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 Tadashi Manjome. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tadashi Manjome. Show all posts
This has been called the oldest underground mall in Tokyo. Japan's capital is one of many cities in the country that has a plethora of underground malls so it's something to hear that the network of restaurants, bars and other shops below the traditional quarter of Asakusa is the oldest. And it's one place that I walked through many times during my two years working at the NOVA branch there in the 1990s.
Over the weekend, NHK showed one of its documentaries focusing on the Asakusa Underground, and I was surprised/not surprised that it hadn't changed one iota in the past thirty years. The subterranean community still looks very earthy, grungy and grimy. I still remember the combined smell of oil, soy sauce and most likely sweat whenever I walked through the place to get to the other side of the street without having to wait at the intersection for the signal to change to green.
Apparently, there have been two different kayo kyoku titled "Asakusa no Uta"(Asakusa Song): one from the prewar era and one after the war. The one I'm posting about here today is the 1947 version recorded by veteran Ichiro Fujiyama（藤山一郎）. Written by Hachiro Sato（ｻﾄｳ ﾊﾁﾛｰ）and composed by Tadashi Manjome（万城目正）, Fujiyama sings "Asakusa no Uta" in his characteristic jaunty style as he describes the hustle and bustle and the million stories that have been told in the venerable neighbourhood. I'm sure the Underground has a good chunk of those stories, and to be honest, I wouldn't mind a silver dish of that yakisoba made down there.
By the way, I did post on another Asakusa-themedkayo kyoku back in 2016 titled "Asakusa Shimai"（浅草姉妹）by the Komadori Shimai（こまどり姉妹）.
Hana mo arashi mo fumi koete (Pushing through, in good times and bad)
I have this core memory of watching this one ryukoka medley back when I was just starting to wrap my head around what the genre was. If I got 100 yen for the amount of times I re-watched that, I would probably be able to buy a Mr. Nakanoshikishi (autograph) priced at 55,000 yen. Because of that constant repetition, I still vividly remember what the four songs in the medley were almost a decade down the road. There was a jolly Minoru Obata (小畑実) singing "Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta" (勘太郎月夜唄) in his soft lilt, an elderly Dick Mine in a tux with a pair of shades belting out "Tabi Sugata Sannin Otoko" (旅姿三人男) in dramatic fashion, and the ever exuberant Batayan and his trusty guitar with "Otone Tsukiyo" (大利根月夜). These were instant favourites and would continue to be in the years to come. However, there was one song that was markedly different in style to the rest of these heroic-sounding matatabi mono. The man singing it also gave completely different vibes to the aforementioned gentlemen. He was awkward, standing ram-rod straight, and his slight frown behind those glasses gave him a look of mild annoyance; it's as though someone got that last tuna mayo onigiri before he could. This awkward gentleman was Noboru Kirishima (霧島昇) and the song he sang was "Tabi no Yokaze" (A Journey's Night Breeze).
This performance here is probably the exact one I saw from that medley, if not very similar. Because of that impression I had of him, I just saw him a stiff and grey natsumelo singers. I didn't take to "Tabi no Yokaze" either, it being in a minor key and having a comparatively sadder sound despite its jaunty rhythm. Just as aside, I actually prefer songs in the major key, like the earlier mentioned matatabi mono, which are generally more uplifting in sound. Stuff in the minor key like "Tabi no Yokaze" and many enka songs, on the other hand, usually take me some time to get used to. Having said that, the reason why I went from cold to lukewarm to it was because of the constant replays of that medley.
Years later, I would re-encounter "Tabi no Yokaze" and its recognizable accordion-filled intro via the Asakusa Bois, Tokyo Taishu Kayo Gakudan (東京大衆歌謡楽団). I quickly learned from their concert videos and live performances that this tune was not only a staple in their repertoire, but often sung as an introduction. Considering the song's theme of travel, it's rather characteristic of the band that often seemingly appears at random places out of thin air. Just like the medley from my teens, hearing "Tabi no Yokaze" from the Takashima brothers eventually made it go from lukewarm to a comfortable warm. Through that process, I'd find it on loop in my head and I'd be humming bits of it ever so often, especially that oh-so-familiar first line.
The Asakusa Bois were also the reason why Kiri-san became another early Showa kayo figure I warmed up to, alongside his wife Misao Matsubara (松原操), also known as Ms. Columbia.
