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.
Back in September this year, I posted an APB for Neff for a group of Chinese-language covers of Japanese and Western songs. Basically, the mystery was solved and that included the final song of the compilation whose original version was "Tabi ni Detai" (I Want to Go on a Trip). What I hadn't realized at the time was that I had already written about it through Kyo Nishimura's（西村協）1982 cover of the song. I did realize that the windmills of my mind were getting a little tattered.
Mind you, although I did give my brief two cents' worth of the original song by folk singer-songwriter Masamitsu Tayama（田山雅充）and another cover version in the aftermath of the APB, I figured that both should get their own article so I've got them both here. Starting with Tayama's "Tabi ni Detai" which was the final track of his May 1977 album"Kouyou"（紅葉...Autumn Colours）, it's a truly folksy introspective number with that acoustic guitar as Tayama sings about taking those close to him to pleasant places outside the city such as that tiny seaside town or a small forested hill, thanks to Tsuzuru Nakasato's（中里綴）lyrics.
In January 1978, the late Yoko Kishi（岸洋子）released her cover version of "Tabi ni Detai" as her 14th single. This version has a more conventional kayo arrangement including those silky strings and what sounds like a harpsichord.
Well, I guess I'm making my way around the spy-fi theme tunes. There's the cool theme for "Mission: Impossible" by Lalo Schifrin and then Monty Norman & John Barry's iconic theme for James Bond. Both franchises I have known since I was a kid and one other similar example of spy drama and adventure that I got to know early in life was "The Man from U.N.C.L.E."(1964-1968) with Robert Vaughan and David McCallum.
The main scene that I've always remembered is the opening when some assassin in shadow bounces out with his gun and tries to shoot down another silhouetted figure but only manages to hit a shield before the agency's best agent, Napoleon Solo, comes out of his own shadow and threateningly shows what he can do with a weapon. All this was done to a dangerous snappy snare drum and timpani combo.
Then comes the theme by Jerry Goldsmith. I knew this guy was prolific but I had no idea that he was responsible for this one and many others, along with the theme for "Star Trek: The Motion Picture" years later. But to be honest, I really didn't get a bead on the "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." theme unlike the themes for 007 and "Mission: Impossible" until years later. Now that I have though, I prefer the original from the first season with the continuation of the percussion and the horn section reflecting the heroic and global organization.
Unfortunately, I don't remember much of the episodes throughout the four-season run of the series (there was one scene where Ilya fell into a vat of goop) but I read that the tone varied wildly from season to season which didn't do much for its fortunes. The first season has apparently been seen as the best one due to its straight and serious nature with succeeding seasons getting campier, and I gather that the variations on the theme also reflected this. The second season theme got jazzier in a beatnik way although the timpani returned on occasion.
The third season (and I'm assuming the final season afterwards) had a theme that just went full go-go boots and so I'm not a huge fan of that arrangement.
Some years ago, some enterprising person came up with their own fantasy opening credit sequence for an UNCLE movie starring George Clooney and Orlando Bloom which was quite well done (regrettably, it seems to have been pulled off of YouTube) and the version of the theme song was actually quite good.
Just from good luck, I managed to track it down as the first song of a medley on a compilation called "The Film Music of Jerry Goldsmith" with Goldsmith as the conductor leading the London Symphony Orchestra. Yep, as some commenters have intimated, Goldsmith was probably a better composer than a conductor here, the cues aren't too sharp, the medley at least sounds as if it had been recorded in Carlsbad Caverns, and frankly the cover of the album looks perfect as something to be found in a Wal-Mart bargain basement basket. However, I think this version is just a few rehearsals and tweaks away from being a really nice take on the UNCLE theme song thanks to the thrilling strings and percussion for a contemporary motion picture reboot.
Ah, speaking of which...the 2015 film of "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." was entertaining enough with Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer, but I do wish that the original theme had been brought in.
So, when the original show premiered in September 1964, what were some singles coming out in Japan at around that time?
About a week ago, I heard that veteran Canadian actor Donald Sutherland, born in New Brunswick and trained at the University of Toronto, passed away last week at the age of 88. I've known him for his huge presence, that wide-as-a-mile Cheshire Cat grin and that distinct voice which reminded me of a slow-burning crackling fire.
I remember seeing him as the youngest member of "The Dirty Dozen" and then as one of the many doomed characters on the 1978 remake of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers". Of course, in recent years, Sutherland gained a new generation of fans for his portrayal of President Snow in "The Hunger Games" franchise. Still one other cackling evil role he had that still pops up in my memories whenever the actor's name is mentioned is the one for homicidal pyromaniac Ronald Bartel in "Backdraft": child-like and axe-crazy.
