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.
As of late, J-Canuck has been doing a series featuring the various Gosanke (御三家) trios in Japanese music. His article featuring theEnka Sanba Garasu (演歌三羽烏) did catch my attention since it featured the three enka greats: Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎), Michiya Mihashi (三橋美智也), and Hideo Murata (村田英雄). It was a little surprising to see that this trio had been given this collective label as I know them as the Sannin no Kai (三人の会). Still, the music industry back in the day did seem to have a thing for labelling a trio of popular male singers as a bunch of ravens/crows. That, then, brought to mind the trio I knew with this very label: Sengo Sanba Garasu (Three Ravens of the Postwar Era).
The Sengo Sanba Garasu include Haruo Oka (岡晴夫), Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫), and Toshiro Omi (近江俊郎). I would argue that they could've also been a Senzen (prewar) Sanba Garasu since they debuted in the 1930s and Okapparu and Batayan had spawned a number of classics in the immediate prewar era. But some of their most recognizable hits did come from the immediate postwar era, including Omi's late breakout single "Yu no Machi Elegy" (湯の町エレジー) from 1948. Those hits seemed to have been a reflection of those living in a devasted nation, encompassing both their sadness and hope in the war's aftermath. With their song, perhaps these ravens served as the harbingers of solace for the many who needed it. Now, if only the crows outside my place sounded as good as these guys.
Y'know, I wonder if there had been a Senzen Sanba Garasu. Even if there wasn't such a trio, I can imagine who'd be the three: Ichiro Fujiyama, Dick Mine, Noboru Kirishima... or Taro Shoji... or Bin Uehara. Okay, the last one may just be favouritism rearing its head.
I've been to individual onsen（温泉）but alas, I never had the opportunity to really experience a full-blown onsen town or yuu-no-machi（湯の町）. My anime buddy and a couple of his friends were fortunate enough in the pre-pandemic times to make it out to Ginzan Onsen（銀山温泉）in Yamagata Prefecture to take in the wonderful townscape where tourists in their yukata could do their own version of barhopping by trying out the various types of hot springs. Since my buddy is also a photography hobbyist, he had the grandest time taking shots of the area which is especially spectacular at night. I gather that there is a certain mystique and romance with the combination of light and dark at Ginzan with bright white wisps or billowing clouds of steam escaping.
By the way, the above footage of Ginzan Onsen came under the aegis of Kuga's Travel, one YouTube channel that I have been subscribed to for quite a while now.
Yesterday, I was watching NHK's "Shin BS Nihon no Uta"（新・BS日本のうた...New Broadcast Satellite Songs of Japan）, the longer and slightly grander version of "Uta Kon"（うたコン）which focuses almost solely on kayo kyoku genres such as enka and Mood Kayo, and one of the special segments for that episode was a tribute to the late composer Masao Koga（古賀政男）. Koga will always be known as one of the master architects for kayo kyoku, and his brand of music, affectionately called Koga Melodies（古賀メロディー）, is notable for the sad Latin guitar imbued into his songs. Our resident kayo kyoku expert, Noelle Tham, gave a tasting on Koga's music several years ago via "The Works of Masao Koga" on KKP, so have a read of that if you like.
One of the songs that was featured on Noelle's article was actor/director Toshiro Omi's（近江俊郎）"Yuu-no-Machi Elegy", a ryukoka（流行歌...literally, popular song） from 1948 which centered around the realization of love lost in an onsen town. Toshio Nomura（野村俊夫）applied the lyrics to Koga's melancholy melody and the result was a huge hit for Omi, selling around 400,000 records, although the J-Wiki article for "Yuu-no-Machi Elegy" (Onsen Town Elegy) also stated that it took 23 missed takes to get to a satisfying one since Omi couldn't quite hit the low notes right. As well, the song had initially been titled "Yuu-no-Machi Blues" but because the finished product by Koga didn't have that blues feeling, the switch in titles was made.
I discovered that the guest on "Shin Nihon no Uta" was veteran enka singer Eisaku Ohkawa（大川栄策）who had been a student of Koga's, and I think that he was the ideal singer to cover "Yuu-no-Machi Elegy". It's always advantageous for any singer to have a certain unique and recognizable quality in their voice. There is soul in Aya Shimazu's（島津亜矢）vocals and Saburo Kitajima（北島三郎）has always had that working-man oaken quality in his voice. With Ohkawa, his high, nasal and somewhat mournful qualities probably struck the late Koga as things that could apply very well to his music collectively. So it wasn't any surprise that Ohkawa's version of "Yuu-no-Machi Elegy" was released as his 10th single in July 1972.