The original
On the note of Matsubara, "Tabi no Yokaze" wasn't just a Kirishima song, it was originally a duet Kirishima recorded with her. It was created as such in 1938 by Yaso Saijo (西條八十) and Tadashi Manjome (万城目正) and served as the theme song for the romantic somewhat-tragedy "Aizen Katsura" (愛染かつら), which was based on Matsutaro Kawaguchi's (川口松太郎) serialized novella of the same name. It featured movie stars Ken Uehara (上原謙) and Kinuyo Tanaka (田中絹代). Basically, nurse-turned-musician Katsue (played by Tanaka) first encounters young doctor and heir to the hospital she worked in Kozo at a company organized party. Kozo, smitten by Katsue, introduces her to the Aizen Katsura (Katsura tree of love) at a temple; lovers who touch the tree together will find eternal happiness together, even if not immediately. The two touch the tree, professing their love for each other. Unfortunately, that's where the problems began and a whole wave of misunderstandings and will-they-won't-theys ensue, with Kozo having to battle family tradition and Katsue balancing her duties as a single mother and a nurse. Saijo's lyrics illustrate the feelings and struggles of both characters via Kiri-san and Ms. Columbia. And I believe that the "Tabi" (journey) part of "Tabi no Yokaze" comes from how our star-crossed lovers constantly travelled to different places yet always happened to barely miss meeting each other.
As the film was a massive sensation, "Tabi no Yokaze," arranged in multiple ways and played throughout the movie, became a smash hit, propelling Kirishima and Matsubara to musical stardom. Since the movie did so well, it spawned two sequels titled "Zoku Aizen Katsura" (続愛染かつら) in 1939 and "Aizen Katsura Kanketsu hen" (愛染かつら完結編) in 1940. Naturally, Kirishima and Matsubara were behind the theme songs as well, "Aizen Yakyoku" (愛染夜曲) and "Aizen Soushi" (愛染草紙) respectively. Both the sequels and their theme songs were just as popular as fans pursued the Katsue-Kozo saga. Since it's been more than 80 years, I think spoilers are acceptable: They FINALLY tied the knot at the Aizen Katsura by the end of the last movie. After two long years, the Katsue-Kozo union everyone wanted came to fruition. But even greater news to the fans was when Kirishima and Matsubara tied the knot as well on 17th December that year.
I actually watched "Aizen Katsura" for myself just last night and, for a movie from that era, I actually thought it was pretty good! But honestly, if the books I'd read didn't spoil me, I would've gone insane because the sequels aren't available (from my knowledge) and the first one ended on a cliffhanger. If you'd like to watch it for yourself, you can do so here. There's English subtitles if you hit the captions button.
(Sorry but the video has been taken down.)
The interview starts at the 1:50 mark.
95 points, huh, Mrs. Kirishima? That's very generous.
On the note of our ryukoka power couple, the Kirishimas were interviewed and asked about how they became an item. It was really cute to see the both of them stare blankly at each other and go, "Who made the first move, again?" However, Kiri-san mentioned that they just naturally drifted closer to each other since they were made to work together almost everyday since "Aizen Katsura." However, Columbia Records vehemently objected to the union. Just like the situation with Katsue and Kozo. I can see why, though. From the company's standpoint, it would be a huge loss if one of their most popular stars retires and become a housewife upon marriage (it was that sort of time... Still kinda is). Nevertheless, the couple still went ahead with it.
Here is where I would like to introduce a more potential spicy drama on the Kirishima-Matsubara situation from Kiyomaro Kikuchi's"Showa Enka no Rekishi": When "Aizen Yakyoku" was due to be recorded in 1939, Kirishima was in northern China participating in record company-organized morale boosting concert trips (imon katsudo) for the soldiers stationed in those areas. As a result, Columbia's other, more senior star Akira Matsudaira (松平晃), was set as a replacement and slated to record the duet with Ms. Columbia. Kikuchi further stated that "Aizen Yakyoku" would have been pivotal for both Matsudaira and Kirishima in respectively maintaining or solidifying his popularity. So, catching wind of his replacement, Kirishima made up his mind: He was going back to Japan come hell or high water. Cancelling the performance in Qingdao, he rushed back on a military plane at the speed of light and made it just in time for the recording, ensuring Matsudaira wouldn't steal his thunder. We can look at it from this perspective, but from the way I understood Kikuchi's writing, it seemed like it was more than just competition over popularity... It sounded like a jealous Kirishima who refused to let Matsudaira take his place beside Matsubara. Food for thought.
Fan conspiracy theories aside, after Kirishima and Matsubara wed, the latter did retire from show business, and together they had four kids. Kirishima would continue to perform many of their duets either on his own or with other singers on music programs. The couple remained together for the rest of their lives, and when Kiri-san passed away in April of 1984, Matsubara followed just shy of two months from him. Oddly enough, she also left just a few days before Kiri-san's 70th birthday ;-;. Considering the circumstances that led to their union and how not even death could keep them apart, Kiri-san and Matsubara's story could easily rival Katsue and Kozo's! Someone should make a drama out of it. I would 100% watch it. Chips and soda ready - I'll watch it. NHK, please. I'll subscribe to your service.