One other movie that I associate Sutherland with is the original movie version of the war comedy "M*A*S*H". For years and years, I had been accustomed to watching the CBS adaptation on TV on Monday nights and then reruns with Alan Alda as the snarky surgeon Captain Hawkeye Pierce and his buddies. At the time, I'd only remembered that there had been a movie version with the famous poster of a peace sign-giving hand under an army helmet and over a couple of woman's legs.
Then, I finally got to see the 1970 movie by Robert Altman on telly one night and got to see Sutherland's original take on Hawkeye. It was a bit weird seeing not only these familiar roles such as Pierce, Trapper John, Frank Burns, Father Mulcahy and Hot Lips being played by different thespians (although always-dependable Radar O'Reilly was played by Gary Burghoff in both the movie and television show) but getting this very rough-and-ready version of the M*A*S*H 4077. If anything, Sutherland's Hawkeye was even more flippant with a sense of a slithery demeanor, and it's far better having him as your friend and not your enemy.
Though the TV show gradually changed from a sitcom with dramatic elements to a drama with comedic elements through its eleven seasons (with the cast changes, to boot), the one thing that basically stayed constant (other than a few scenes here and there) was the opening credits with the famous instrumental theme song. I would always see the choppers bringing patients into the 4077, the overhead shot of the hospital, and the doctors and nurses rushing to triage them and have them go through the best of their meatball surgery. Meanwhile, the theme song was about as far from being a brass march that one could get for a show based in the middle of the Korean War.
But then when I did watch the original movie, I was surprised to find out that the theme song actually had a title, "Suicide is Painless" and lyrics that were sung by an uncredited foursome: John Bahler, Tom Bahler, Ron Hicklin, and Ian Freebairn-Smith. With harmonies reminiscent of the Beach Boys and a wistful and slightly mournful melody by Johnny Mandel and Mike Altman, I realized that the theme back then was a hymn of sorts for the futility of war and the price paid in body counts, something that didn't quite translate to the weekly instrumental version in the TV series, especially when it was given the cheery arrangement during the ending credits.
Interestingly, "Suicide is Painless" was also released in Japan as a single with the title "Moshi mo, Ano Yo ni Yuketara"（もしも、あの世にゆけたら...If I Could Go to the Afterlife） in March 1970, just a couple of months following the movie's release. As for my even more personal connection to the song, our junior high school band regularly performed the song during concerts. It was getting to the point that "Suicide is Painless" was actually painful.
My condolences to Sutherland's family, friends and many fans.
Now, what had won the Best Performance prizes at the Japan Record Awards in 1970?
Glad to see that NHK's "Shin Nihon BS no Uta"（新日本BSの歌...Songs of Japanese Spirit）kayo kyoku program is returning to a more convenient hour for the first time since the new Jme regime began on April 1st. It should be coming on within an hour of this writing. Speaking of the program, I saw an old rerun of it a few weeks ago in which enka veteran Sachiko Kobayashi（小林幸子）sang this rather melancholy yet beautifully arranged kayo that I hadn't heard before.
The song's title, "Kibou"(Hope), was easy enough to remember. It seemed a bit outside of what Kobayashi usually has sung so I did assume that the original version had been sung by another singer. Sure enough, it turns out that "Kibou" had been created by composer Taku Izumi（いずみたく）and lyricist Toshio Fujita（藤田敏雄）in the late 1960s for a musical starring actress/singer Chieko Baisho（倍書千恵子）. The song seems to have had an overarching presence in the play which would have had it going for around 6 1/2 minutes so its adaptation into a single back in those days was impossible. Folk group Four Saints（フォー・セインツ）did record a 1969 single of it in the 4-minute range, though, which scored a No. 26 ranking.
However, the most acclaimed version of "Kibou" seems to have been the one by Yoko Kishi（岸洋子）when it was released in April 1970. Arranged by Makoto Kawaguchi（川口真）, the ballad here is a mix of sad kayo and chanson as Kishi sings about a woman who ends up leaving not only her town but what turned out to be the love of her life and has regretted it ever since. Whether or not she's successful, she clings onto that titular hope that she will meet her former flame and make up for lost time. The above "Big Show" performance from 1974 is stressing the more chanson elements.
