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.
Over a decade ago, I posted an article on Saburo Kitajima's（北島三郎）debut single from 1962, "Bungacha Bushi"（ブンガチャ節）. Kitajima has recently retired as the Grand Old Man of Enka but back in those early 1960s, he was merely a 26-year-old man getting his start in the music industry, so on hearing that his first song was getting banned due to some innuendo within the lyrics, he must have wondered whether he was heading back to the salt mines, figuratively speaking. He didn't have to worry too long, though.
In any case, I have his B-side here and it was created by the same duo behind "Bungacha Bushi", lyricist Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）. "Nakimushi Yokocho"(Crybaby Alley), just from the English translation of the title, might sound like something rock n' roll but as was the case with the A-side, it's a fairly galumphing kayo kyoku that still makes me wonder whether it can also be categorized as an upbeat enka tune despite all of the Western instrumentation. Lyrically speaking, it seems to be about the life in the inner city and all that reside there including the local gangster element.
I've only seen taxi drivers in Japan as some of the politest and most button-down professionals in the service industry. But in the past couple of decades, I've unfortunately heard of increasing numbers of incidents of theft and assault against them. Absolutely undeserving of that.😠
Perhaps back in the middle of the 20th century, things were a little more footloose and fancy-free for the regular cab driver in the big city. That's the vibe I get from kayo singer Koichi Aoki's（青木光一）"Boku wa Nagashi no Untenshu"(I'm Just a Working Driver). Released in April 1957 with music and lyrics by Toru Funamura（船村徹）and Miyuki Hatakeyama（石本美由起）respectively, it's a song that I heard in the most recent episode of "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新BS日本の歌）, and it's all about a taxi driver, originally from the countryside, who's having a pretty good and interesting life in Tokyo. He's probably been privy to all sorts of intriguing conversations and information while driving all over, enjoying his dinner on the road and dreaming of bringing over his ol' flame for a tour of the capital.
Here are singers Hiroshi Takeshima and Takuya Nagasawa（竹島宏＆中澤卓也）covering "Boku wa Nagashi no Untenshu" on the kayo show "Jinsei, Uta ga Aru"（人生、歌がある）.
Once again, NHK's "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新・BS日本のうた）came to the rescue with another new enka discovery although the actual song is a few decades old.
Enka singer Ichiro Toba（鳥羽一郎）has been famous for his debut single and hit"Kyodai Bune"（兄弟船）from 1982, and I'm gathering that he may leave this mortal coil (not soon, I certainly hope) being known as the oceangoing enka master.
What he sang on that episode of "Shin BS Nihon no Uta" was another enka devoted to the sea, "Umi no Inori"(A Prayer for the Sea), which was his 8th single from May 1985. Created by the same duo behind "Kyodai Bune", lyricist Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）, you couldn't have another more manly-man enka than "Umi no Inori" with its blasting trumpet, tempestuous strings and gentle guitar representing the fickleness of the great blue. Just like "Kyodai Bune", there's very much of a man in his grand element...his home and mate for life is the great blue ocean.
Back in my junior high school days, one of the few teachers that I actually got along with well was our gym teacher. This is rather ironic since I was frankly the laughingstock of gym class and if the opportunity presented itself, I would feign illness and sleep it off in the nurse's office. In any case, me and a couple of friends were in the jogging club, and our gym teacher was an avid jogger. He was a Bear Grylls type in that he could take on any physical challenge with gusto...probably knew every vintage of his urine.
Well, one day, he exhorts us after school to go out for a brief run. Usually he likes the long run but that day was special on account of there being a MAJOR BLIZZARD raging outside. We began uttering our reluctance but the teacher wouldn't hear anything negative so he threw all of us outside in our tracksuits and sweaters (the one example of winter clothing that he would allow on our person) and we went out battling the hostile elements of snow coming in like missiles and darts, slicing winds and accumulating white stuff that threatened to engulf us like quicksand. How we survived that (and how he survived not getting a lawsuit thrown against him) I have no idea but we somehow managed to slog through an hour of jogging (?) on the side streets.
I always think of that notorious afternoon in the late 1970s when I listen to Saburo Kitajima's（北島三郎）epic "Fubuki Nagare Tabi" (Trek Through Wind and Snow). To be honest, I got to hear the performance again by the legendary enka singer from northern Japan when I watched an NHK retrospective on the Kohaku Utagassen last night which was actually better in its 75-minute format rather than those more arduous multi-day pre-Kohaku warmups with loads of comedians and singers.