If the one who took that last tuna mayo onigiri was Ms. Columbia, I'm sure that Kiri-san frown would be turned upside down.
Mateba kuru kuru Aizen Katsura (Just hang on, spring will come)
Yagate me wo fuku haru ga kuru (And the Aizen Katsura will finally blossom)
"Uta Con"（うたコン）devoted some minutes of its broadcast last night to the late singer Chiyoko Shimakura（島倉千代子）who had passed away ten years ago today at the age of 75. There were some very familiar kayo kyoku sung including her 1980s hit "Jinsei Iroiro"（人生いろいろ）which I posted on the day that she left this mortal coil.
However, one Shimakura song that I hadn't included here on "Kayo Kyoku Plus" was her debut single, "Kono Yo no Hana" (A Flower of This World). Released in March 1955, it was used as the theme song for the cinematic adaptation of a Makoto Hojo（北條誠） novel of the same name, and as written by Yaso Saijo（西條八十）and composed by Tadashi Manjome（万城目正）, "Kono Yo no Hana" is a wistful and wiser if sadder observation on the sweet fragility of a first love as it fritters away like a blossom. Though I've categorized it as an enka tune, enka tunes officially didn't exist until the early 1970s with a lot of sudden retrofitting of songs into that particular genre. But back then, the song had been considered to be a kayo kyoku so I've also put in the pop Label as well.
For Shimakura, who was a month shy of her 17th birthday, her dreams came true on an overwhelming level since "Kono Yo no Hana" became a huge hit, selling two million records within six months of it being put on the shelves. It has remained her biggest hit although Shimakura wouldn't actually sing the song on the Kohaku Utagassen for the first time until her 26th appearance on the NHK New Year's Eve special in 1982.
I've mentioned this to people and readers before but my favourite era in Japanese history isn't particularly the Muromachi or Taisho periods for example. Actually, the one group of years that has been interesting for me is the postwar era extending to the early 1970s because I had always wondered how Japan was able to rise above the ashes to become the 2nd-largest economic power behind the United States at one point. But before I end up wearing those rose-coloured glasses of romanticism, a lot of those years were ones of struggle and with the sudden ramp-up in industrialization once more, there was a heavy toll on the environment and health.
Still, I've been able to get a glimpse and a feel for the Tokyo of the 1950s or 1960s thanks to visits to the Ramen Museum in Yokohama. The time warp walk around the city seems to make one's vision go sepia and the ramen is pretty darn good, too. 😋 I must thank the good people at Nippon Wandering TV for the above video.
But of course, this is a kayo kyoku blog and not a ramen one, although I imagine that there are far more of those than there are of mine. And perhaps filtering over the speakers in the mockup Tokyo underneath the ground floor of the museum is a September or October 1961 single by crooner Hiroshi Inoue（井上ひろし）depending on whether you go with the J-Wiki article on Inoue or YouTube uploader Ka Fu respectively. "Tokyo Waltz" is a Mood Kayo written by Sou Nishizawa（西沢爽）and composed by Itsuro "Raymond" Hattori（服部逸郎）and has the rich tenor of Inoue expressing a man's heartbreak within the Tokyo nightlife. The melody indeed takes on a sad and slow waltz.
The B-side is "Wakare no Tango" (Farewell Tango) which continues the themes of dancing and imminent romantic loss, but this time as the title says, the melody by Tadashi Manjome（万城目正）has a bit more of that Latin spice. Ko Fujiura（藤浦 洸）came up with the lyrics, and listening to the song, I can imagine a couple born of the nightlife in the megalopolis having one last teary cheek-to-cheek dance on the nightclub floor before having to part permanently.
From the new collection of old 45s that I received from Steve some weeks ago, I found this donut-ban by actress-singer Mieko Takamine（高峰三枝子）. Looking at the cover, I had imagined that the songs involved were produced sometime in the 1960s being unaware how far back Takamine's career started.
Actually, the first song on the 45, "Junjou Nijuusou" (Duet of Innocence) was sung by Takamine and Noboru Kirishima（霧島昇）all the way back in 1939 as the theme song for the movie of the same title which starred Takamine. I don't know anything of that film but judging from Yaso Saijo's（西條八十）lyrics, it must have been a bittersweet production as the words talk about two young lovers who started out as orphans missing their mothers.
