Haruo Minami -- Otone Mujou (大利根無情)

"Y'know although I'm not that much of a Haruo Minami fan..."

Apparently, I said that on 20th September 2014 in my first article about Haruo Minami (三波春夫) on KKP. Oh, 2014 Noelle, that about aged as well as your initial opinion on Katsuhiko Haida. Well, maybe not nearly as extreme. Then again, the only one whom my opinion for has barely changed since day one is Yoshio Tabata. 

I wanted to do another Haru san appreciation post today since it's his 100th birthday today (19th July) and I'm all for being a little extra with the festivities. I featured an entry in his biggest chohen kayo-rokyoku project in my previous post, so this time, I thought I'd go a little further back in time before he went big on the concept of this fusion between modern and traditional. We'll go back to what seemed like its nascent stage via "Otone Mujou", which was also the very tune I featured in the aforementioned piece.

Since this article will also be heavy on my nostalgia, I had to put up the video performance of Minami I came across nine years ago that served as my introduction to him. It was from a music program "Big Show" (ビッグショー) from 1976 and it will always be the definitive version of "Otone Mujou" to my eyes and ears. The arrangement of Yoshiji Nagatsu's (長津義司) musical composition here is nice and full without being too rushed, making it menacing enough to match the older Minami's more forceful portrayals of the story's characters. 

On the note of story, we bear witness to the tragic tale of Miki Hirate (平手造酒). Based on the actual historical figure Mikame Hirata (平田三亀) and a character in the novel "Tenpo Suikoden" (天保水滸伝... Tenpo Water Margin), Hirate is often featured in the likes of rokyoku and enka. Recognized for toting around a large pot of sake and clad in black, the once talented swordsman under the Shusaku Chiba (千葉周作) dojo got thrown out due to his alcoholism and terrible behaviour, according to Kozo Futatsugi (二木紘三) in this article. After, he was a drifting drunkard before settling under the yakuza Shigezo Sasagawa (笹川の繁蔵), further damaging his reputation. He eventually met a gory death in a turf war between Sasagawa's and his rival's gang along the Tone river, but not before cutting down a few victims of his own (a highlight in the "Tenpo Suikoden").  

The original rendition

I'm still not as familiar with the nitty-gritty details of the tale (because it's A LOT), but Ryo Inomata (猪又良) seemed to have summarized Hirate's downward spiral within the three stanzas. Haru san temporarily stepping into the roles of secondary characters (I'm not sure who they are) in between does also seem to mark the story's focal points too: The first as one who mocks Hirate for serving a yakuza, the second as one who warns one called another to not underestimate Hirate. These interludes make "Otone Mujou" ever more foreboding, emphasized by Haru san's sinister and explosive deliveries. 

Speaking of Haru san's character portrayals, I love the later-day re-recordings and that 1976 live performance where the flamboyant singer cranks up the drama by screaming like a mad man before going about business as smiley usual. It was exactly how he captured my attention back when "I [was] not that much of a Haruo Minami fan". But the original 1959 version with a much more reserved Minami does have its merits too. The first interlude in particular made my skin crawl as he did that creepy villain laugh. 10/10 Haru san. Man, imagine him reading a bedtime story or doing a poetry reading. It'd be fire.

All that said, while I enjoy it, I'd say that I now wouldn't consider "Otone Mujou" within my top favourite Haru san works (2034 Noelle may fight me on this). But it will always have a special place in my heart as the first Minami song I listened to and the first time I was floored by such a riveting performance by a singer. 

To round this off this Haru san appreciation-nostalgia piece, I think a little Mrs. Minami (Yukiko Kitazume (北詰由起子)) appreciation is in order as well. After all, it was the both of them who made our Haruo Minami possible. It's pretty widely known that Mrs. M was the one behind that iconic kimono-wearing image, but as his feisty long-time manager, she also had a strong influence over her husband's work ethic and his performance displays. By that I mean that she often takes the wheel and they'd often butt heads, with Haru san usually being the one giving in. But, to her credit, she was also a talented and accomplished performer who did pretty much anything from shamisen to manzai before she married him, and her direction did garner resounding results. From the books, she seemed like quite a fun, albeit terrifying character, and I'm ever grateful for her efforts.

I forgot where I found this picture, but it's adorable :')

Again, happy 100th, Haru san! :D

Yoshio Tabata/Hachiro Kasuga -- Furusato no Toudai（ふるさとの燈台）

 

Heard this one last weekend on NHK's "Songs of Japanese Spirit" and I later found out that the original version of this song was by the late great Yoshio Tabata（田端義夫）.