Rather slick-looking fellow, if I don't say so myself.
Source: J-Wiki
Toshiro Omi (近江俊郎) is a name I see quite often whenever I'm digging around YouTube for enka or ryukoka to listen to due to his melancholic "Yu no Machi no Elegy" (湯の町エレジー) sitting among those fondly remembered kayo of yesteryear - I talked on it a little in Part 1 of the Masao Koga (古賀政男) Creator article, so you can check it out here if, you like. He seemed like a pretty cool character to me (just like a few other artistes from his era) and I quite enjoy his vocals, so I was keen to get to know more of what other songs he had recorded in his career besides his smash hit. Quite by coincidence, I stumbled upon "Kanojo wa Iya to Iimashita". It's not one of Omi's more well-known entries in his discography as, besides this video, I am not able to find it anywhere else on the web. I do, however, find it entertaining.
Unlike "Yu no Machi no Elegy", this isn't your cry-in-your-sake-at-the-bar tune. In fact, it's a stark contrast with its happy-go-lucky and charming score that is quite refreshing and easy on the ears, brought to you by Shigeru Tamura (田村しげる). And then there's the lyrics. "Kanojo wa Iya to Iimashita", translates to something on the line of "My girlfriend/She said no", so what's the girl saying no to? Well, it's not explicitly mentioned, but from what 青戸隆幸 (I'm not sure how his name is pronounced) had written and that sweetly coy manner in which Omi sang the "no/iya" bit, I believe it's quite apparent that our leading lady here is not rejecting an offer of a cheeseburger. Instead, she's shutting down the hopeful advances of her sweetheart as they take a stroll down a (most likely) secluded forest path, much to his increasing frustration. Despite that, it looks like she finally relents in the end after he got miffed by the prospect of not hitting first base... or maybe he was gunning for a home run?
Whatever intentions the fellow has in mind, it gives quite an honest look into what goes down in a young/new relationship, I must say, but with its undertones and premises, I wonder if Omi got some flak from the powers that be for "Kanojo wa Iya to Iimashita" when it came out in 1952. And then again, with all the scrutiny going on in the recent years, I'm pretty sure if it came out at this day and age there'll be netizens (among others) pouncing on it and tearing it to shreds.
Anyway, since this is the first proper article for Omi, here's some background info on him. Omi, whose real name was Toshihiko Ohkura (大蔵敏彦), was born in Tokyo on 7th July 1918. He debuted as a singer under the name of Toshihiro Sameshima (鮫島敏弘... I also don't know if that's the right pronunciation) with the song "Suberoyo Ski" (辷ろよスキー) in 1936. However, he did not produce any hits for a good decade, and had revised his stage name multiple times only settling on "Toshiro Omi" in 1942. It was only in 1946 when he finally had his big break via "Kanashiki Takebue" (悲しき竹笛), a duet with Mitsue Nara (奈良光枝), and then "Yu no Machi no Elegy" came out a couple of years later, and its success allowed Omi to join the ranks of Haruo Oka (岡晴夫) and Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫), who were collectively known as the Sengou Sanba Garasu (戦後三羽烏... Postwar Trio). In 1955, he made his directorial debut with the movie "Youki na Tengoku" (陽気な天国) which he starred in and was produced by his own company, Omi Production (近江プロダクション). In 1992, at the age of 73, Omi passed away after battling prostate cancer for a few years.
P.S. Y'know perhaps this lady's lover would've backed down if she had this wonderful postcard courtesy of the nutso character Sam, played by the crudely hilarious YouTuber Brandon Rogers - only look up his stuff if you don't have a weak heart.
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... Okay, okay, I'm kidding. Please don't come after me.
Took me more than a year to finally get around to it, but here's a tribute to the great composer with his trademark square glasses and neat mustache, Masao Koga (古賀政男), via a Creator article.