Created by veteran lyricist Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and veteran composer Toru Funamura（船村徹） for Sabu-chan as his 37th single from September 1980, "Fubuki Nagare Tabi" has everything for a Kitajima song: strings which glide and stab, a veritable army of shamisen players, a grand arrangement by Masahito Maruyama（丸山雅仁）that reflects the tough journey up in the wintry north, and of course, the singer's clarion call delivery that exhorts and encourages at the same time. He not only sings about the various areas of the region such as Otaru and Hachinohe but he even mentions the instruments making the music and the sounds of nature as they come into some confluence. Enka fans from prefectures including Hokkaido and Akita probably shed a tear or two of pride.
The Kitajima signature song did OK by scoring a high of No. 28 on Oricon and it won the first Masao Koga Memorial Music Award（古賀政男記念音楽大賞）in 1980. However, what gave it immortality was his singing of "Fubuki Nagare Tabi" as the final performance on the 32nd edition of the Kohaku Utagassen at the end of 1981 (he had actually first sung it on the 31st edition). A battalion of shamisen singers was behind the yukata-garbed Kitajima as he sang his heart out but the piece de resistance was the largest and most intense indoor hurricane of paper snow flakes which threatened to engulf not only Sabu-chan but the stage and the audience (not sure whether the singer strangled the special effects guy or hugged him in gratitude). Even non-enka fans will probably remember Kitajima for that one scene even if they don't remember it as part of the Kohaku. He would sing "Fubuki Nagare Tabi" five more times in later editions.
Unfortunately, the above video isn't from that Kohaku but I found something that is a less intense version.
Happy Monday! And it's a regular Monday here but I had been wondering why the Jme TV schedule was all different today. For instance, we only had a half hour of NHK's "News at 9" broadcast instead of the usual one hour and as it turned out, that was due to the fact that it was the third Monday of July, the national holiday known as Marine Day in Japan. So, I figure that everyone was out at the beach or on the water today. Then again, I figure that everyone has been out at the beach or on the water every weekend during this blistering summer.
Well, I thought about putting up something ocean-based as a kayo kyoku today and it didn't take me long to find this one called "Showa Kitamaebune"(The Northbound Ships of Showa) which was enka singer Ichiro Toba's（鳥羽一郎）14th single from May 1987. Crustily sung by Toba, the kitamaebune even has an English Wikipedia entry which talks about Edo Era and Meiji Era merchant ships which went along a route from Osaka all the way up to Hokkaido while stopping off at ports along the Sea of Japan. However, with the advent of railroads on land, the kitamaebune had soon been tossed onto the transportation heap of history before the end of the Meiji Era.
Written by Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and composed by Toru Funamura（船村徹）, I'm assuming that the kitamaebune depicted in this muscular enka number was talking more of a manly man's farewell to his younger sister as she joins her new husband up further north sometime in the Showa Era (1926-1989). The song might have that feeling of a tough Saburo Kitajima（北島三郎）song but the lyrics reveal more of the tender side of a bittersweet goodbye and good luck to a beloved family member.
The above video comes from NP-office and it silently shows a typical kitamaebune.
I had an old friend of mine who lives in Japan ask me whether I would be returning for a visit anytime this year. Unfortunately, my answer wasn't too positive due to current financial and logistical issues. Of course, I would love to go back and see my old friends and former students/colleagues, and if I could, I would also enjoy returning to the ol' Tokyo Prince Hotel. Among other things, it is across the street from Tokyo Tower, still a major symbol of the capital of Japan. Wouldn't it be nice to get a room with a view of the old tower, although most likely it would cost a ton of yen for the night.
Last Tuesday, I wrote up an article on Toshihiko Tahara's（田原俊彦）old-style jazzy "Romanticist de Ii janai"（ロマンティストでいいじゃない）and right at the start, I referenced an even older article regarding former SMAP member Shingo Katori（香取慎吾）in jazz mode himself via his 2022 album"Tokyo SNG". Well, a commenter below then pointed out another song from that album which happened to have the dapper Katori teaming up with none other than the amazingly zany song and dance team, Atarashii Gakko no Leaders（新しい学校のリーダーズ）.
Well, I replied that I would have to check this one out. The video itself appeared on Katori's own YouTube channel only a week ago, and the song is simply "Tokyo Tower". Katori and Atarashii Gakko no Leaders make like the most congenial tokusatsu monster figures this side of baby Mothra as they all do a lovely singing soft-shoe reminiscent of the good ol' days of live TV music-variety shows. I know that crazy Suzuka has often performed the lead vocals for the group, but she really does stand out here in her duet with Katori.