The story in the lyrics aside, I think Kishi's version of the song has probably had even more meaning for her and her fans. Yes, it did score a No. 2 ranking on Oricon and ended up as the No. 12 song of the year, selling more half a million records and earning her a performance award at the Japan Record Awards at the end of 1970. At the same time, though, she'd also been hospitalized due to a serious disease and so what probably had been a sure appearance on NHK's Kohaku Utagassen had to be cancelled. The hope this time was for Kishi to recover and happily she did recover so that she was able to appear on the 1971 Kohaku which would be her final appearance on the program, after a total of seven such appearances.
The above is the folksier earlier version of "Kibou" by Four Saints.
Welcome to the weekly Reminiscings of Youth where I present some of the memorable non-kayo kyoku songs of my childhood, youth and perhaps young adulthood. This week, we're going back into the 007 file which has gotten three entries thus far and today is No.4 which involves the third entry in the franchise, the 1964 "Goldfinger".
First off, let me say that I still have a great love for the first two movies, "Dr. No" and "From Russia With Love", but it's been said that with "Goldfinger", the James Bond movie formula was finally realized. The romancing and the coolness/dark humour of Bond were always there but from this movie, we finally got to see the secret gadgets, the testy exchanges between Q and Bond, and a villain that cast his dark shadow throughout the entire movie.
Plus, we got the first sung Bond song in the opening credit sequence, a nifty one with some of the scenes of what we were going to view projected onto a model painted in gold. According to the Wikipedia article for the song, the theme went through some sturm und drang among the production folks but for everyone paying for the experience, Shirley Bassey hit it out of the park and it's been the gold standard (no pun intended) for all of the Bond themes to follow.
Written and composed by John Barry, Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse, the song had all of what a 007 movie needed: class, swagger, intrigue and danger. And when I finally got to see the movie on ABC (until Roger Moore's final appearance as 007, "A View to a Kill", I'd never seen a Bond flick on the big screen), I enjoyed hearing the thrilling orchestral reprise of the theme in certain key scenes. The song extended Auric's already hefty presence even further.
Once again according to the Wikipedia article, the theme managed to sell over a million records in the United States, hitting No. 8 on Billboard, and reaching the Top 10 in a number of European nations. It even hit No. 1 in Japan.
This week's Reminiscings of Youth article is on another song that actually came before my time, but not by much, and it was with me all throughout my childhood and adolescence.
I am talking about "The Girl From Ipanema" which was originally released in May 1964, so it's been 57 years this month that we've gotten to know about this bossa nova classic that has gone into many a music collection, an elevator, a supermarket and even a telephone on hold. I've actually written on "The Girl From Ipanema" before through Lisa Ono's（小野リサ）cover of the song, and I'll just repeat the last paragraph from that article here to give you my personal connection with it:
I guess I have a soft spot for that girl from Ipanema since the bossa ballad by Antonio Carlos Jobim was one of the first songs that I remember hearing as a toddler. As far as I know, I don't think my father had the record as part of his collection but it was a tune that I heard quite frequently on radio and TV. Years later, it was required playing during my lone year of band class back in high school although I didn't quite have the appreciation for it that I do now (playing off-tune renditions of it on an old clarinet can take the buzz off). Realizing that the song has become possibly so ubiquitous to the point of kitsch, I think if "The Girl From Ipanema" is given its due respect, it can still be that wonderfully cooling song from 1964.
One wrong assumption that I'd had about "The Girl From Ipanema" is that this was Astrud Gilberto's song alone. Of course, it wasn't. Antonio Carlos Jobim, was the composer with Vinicius de Moraes being responsible for the Portuguese lyrics while Normal Gimbel provided the English lyrics. And then, João Gilberto, the man who has been considered the father of bossa nova, sang the Portuguese part of the song with his then-wife Astrud singing the English portion and legendary saxophonist Stan Getz adding his mellow tones.
Another wrong assumption was that The Girl was merely fictional but actually "The Girl From Ipanema" was inspired by a real teenager, then known as Heloísa Eneida Menezes Paes Pinto, who had been living in the tony district of Ipanema in Rio de Janeiro. I can't help but make comparisons with Helen of Troy who launched a thousand ships. I guess in this case, Heloisa of Ipanema launched a million LPs.
The accolades are all there in the Wikipedia writeup on the song, but "The Girl From Ipanema" was a global hit, reaching No. 5 on both the American and Canadian charts, and it was Record of the Year at the Grammy Awards that year. According to an article in the "Wall Street Journal", it's also apparently "...the second most recorded pop song in history, after "Yesterday" by The Beatles."