This'll be my first entry under this label - I'd always wanted try my hand at a Creator article ever since J-Canuck started it this sort of write-ups, and I wanted to do one on a composer whose works I could more or less pinpoint easily, so who better than this legendary Showa era songwriter? All the more I thought he was a good and fitting candidate as I got the opportunity to visit his museum in Tokyo in 2016. However, I knew that this would be a big undertaking, considering Koga's title of Father of Kayokyoku and the fact that there are numerous famous pieces of music under his name. One article wouldn't suffice - it might, but it would be an extremely lengthy one. As such, I had to wait until I had the time and the will (the most important) to consolidate what I know about him into a couple of articles, and so, I thought now would be good since my schedule is pretty free, and "Uta Kon" paid their annual tribute to him this week, and his 113th birthday is coming up.
As mentioned, Koga had an extensive discography, so I'll try my best to put down what he was known for, as well as some interesting ones I'd come across. In this first part, I will include Koga's bio and his early works from when he began his composing duties in the 1930's to the post war period in the late 1940's. Sorry if something you're looking for doesn't show up - it might in part 2 though.
The picture on the right shows Koga when he entered Meiji.
Alright, let's begin with some background information. Koga was born on 18th November 1904 and his real name 古賀正夫 was the same as his stage name, with only a slight change in the third kanji character. He hailed from a village by the name of Taguchi Mura, now known as Ohkawa city, in Fukuoka. After the death of his father, Koga moved to Korea where his brother worked and spent most of his adolescence there. In that period of time, he got acquainted with the taishogoto, or the Nagoya harp, as well as the instrument he was often associated with, the mandolin.
In 1923, Koga returned to Japan and attended Meiji University, where he joined the school's mandolin club (明治大学マンドリン倶楽部). However, a few years later in 1928, it seemed like he hit quite a rough patch as he actually planned to kill himself at an onsen town in Miyagi. Fortunately, after being inspired by watching the sun setting in Zao, he decided to release his frustrations in a less morbid way by creating his first piece of music, "Kage wo Shitai te" (影を慕いて) - I can now see why this song is so depressing.
Sato's version.
In 1929, he would play "Kage wo Shitai te" at one of the mandolin club's performances and caught the attention of a popular singer at the time, Chiyako Sato (佐藤千夜子). As a result, she recorded the song a year later in 1931 with Koga, then using his real name, on the mandolin and guitar. It did not sell very well, but this marked the start of Koga's path as a composer. Once he graduated from Meiji in 1931, Koga went to Nippon Colombia Records, which from what I've been seeing was the record company back then, in hopes of being a regular employee under the company's literary section due to not having confidence in his songwriting abilities. But he got signed on as a contract composer instead. From there on out, by collaborating with prolific lyricists and the early showa era's shining stars, multiple hits that are still being remembered today were spawned.
At the moment, I am able to pick out two of Koga's distinctive songwriting styles, the first of which is what I call the quintessential Koga Melody where you can hear the eerie notes of the mandolin clearly in the midst of a brooding score. The other was a bit difficult for me to pick out and it's not really guaranteed that having these traits in the music means they were made by the man himself, but when Koga creates jolly tunes they seem to have a very festive, exuberant, and light quality, and I tend to hear crashing cymbals in the background from time to time. With that being said, I shall go on to talk about the songs that brought him fame and status.
One of Koga's frequent collaborators was the classically trained Ichiro Fujiyama (藤山一郎), who had encountered the new composer when he was still in music school (Tokyo Music School). "Oka wo Koete" (丘を越えて), "Sake wa Namida ka Tameiki ka" (酒は涙か溜息か), and "Aoi Sebiro de" (青い背広で) are just some of the Koga-composed works from Mr. Fujiyama's (it's my nickname for him) discography, but I think their most successful hit was "Tokyo Rhapsody" (東京ラプソディ) from 1936. As I had mentioned not too long ago, this optimistic tune about the wonders of Tokyo is quite the ear worm. If I'm not mistaken, Koga came up with the melody to "Tokyo Rhapsody" with the idea of exploring the metropolis by car, where one drives around and gets to take in the sights and sounds of the different parts of the city. Perhaps those in the car are new to the bustling city, which would explain the excitement conveyed. Fujiyama had also recorded his version of "Kage wo Shitai te" in 1932 which then became successful and probably became the de facto version of it.