Now, as usually would be the case for any song getting onto KKP, I did search for the songwriters behind "Tokyo Tower". My first assumption had been that it was a couple of folks in this century who just knew how to create the old stuff. However, my look at the JASRAC database revealed the composer to be the late Toru Funamura（船村徹）, one of the foremost songwriters of the kayo era. As it turns out, "Tokyo Tower"is an old chestnut of the kayo era! In fact, none other than Hibari Misora（美空ひばり）, the Queen of Kayo Kyoku herself, recorded "Tokyo Tower" as her 151st single and released it in March 1959. With Toshio Nomura（野村俊夫）behind the lyrics, Misora sings in a higher pitch than I'm accustomed to. Other than that, it's a jazzy kayo about the wonders of the then newly-built Tokyo Tower that had been completed in December 1958.
Around this time in 2017, I wrote about "Ame no Yoru Anata wa Kaeru"（雨の夜あなたは帰る）by singer Kazuhiko Shima（島和彦）which ended up as a hit that earned him a place at the 1966 edition of NHK's Kohaku Utagassen and then it was later covered by smoky-voiced Naomi Chiaki（ちあきなおみ）some years later.
However, "Ame no Yoru Anata wa Kaeru" wasn't the first song by Shima. His debut single, "Etsuraku no Blues"(Pleasure Blues), was released in August 1965 but it hit a wave of controversy. Obviously the single was made and sold (and just to warn listeners, the above recording gets a little jumpy near the end), but it was banned from being broadcast on radio and, I'm also assuming, television. According to one Japanese blog, it was given the evil eye by the government for 1) being the theme song for a Nagisa Oshima（大島渚）movie titled "Etsuraku"（悦楽...Pleasure） which was considered an adult flick, and 2) it was considered to give off unwanted images of moral decay, nihilism and pessimism.
The same songwriting duo behind "Ame no Yoru Anata wa Kaeru", lyricist Osamu Yoshioka（吉岡治）and composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）, was also responsible for "Etsuraku no Blues". Listening to it now, it comes off as the prototypically languid Mood Kayo with the usual bluesy saxophone and a softly galloping beat. If I've understood Yoshioka's lyrics correctly, the story is of a woman, most likely a hostess, languishing in a bar as she waits for a client that she's fallen for but knows that he'll end up leaving her as her past paramours have.
The above is the trailer for Oshima's "Etsuraku", and the music used certainly seems to take it into psychological horror territory. I notice that one of the cast is a very young Mariko Kaga（加賀まりこ）who would become one of the hosts on Fuji-TV's long-running "Yoru no Hit Studio"（夜のヒットスタジオ）music program. In any case, having his debut single shot down from the radio and television must have been quite a blow to Shima's prospects but obviously things got much better with his next few recordings.
If anything, Naomi Chiaki's cover of "Etsuraku no Blues" sounds even jauntier with an even deeper-sounding saxophone intro. The arrangement makes the song come across as an ironically cheerful Mood Kayo with its slightly faster tempo. Chiaki's delivery has her protagonist hostess feeling more wistfully resigned to her fate and standing in society as if she's saying "Well, tomorrow is another day". I don't know when her version originally came out but it is included in that 2007 album of hers giving tribute to the late composer Funamura that I mentioned in the article for "Ame no Yoru Anata wa Kaeru".
I was watching NHK's "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新・BS日本のうた...Songs of Japanese Spirit） earlier this afternoon, and I saw enka singer Takeshi Kitayama（北山たけし）performing his father-in-law's New Year's Day 1991 single as a tribute to the late composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）.
Of course, when that father-in-law is the legendary Saburo Kitajima（北島三郎）, there's a lot to live up to, but Kitayama did him proud today. "Kita no Daichi" (The Great Land in the North) has got that quintessential Sabu-chan sound: the grand and muscular enka stomp, the epic chorus and Kitajima's proud proclamation about his home prefecture of Hokkaido as this vast area of nature and goodness, thanks to the lyrics provided by Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）. It doesn't surprise me that the single was released right on New Year's Day since I could imagine if it had been a sunny day up there in Hokkaido on January 1st, the blue sky, the snow-capped mountains and the sea of white would have been spectacular.
Peaking at No. 33 on Oricon, "Kita no Daichi" won a Grand Prize at the Japan Record Awards that year and Kitajima made his appearance on the 1991 edition of the Kohaku Utagassen to perform the song. The paper snowflakes must have been in especially great supply during that performance.
