung quite often nowadays too by other singers, most probably when there is a post-war song special or something on that line.
Oka, born as Tatsuo Sasaki, debuted as a Kayokyoku/Ryukoka (流行歌) singer in 1939. Ryukoka was basically any kind of pop music and Enka branched out from that genre, but now it just refers to pop music from the 20's to the early 60's. He had never participated in the Kohaku since he insisted on live performances, which was quite a shame. Unfortunately he passed away in 1970 at only 54 years old.