Even though I categorized the song as an enka tune, I'm not quite sure whether it would be considered as such by kayo fans. The melancholy/jaunty melody by Tadashi Manjome（万城目正）perhaps could be equated with the sweet music that had been popular at the oh-so-dainty evening parties back in the United States at around the same time. Some folks in the States back then probably would have seen jazz as being a little too raunchy.
In any case, "Junjou Nijuusou", both movie and song, brought Takamine to everyone's attention according to the J-Wiki article on the film.
Can't believe this is my first entry for the year 1950. I also can't believe it's been a year since I wrote a Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）article regarding the anniversary of her passing. For that one, it was on "Kanashiki Kuchibue"（悲しき口笛）, the somewhat melancholy ballad featuring a 12-year-old Misora in that iconic tux and tails.
Well, tomorrow will be the 26th anniversary so of course, NHK's "Kayo Concert"（歌謡コンサート）did their tribute to the Grand Dame of Kayo Kyoku tonight via TV Japan, and one of the guests performed another really early Misora classic, "Tokyo Kid". Released in July 1950, just like "Kanashiki Kuchibue", this song was also created by Ko Fujiura and Tadashi Manjome（藤浦洸・万城目正）, and there was a movie with the same title attached to it starring Misora which came out later that year in September.
Instead of the formal tux, though, the 13-year-old Misora was clad as a regular kid trying to make some yen (or sen) in the shoeshining business. And the kid sang something that was quite a bit more starry-eyed and hopeful. Listening to the song, I just thought that this would have been a song that perhaps a vaudeville moppet would have trilled a couple of decades earlier when the Great Depression occurred. The early years of the postwar era were uncertain ones for Japan but I think they were also ones in which people had some image of light at the end of that dark tunnel, and maybe "Tokyo Kid" and the Tokyo Kid were reflections of that feeling. I was especially drawn to that one line in the song: "Dreams in my right pocket, some chewing gum in my left pocket". I could imagine her looking optimistically up at the new buildings going up and determining that she'll be at the top of one of them someday.
On this day 25 years ago, Japan lost one of its great singing legends in Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）. 1989 was a year in which there was no Internet as we know it and there was no TV Japan cable service so news about her passing didn't have the immediate impact on us here as it would have if she had passed away today. Even so, somehow news of her death managed to reach us relatively quickly. I don't recall how we were able to know but I figure that Misora cast such a huge shadow on Japanese contemporary culture that perhaps international news services such as CNN had to have made some mention about it. I could only imagine how the news hit the Japanese population on June 24 1989.
On tonight's episode of NHK's "Kayo Concert"（歌謡コンサート）, there was a full-length show devoted to the late Misora which featured a number of her greatest hits, some of which I have already profiled. When it comes to the genre of enka, it seems that my raison d'etre for creating this blog and watching shows like "Kayo Concert" is to re-discover some of the long lost songs of my childhood at home. And sure enough, lightning struck once more when singer Aki Yashiro （八代亜紀）paid tribute to the Grand Dame of Kayo Kyoku via her version of "Kanashiki Kuchibue" (Sad Whistling). As the song was performed, I remembered a lot of the notes from the old-style jazzy ballad.
But there was a lot of information about the song that I did not know about. It was released in September 1949 as the theme song for a musical-comedy movie of the same name starring a 12-year-old Misora. The video above has that little girl performing "Kanashiki Kuchibue" at what was most likely the climax of the movie. She was also wearing that full tuxedo and silk hat that has become one of the most famous images that everyone has of the singer. It was amazing watching that performance as this diminutive girl who looked younger than 12 sang in a voice and traipsed around the floor in a fashion that made her much older than 12. The song was written by Ko Fujiura（藤浦洸）and composed by Tadashi Manjome（万城目正）, and was fashioned to describe Misora's hometown of Yokohama (the movie was also set there). The lyrics describe a somewhat melancholy night there as the hotel lights and the light in the protagonist's heart go out and the titular sad whistle is echoing through the dark like rain at the port. The song then progresses into the bittersweet aftermath of romance gone. "Kanashiki Kuchibue" is listed in J-Wiki as a ryukoka (literally, pop song in Japanese) but I thought there was so much atmosphere in it that I also had to label it as a Mood Kayo. Would love to have a drink to it.
The above video has Misora performing the song years later (sorry but that video has been taken down), and the vibrancy of her vocals is just incredible. It's how I remember listening to her. And this is how I had always seen her. Instead of the little wunderkind in the black-&-white movies, I remember seeing this glamourous middle-aged woman lighting up the stage and probably terrifying her fellow celebrities at the same time considering how big she was.
"Kanashiki Kuchibue" became the highest-selling record in the postwar era at the time, selling about 450,000 records. It was Misora's first bona-fide hit and currently resides in the 10th position in the Top 10 of her most popular singles.