When it comes to Shinjuku and the genre of enka, my KKP-obsessed mind automatically goes to the late Keiko Fuji（藤圭子）, especially via one of her trademark songs "Shinjuku no Onna"（新宿の女）.
Although I've heard of plenty of Ginza-based enka and Mood Kayo over the years and then some Roppongi kayo, I can't say that I've heard of a lot of Shinjuku-based songs that come easily from my memories although they probably have had their say within the pages of the blog over the past ten years. To explain, I believe that my imagination has used one of Tokyo's famous neighbourhoods as the setting for songs from many genres, but to hear a kayo that has given a shoutout to Shinjuku within its lyrics or its title isn't quite as easy.
But in recent weeks, I was able to gain knowledge about another Shinjuku song through Hiroshi Itsuki's（五木ひろし）September 2021 single"Shinjuku Mangetsu" (Full Moon Over Shinjuku) because of his performance on "Uta Con"（うたコン）. Itsuki's tenderhearted vocals and Masakane Tsuta's（蔦将包）arrangement of the song, especially with that accordion and the haunting female backing chorus, strike me as a pleasant old-fashioned enka ballad which perhaps even Fuji could have tackled. By the way, that's a nice video of Itsuki against the backdrop of skyscraper-stuffed Shinjuku.
That adjective of old-fashioned is quite apt since "Shinjuku Mangetsu" was written by a couple of legendary songwriters who both left us several years ago, lyricist Yu Aku（阿久悠）and composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）. In fact, I can hear that Latin guitar plucking away introspectively which was a characteristic of the latter's melodies. Over the past few years, I've noticed that new songs have been featured on shows such as "Uta Con" that had been created by songwriters who passed away quite a while ago and since despite looking, Itsuki's rendition doesn't seem to be a cover of any original from years back, I'm now wondering if record companies are now digging through the time vaults for any musical creations that never reached the recording stage.
What also brings that certain enka-ness to "Shinjuku Mangetsu" is the lyrical content in which the protagonist who's now working in Tokyo (presumably in one of the huge towers of Shinjuku) is pining over the moon for the love that they have left behind in the hometown, and perhaps that significant other is sharing the same moon for the same purpose. Being separated from the warmth of family, friends and love in one's regional birthplace while toiling away in the metropolis was definitely one of the big tropes for the old kayo way back when.
Itsuki may now have retired from the Kohaku Utagassen and at this writing, I'm still not sure what the fate of this program is (one longtime NHK variety series quickly got the axe in the past few days), but if the veteran performer could return, it would be nice if he could sing this one on the Shibuya stage once more, although he would be performing it a kilometre south of the titular area.
Just before dinner tonight, TV Japan was showing the weekly episode of "Songs of Japanese Spirit" from NHK's satellite channel, and it's been a while, but singer-actor Akira Kobayashi（小林旭）appeared in a segment in his tribute. The veteran entertainer just turned 83 a few weeks ago but he's still looking pretty spry and plenty burly.
From www2u.biglobe.ne.jp
Unfortunately, I couldn't find any footage of the above movie, "Nirenjuu no Tetsu"（二連銃の鉄）which has been translated online as "Tetsu's Shotgun" although I think that it sounds cooler literally translated as "Double-Barreled Tetsu". This April 1959 flick starred Kobayashi as Tetsutaro（鉄太郎）, a gun-for-hire who's fresh out of prison when he soon gets involved into another whirlwind of trouble and intrigue.
Anyways, one of the songs that Kobayashi performed on "Songs of Japanese Spirit" was "Dynamite ga Hyaku-go-juu Ton" (150 Tons of Dynamite) which wasn't the theme song for "Nirenjuu no Tetsu" but an insert song. Originally released as Kobayashi's 2nd single in November 1958, it's a pretty swinging kayo sung with plenty of brio by The Might Guy (his nickname) although the high pitch at which he sings out those first few words caught me off-guard. The melody by Toru Funamura（船村徹）is not quite jazz although it does sound jazzy and it's definitely not Mood Kayo but I gather that it is a tune that would be just great at a nightclub where Kobayashi is the featured performer. Shinichi Sekizawa（関沢新一）was the lyricist.
According to the intro given at the start of the video, the announcer states that "Dynamite ga Hyaku-go-juu Ton" may have been the first homegrown rock-n'-roll number to become a hit in Japan, although I'm still not quite sure whether I would consider this as such a tune from the rock genre (unfortunately, that video has been taken down).