But of course, as much as "The Girl From Ipanema" has become this beloved mainstay of bossa nova, it's also been the go-to example for the dreaded Muzak of elevators and shopping malls. Personally, I don't recall ever hearing the song in an elevator, store or even as a song to be played while I've been put on hold, but it's gotten plenty of exposure in such places in movies and TV shows such as "The Blues Brothers" above. Maybe the whole thing about this song and Muzak is just how soothing and harmless it is. That's cool with me, though, as the original will always remain a staple in my musical memories.
Now, as for what was happening in Japan in music during that year, Oricon didn't exist in 1964 and the site "Showa Pops" doesn't go back beyond 1965 so my usual sources won't be of any help here. However, I did find out that Hachiro Izawa's（井沢八郎）classic kayo "Ahh, Ueno Eki"（あゝ上野駅）was released in the same month as "The Girl From Ipanema".
Otherwise, there are some of the prize winners from the 6th annual Japan Record Awards from 1964.
Best Singing Performance: Yoko Kishi -- Yoake no Uta （夜明けのうた）
Taking things back in time a number of decades to 1965. Here I have some chanson in the form of Yoko Kishi's（岸洋子）"Koigokoro". I first introduced Kishi on the pages of KKP through her 1964 single, "Yoake no Uta"（夜明けのうた）and she shared the chanson stage with Fubuki Koshiji（越路吹雪）.
Kishi's "Koigokoro" is a Japanese cover of the original 1964 "L'amour, C'est pour rien" by Algerian-French singer Enrico Macias, with Fumio Nagata（永田文夫）providing the Japanese lyrics. It's quite the intimate tango as lushly sung by Kishi, thanks to that lonely guitar although the trilling flute and the strings lighten the mood a bit. I'm thinking basement French restaurant with plenty of atmosphere here.
I was watching a televised kayo charity concert on NHK which took place in Saitama recently, and there were the usual enka performances and a surprise entry by Yoko Takahashi performing the theme song from the anime "Evangelion" among others. But then one singer appeared and he did a wonderful Nat King Cole-ish version of an old kayo kyoku from decades back. "Yoake no Uta"(Dawn Song), as sung by this singer, reminded me so much of Cole's legendary "Stardust" that I had to dig this one up from the Net and check it out further.
My parents kept talking of Yoko Kishi （岸洋子）while I saw Kyu Sakamoto's （坂本九）name on the screen as "Yoake no Uta" was being performed, so I had plenty of information to track it down. The song first saw life in September 1964 after being written by the recently departed Tokiko Iwatani (岩谷時子...passed away last year at the age of 97) and composed by Taku Izumi（いずみたく）. Kishi, who was born in Yamanashi Prefecture in 1935, had originally tried to become an opera singer only to have her dream dashed due to illness. However, from a chance listening to an Edith Piaf album while in hospital, she steered her ambitions into chanson, debuting in 1962.
But then came "Yoake no Uta" in 1964, and although the song wasn't a definite example of chanson, I think Kishi brought in the proud and grand elements of the genre into it. And as a result, it became one of her most well-known entries in her discography. She won a Grand Prize at the Japan Music Awards that year and was invited for the first time onto the Kohaku Utagassen with another appearance 5 years later. The above link shows that 1969 performance.
Sadly, Kishi passed away at the age of 57 in 1992. However, her connection with the song has lived on through Sakata Station on the JR Uetsu Main Line in her hometown of Sakata with it being played as the train arrival melody.
(Sorry but the video has been taken down.)
The great Kyu Sakamoto provided his own version of "Yoake no Uta" as a single released just a month after Kishi's original. His take on the song had more of a Big Band, bluesy jazz flavour which suited the Sakamoto style. It was sung as the theme for a drama that Sakamoto had starred in at the time, "Boya"（ぼうや...Boy）.
"Yoake no Uta" has also been performed by various singers over the decades from genres ranging from enka to rock. Yujiro Ishihara and Ringo Shiina are just some of the artists who have given their own spin to this very malleable Japanese standard.
But the one version that surprised me was the one sung by Dionne ("Do You Know The Way To San Jose?") Warwick. Titled "I Sing At Dawn", Warwick made a wonderful ballad that reminded me of some of the mellower songs that her cousin, Whitney Houston, provided back in the 80s. Her version was in her 1993 album, "Friends Can Be Lovers".