Another artiste whom I always see having mustachioed composer's name pop up when the title flashes on screen is Noboru Kirishima (霧島昇), who was quite the contrast to the almost constantly grinning Mr. Fujiyama. Kirishima's Koga-collaborations included "Reijin no Uta" (麗人の歌) and "Shin Tsuma Kagami (?)" (新妻鏡), which was a duet with Akiko Futaba (二葉あき子), but they seemed to be most well-known for "Dare ka Furusato wo Omowazu" (誰か故郷を想わざる). Koga had written this bokyo tune from 1940 with the equally renowned Saijo Yaso (西條八十) after he returned from a cross-cultural sharing program of sorts in the US. It's got a rather jaunty melody to it to accompany the premises of a fellow far away from home fondly reminiscing the good times spent in his village hometown. Not surprisingly, it was very well received by soldiers at war at the time who could relate. Koga had drawn inspiration for "Dare ka Furusato wo Omowazu" from his time at his own hometown in Fukuoka.
Going a bit on a tangent to give you some trivia I uncovered not too long ago since I have mentioned Yaso: The Lyricist Award at the Japan Record Awards were known as the Yaso Saijo Award at one period of time. I found it nice that they named that award after the songwriter - it was a good way to honor him. On another note, Koga and Ryoichi Hattori (服部良一) were the ones who started the Japan Composer's Association (日本作曲家協会).
Alright, moving on. The two contributions Koga made for Mr. Fujiyama and Kirishima that I shared were showcased his livelier side, so the next few tunes will bring the spotlight on to the melancholic side, which he was probably most noted for.
Koga's own life experience played another role in the making of "Jinsei no Namikimichi" (人生の並木路), sung by actor and jazz singer Dick Mine (ディック・ミネ) in 1937. Early in the article, I mentioned about Koga's move to Korea after his father had passed on - well, the songwriter had translated the suffering and pain he felt at that time to a melody for this bleak song about a pair of siblings having to support each other away from home. The reason for the siblings' departure from home didn't seem to be specified in Sonosuke Sato's (佐藤惣之助) lyrics, but it does remind me of the Studio Ghibli film "Grave of the Fireflies".
Up next is a piece that, to me, is the definition of Masao Koga: "Jinsei Gekijo" (人生劇場). While the original take was recorded by Shigeo Kusunoki (楠木繁夫) in 1938, whose version I have put up, it was made popular by Hideo Murata (村田英雄) in 1959. This was where I got to know Koga's typical unnerving musical styling - especially in Murata's version where the use of the mandolin is obvious.
Although actor and movie director Toshiro Omi's (近江俊郎) hit "Yu no Machi no Elegy" (湯の町エレジー) is more about pining for love lost at an onsen town, I can't help but wonder if the wistfulness in the music from this 1948 hit was influenced by that incident Koga went through two decades ago. The melody of "Yu no Machi no Elegy" also focuses on the acoustic guitar rather than the mandolin, and that brings to mind similarly melancholic compositions from Toru Funamura (船村徹) years later. Y'know, I never really liked this song for the longest time, but with the number of times I have been listening to it over and over again recently on my own accord and while writing this section, I'm quite glad to say that it has grown on me... unfortunately that means "Izu no yama yama..." will be stuck in my head for the weeks to come.
Now that I've covered the more depressing works from early in Koga's career, I would like to end off this first segment of my tribute to the great songwriter on a silly note with "Uchi no Nyobo nya Hige ga aru" (うちの女房にゃ髭がある). Yep, Koga created comical stuff too, even for something titled "My Wife Has a Mustache". This aMAzing song was the theme song to the movie of the same name starring Kyouji Sugi (杉狂児) that featured a timid salary man who is ruled by his wife. It's a happy-go-lucky tune that amusingly undermines the guy's fear of his wife - he's clearly bothered by her facial hair (probably grown after they got hitched and he's got no where to run), but is beyond terrified of telling her and facing the consequences, as you can hear from Sugi's stammering when the wife, played by Geisha singer Yakko Michi (美ち奴), confronts him. Man, I would love to hear Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) version of this. Speaking of Michi, Koga had also created a successful song for her called "Ah, Sore nanoni" (あゝそれなのに) for the same movie.
Sudden epiphany from 16/11/17: Although I find that it might be unlikely that "Uchi no Nyobo nya Hige ga aru" might have a deeper meaning as it was meant for a comedy, I just realised that what if the wife having a mustache is another figurative way for saying that she runs the house? It could be a twist on the saying "The one who wears the pants in the household", just that instead of pants it's having a mustache. I mean, madame here could may as well have a solid handlebar too while wearing the pants (mustache).
Okay, that's all for this half. I hope you've enjoyed this so far and would look forward to Part 2.
P.S. I would love to have a T-shirt with that caricature of him in this photo.
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