Over the years that I've been doing "Kayo Kyoku Plus", I've been gaining some more aural experience in terms of the sounds of certain composers and/or arrangers. With Ryuichi Sakamoto（坂本龍一）, it's that odd pleasurable quirk that he can slide into his synthesizers while Yumi Matsutoya（松任谷由実）can often put in that reassuring breezy melody. In the enka genre, I've realized that the late composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）may have always injected that distinctively pensive guitar of his, perfect for brooding over a tumbler of whiskey or a glass of shochu.
Funamura was responsible for the composition of this particular ballad by enka singer Ichiro Toba（鳥羽一郎）,"Wasure Yado" (An Inn of Forgotten Memories). The B-side to his 5th single"Wakare no Yado"（別れの宿...An Inn of Parting） released in April 1984, the lyrics by Daisaburo Nakayama（中山大三郎）talk of a woman somehow looking on or imagining her former paramour and his wife following a brief affair at their old haunt of an inn. Through the tears, the heartbroken woman is wishing them well as she tries to reassure herself that this is for the best. Couldn't get more enka than this. Meanwhile, that Funamura guitar hits right from the start going high and then low as Toba gives a woodsy and resonant delivery. The heart-on-sleeve strings which alternately glide and pluck adds to the melancholy atmosphere.
Toba's version is actually a cover of the original by Eiko Segawa（瀬川瑛子）whose "Wasure Yado" was released in November 1983. I couldn't find the recorded version of the song but listening to the above performance, Segawa gives a more emotion-drenched take and the arrangement sounds folksier. I can definitely hear the disappointment and mourning in her vocals.
I don't know whether Hiroshi Itsuki's（五木ひろし）cover of "Wasure Yado" was ever officially released as part of a single or an album in tribute to Funamura, and if it was, when it was released. That Funamura guitar sound still exists but the arrangement takes on a bigger presence because of some epic strings and other added flourishes.
For me, the genre of Mood Kayo with its Latin, Hawaiian or bluesy influences sends me images of swanky bars or nightclubs, hidden or overtly famous with the backup choruses intoning their "wa-wa-wa-wa". Enka is even more traditional with the themes of love and challenges in the countryside. However, there is that certain corner of enka which does take place in the city usually with that guitar-toting balladeer poking into the more modest and smaller drinking establishments within the older quarters of Tokyo and then playing a sweet love song.
That's how I think of "Shinjuku Jouwa"(Shinjuku Love Story) which was written by Ryo Inomata（猪又良）and composed by the late and great Toru Funamura（船村徹）. Inomata created a story of a barfly in a tiny watering hole in Shinjuku...perhaps somewhere on the famous bar street known as Golden Gai...when he sees a woman crying softly along the bar. He knows her as Hiroko and apparently she's had another heartbreak or some bad fate befall her for which he offers her a shoulder to cry upon and perhaps his rickety apartment to sleep it off at. He may be a comrade-at-arms just helping a buddy out or he may have some deeper feelings for her which is why the really cynical part of me wants to say "Watch out, Hiroko!".
Scrolling down Funamura's long list of creations for singers in his J-Wiki file, it seems that "Shinjuku Jouwa" was first recorded by baritone/bass-voiced Moody Matsushima（ムーディー松島）in 1968. With a name like that, Matsushima probably has done Mood Kayo but here, it's more of that mournful enka. His real name is Takashi Matsushima（松島孝）and hailing from Tochigi Prefecture, he started his singing career in 1967 and "Shinjuku Jouwa" was his 3rd single. According to the Showa Pop Encyclopedia, he released at least four singles in the late 1960s and then perhaps two singles in the 1980s but his discography is a tad sporadic.
Judging from seeing some of the videos on YouTube, "Shinjuku Jouwa" has been covered a lot, and it's no surprise since the ballad is definitely one to let out the emotions through a genre that is supposed to allow for a lot of emotional release. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out which year singer Naomi Chiaki（ちあきなおみ）had recorded her version of the song although it's available on her 1994 "Chiaki Naomi Vol. 3 ~ Shinjuku Jouwa", a couple of years after she had retired from the geinokai.
The arrangement for Chiaki's cover is not all that much different from the original by Matsushima, but there are the additions of a crying violin and some form of accordion to enhance the melancholy qualities of "Shinjuku Jouwa". Of course, the Latin guitar of the balladeer has to be there, too.
Here is another enka singer that I hadn't heard of but he also gives a wonderful take on "Shinjuku Jouwa", although his vocals are more in the tenor range. Eiji Miyoshi（三善英史）released his take on the song back in 1979 through his album "Enka"（演歌）, his final original album, although he has continued to release singles up to 2017 according to his own J-Wiki article. His version of "Shinjuku Jouwa" has a slightly more languid tempo and he has a bigger string unit backing him up.
Miyoshi hails from Tokyo's Shibuya Ward and made his debut in 1972. He's even appeared on the Kohaku Utagassen a total of three times between 1973 and 1975.
I couldn't finish this article without having the master Funamura himself perform "Shinjuku Jouwa". Again, I haven't been able to track down when he covered the song but according to Tsutaya, it's not on the album portrayed in the thumbnail above, "Kitai no Mei Kashu ~ Funamura Toru"（希代の名歌手 船村徹...The Extraordinary Singer: Toru Funamura）. Funamura gives an especially heartrending version since his vocals feel as if he's looking at poor Hiroko as his own daughter or granddaughter.
When it comes to the works of enka singer Aya Shimazu（島津亜矢）on "Kayo Kyoku Plus", we've often brought her to articles where she has covered songs of the original singers.
Therefore, it's nice when we can cover a song that is one of her own, and that is the case of her 13th single"Uminari no Uta" (The Song of the Sounds of the Sea) released in June 1995. Enka is the one genre where having plenty of emotion on one's sleeve is pretty much a requirement, and I think Shimazu has one of those voices which can literally roar across the vocal spectrum.
Created by legends, lyricist Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）, Shimazu can plumb the smoky depths of her voice and then bring it all the way up to the ear-ringing heights. Hoshino's lyrics contain a few kanji that I'm not too cognizant of, but from what I could interpret of them, it reads like a most epic account of a seaside-residing fishing family through the generations. Those proud horns and electric guitar complete the effect.
Come to think of it, Hoshino and Funamura did create the classic "Kyodai Bune"（兄弟船）for Ichiro Toba（鳥羽一郎）many years earlier, and it's the account of fishing brothers fighting the elements to get their catch for the family.
Often when it comes to the kayo of Hokkaido, Japan's northernmost main island, the genres revolve around enka and Mood Kayo. I gather that there is something about the striking topography and the climate of the prefecture that lend themselves to the traditional music.
For that reason, I think "Souya Misaki" (Cape Souya) by the folk duo Da Capo（ダ・カーポ）is a bit of an outlier. For one thing, it's actually a relaxing folk song and not an epic enka about Cape Souya right at the northern tip of Hokkaido, and in terms of meteorology, the lyrics by Hiroshi Yoshida（吉田弘）depict the gradual warming-up of the region as spring approaches.
Another thing is that the melody is composed by the late Toru Funamura（船村徹）, someone that I usually expected an enka from through the songs that Noelle and I have covered over the years. But "Souya Misaki" is as gentle as a children's folksy lullaby as the environment thaws out from the winter. The song was released as a track on Da Capo's May 1978 album"Yuuhodou"（遊歩道...Promenade）.
You can read more about Da Capo including how the duo got their name at my first article about them, "Yuki Moyo"（雪もよう）.
Hello, I hope everyone's doing fine and keeping well in a time like this. I'm just about done with my autumn semester in university and I've washed my hands off those (somewhat) pesky research papers I'd been saddled with which is why I finally have the time to write for leisure.
On the note of research papers, while most of these assignments I've written thus far have been based in politics and doom and gloom, I had the opportunity to do something a little more... me this time around for my "Japanese Pop Culture" class. The prof had said that the paper could be on anything that related to Japan's Pop culture scene, so, would you like to take a gander at what I wrote about? :)
With much help from Christine Yano's "Tears of Longing" (2002), a documentary on two of my all time favourite enka veterans, and a bunch of abstract concepts I still have trouble comprehending, I managed to put together a piece on how enka relates to the Japanese collective memory. It's by no means a work of art and it'll most likely be read only by my professor, but I felt happy to have written about a genre that hasn't been explored extensively in academia (in the English language, at least). Since I had the freedom to more or less include what I wanted, I resolved to give a shoutout to the First Enka Singer, who often gets overshadowed by the Queen of Kayokyoku, Hibari Misora (美空ひばり). Understandably so, but Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) should get some recognition as well (because some of y'all might remember how much I love him). Of course, I did so with a legitimate reason as well. That being his magnum opus, "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" from 1955. I'd actually talked a little about "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" ages ago when I first became intrigued by such melancholic bokyo or homesick enka (you can check it out here). However, it took me until now to not only fully appreciate it, but also understand why it sits in the hallowed halls of enka fame decades after its release.
From the documentary with Hachi and fellow King Records star Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也), "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" came out during the time when Japan's economy was getting back on track. That meant many left the rural areas for urban work; while deep in the city many would pine for their loved ones and the comfort and tranquility their countryside hometowns have, or, at least, so is their imagined, perfect version of it. And so, what composer Toru Funamura (船村徹) and lyricist Kimio Takano (高野公男) did was, in a sense, condense such feelings into the song, and have it even serve as a reminder to never forget one's roots no matter where one ended up. This struck a chord with many in such a plight and its popularity spawned many others with a similar vein. So, "Wakare no Ippon Sugi" not only reaffirmed Hachi's and Funamura's place in Japanese music history, but also could've brought its first listeners back to the time when they resonated with it most the moment the lonely introductory guitar chords hit their ears decades later. (Ack, I should've added this last bit into my paper....)
Here's Funamura lending his vocals to his composition. His voice is nowhere near as perfect as Hachi's, but it's because of that which gives it that extra dose of countryfolk rusticity and thus was probably able to relate to more folks.
I find it amusing that I've been getting opportunities to do projects on enka. Just last year, I was able to do a Japanese presentation on it at the prompting of my teacher, and now this paper and I hope these opportunities continue to come. You know, I actually never knew what I meant when I said I wanted to "teach" people about enka a number of years ago. But, I guess I do now. It's rather cathartic.
I believe I got this still from the "Hyotan Boogie" karaoke MV
I have to admit that this is one of the more unusual Xmas kayothat I've encountered in KKP's 8 years of tracking down Japanese Yuletide tunes.
Never would I have imagined that an aidoru group the size of Morning Musume（モーニング娘。）or Hello! Project（ハロー!プロジェクト）would mash voices with an enka legend and a famed kayo folk singer to create one of their own Christmas songs. But that is indeed what happened in 2002 in the form of Hiroshi Itsuki's（五木ひろし）114th single released in November that year.
Titled "Ai no Merry Christmas" (Merry Christmas of Love), it is sung by the collaborative group of Itsuki, Takao and Hello! Project Seikatai（五木・孝雄+ハロー!プロジェクト聖歌隊。...Itsuki, Takao and Hello! Project Chorus） with the second fellow being Takao Horiuchi（堀内孝雄）of the folk duo Alice（アリス）. And it seems like from the video that the chorus is made up of former and current members of Morning Musume along with Aya Matsuura（松浦亜弥）at least.
To be honest, the combination of Xmas jingle and Mood Kayo doesn't exactly mesh perfectly, starting with a slightly ominous intro then into a wistful and contemporary Yuletide melody before the singing commences with the typical Mood Kayo feeling. And unlike any Hello! Project song, this had no Tsunku（つんく）helping out on the songwriting. Instead, it was the kayo veterans, lyricist Yu Aku（阿久悠）and composer Toru Funamura（船村徹）behind "Ai no Merry Christmas" with Kei Wakakusa（若草恵）behind the arrangement.
So, this particular J-Xmas song will probably have to grow on me over the next number of days before Christmas Day finally does dawn once more, but the Mood Kayo segments are fine with me.
I mentioned in a previous article that I had caught a 90-minute kayo program last Saturday afternoon. Well, one of the other tunes that I was happy to hear for the first time was "Yoru ga Waretteiru" (The Night is Laughing) and on that show, it was performed by enka singer Yukino Ichikawa（市川由紀乃）.
Originally recorded in 1958 by the late Shigeko Orii（織井茂子）, "Yoru ga Waretteiru" was written by Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and composed by Toru Funamura（船村徹）as a delicate and mournful enka ballad about a romance gone sour. The woman in the lyrics is now trying to drown her sorrows in drink at some watering hole although she admits that she hates the booze but needs it to get rid of the pain.
For Orii, this was another hit song alongside her even bigger blockbuster "Kimi no Na wa"（君の名は）from 1953. "Yoru ga Waretteiru" sold around 900,000 records and it earned the singer her 3rd invitation to the Kohaku Utagassen at the Shinjuku Koma Theatre at the end of 1958. Speaking of Ichikawa, though, here she is (though on a different program) singing the song. It seems that these later performances have taken on an even more enka feeling than the original which kinda mixes the enka and kayo aspects.
A few weeks ago on "Uta Kon"（うたコン）, I saw veteran enka singer Miyako Otsuki（大月みやこ）make another appearance on the show where the hosts mentioned that she was now in her 55th year in show business. In fact, I discovered in her J-Wiki bio that the official 55th anniversary will be achieved in about a month.
Otsuki sang her most recent single which may be the 128th in her career but in a display of Mother's Day-like charm, bidanshi singer Keisuke Yamauchi（山内惠介）gave tribute to her by performing one of her older classics, "Onna no Minato" (A Woman's Harbour).
Charmed by the song itself, I decided to look for any videos of Otsuki herself actually performing this ballad which was her 57th single released in August 1983. I found the above video and I wasn't disappointed. Plus, the enjoyment was further enhanced since I knew from the narration and the set that the clip originated from the famed TV Tokyo series "Enka no Hanamichi"（演歌の花道）.
"Onna no Minato", the wistful ballad of a woman pining for the love of her life separated from her probably due to work is once again one of those entries that's hard for me to distinguish in terms of whether it is an enka tune or a Mood Kayo song. The lyrics by Tetsuro Hoshino（星野哲郎）and the slower tempo make it feel like the former but I couldn't help but feel that the melody from Toru Funamura（船村徹）as arranged by Masahito Maruyama（丸山雅仁）is fairly similar to songs by The Tough Guy, Yujiro Ishihara（石原裕次郎）in the 70s and 80s. Perhaps "Onna no Minato" is as much of a song to raise an ochoko of sake to as it is one to lift a tumbler of whiskey to.
I couldn't find out how well it did on Oricon but considering that it sold 300,000 records, it did well enough indeed. Anyways, many congratulations to Ms. Otsuki!
Oh, so shibui. I haven't heard too much enka or Mood Kayo recently, especially with the summer songs taking over the previous episode of "Uta Con"（うたコン）. So it's nice to encounter one of the oldies but goodies by the Queen of Kayo Kyoku herself.
I'm not totally sure about the release of Hibari Misora's（美空ひばり）"Ore-tachi no Uta Ima Doko ni" (Where Is Our Song Now?) but a couple of YouTube videos had it pegged down in either 1978 or 1979. Well, I will go with the latter for now.
Part of the title will give the show away in terms of who Misora is characterizing in Hiroshi Yokoi's（横井弘）lyrics. Ore refers to the very informal masculine version of the first-person singular so the legend is singing from the man's point of view. In this case, the song composed by another late legend, Toru Funamura（船村徹）, has Misora singing in that lower register with a slightly playful but also wistful tone about how time is passing by. It's not just about the music that has been changing but also the world that has been evolving as the guys spend time at the local nomiya reminiscing and commiserating. The singer seems to take on a tipsy delivery to reflect those hours drinking with good buddies. Even the song itself has that slightly tipsy quality.
The above version has a boozy sax in there (sorry the original video was taken down) so "Ore-tachi no Uta Ima Doki ni" perhaps has a more Mood Kayo flavour here. And indeed, those two fellow bracketing her are Hiroshi Itsuki（五木ひろし）on the left and Saburo Kitajima（北島三郎）on the right in their younger days (unfortunately that video has been taken down and replaced). Itsuki and Kitajima were probably already enka veterans when this concert took place but can you imagine how they still felt standing with Misora herself? By the same token, can you imagine them now seeing this video wearing those clothes? Ah, those were the 1970s for you.
Came across this unusual Keiko Fuji（藤圭子）song today. I say "unusual" because "Aka Chochin Blues" (Red Lantern Blues) is pretty darn sprightly for a Fuji song, and an enka tune to boot, since I've been accustomed to her much darker Mood Kayo outings from the early 1970s. And although it does have the word "blues" in there, I'm not sure whether Fuji's bar mama-san is really all that down in the dumps as she describes the trials and tribulations of owning a watering hole for the variety of drunken fellows.
Words and music were provided by Daisaburo Nakayama（中山大三郎）and Toru Funamura（船村徹） respectively. The music by Funamura was especially notable in that with the skippy melody and the clarinet in there, I wondered whether he was going for something reminiscent of a chindon'ya（チンドン屋）, the Japanese traditional marching band. It definitely puts an interesting kick into the proceedings.
"Aka Chochin Blues" was released as the B-side to Fuji's 35th single from October 1979, "Kawaii Onna"（可愛い女...Pretty Woman）.