I think this particular version up here is a later "Furusato no Toudai" (The Lighthouse of Home), I wasn't able to find the original recording which was released in July 1953. Still, Tabata and his characteristic guitar give an emotional performance about memories of the old hometown and the family by the ocean with the titular lighthouse as the main landmark. It would have been nice to have compared this version which sounds so epic and clean with the original take. My impression is that the original would have sounded more rustic and closer to that home because of the arrangements back then and of course the age of the record itself. 

Tabata had a couple of old colleagues help him out here. Lyricist Minoru Shimizu（清水みのる）, who had written "Shima no Funauta"（島の船唄）for him in 1939, and composer Yoshiji Nagatsu (長津義司), who had come up with the melody for Tabata's "Otone Tsukiyo" (大利根月夜) in that same year, joined forces to help create "Furusato no Toudai".

Some two decades later in 1973, Hachiro Kasuga（春日八郎）covered "Furusato no Toudai" in his own venerable voice for his album "Kasuga Hachiro Enka Hyakusen"（春日八郎 演歌百選...Hachiro Kasuga's Enka Selections）. After listening to this cover and Tabata's version, I found that both were fine renditions but I'll leave the comparisons to any discussion between myself and Noelle Tham, who I believe is the resident expert at KKP on all things Tabata and Kasuga. 😉

Haruo Minami -- Tokyo Gorin Odori （東京五輪おどり）

Hard to believe that almost 4 years ago, I wrote about Haruo Minami's（三波春夫）"Tokyo Gorin Ondo"（東京五輪音頭）just when it was announced that Tokyo was indeed getting the 2020 Olympics. Well, last week, it was announced that an updated version of the song will be the official song for the Tokyo Games. No surprise, there...I was fully expecting that it would be used in some capacity at the Opening Ceremonies. With "Tokyo Gorin Ondo" as the official song, there would be no worries about tracking down hotshots from the recording industry to craft a new tune, and the 1963 song is overflowing with Japanese culture. Plus, it's festival season in Japan in the summer so it works in that sense, too.

As for those who might be disappointed in the decision, there will be other more contemporary songs being put out at the Opening Ceremonies, and I'm positive that each of the TV stations will have its own Olympics theme songs up and ready. Personally, I would still love to hear Yellow Magic Orchestra get together for one more go at "Rydeen" in the new arena or if Sakamoto and Hosono are not physically up to it by that time, maybe Yukihiro Takahashi and METAFIVE can take over. Just a thought💖.

"Tokyo Gorin Ondo" is already up here so to commemorate its status as official song, why not talk about the B-side? That would be "Tokyo Gorin Odori" (Tokyo Olympic Dance) which was written by Jun Kobayashi（小林潤）and composed by Yoshiji Nagatsu（長津義司）, the same fellow who came up with another Minami chestnut, "Chanchiki Okesa"（チャンチキおけさ）all the way back in 1957.

Now, frankly speaking, the two songs "Tokyo Gorin Ondo" and "Tokyo Gorin Odori" are different but still quite similar in arrangement, and I cannot tell you the difference between an ondo and an odori. I know the latter means "dance", but the ondo also invites dancing. Perhaps the difference lies in the rhythm, but perhaps my two friends in the Japanese dance community, Laura and Aja, can set me straight on this question if they read the article.

In any case, going through the record's liner, I found out that "Tokyo Gorin Odori" had been produced for the Tokyo Haha-no-Kai Rengokai（東京母の会連合会...The Tokyo Federation of Mothers' Associations）, and it's a similarly festive number by Minami. The liner even has illustrations on how to dance to both songs, and you can see the one demonstration for "Odori" above. I also found out that the original 45" cost all of 290 yen!

I didn't realize that the video I had brought in for "Tokyo Gorin Ondo" also contained the B-side at 3:55 so you can hear the original here as well. One wonders whether there will be similar instructions to dance at the Opening Ceremonies. Still, I can only imagine that Minami who passed away in 2001 may be looking down at Tokyo quite happily to see one of his famous hits being brought back again for another Olympics.

As a PS, apparently Teichiku Records decided to have the Vocaloid people come up with their own version of Haruo Minami, known as Haruo-roid Minami（ハルオロイド・ミナミ）last year. So, it was a foregone conclusion for "Tokyo Gorin Ondo" to be performed.

Haruo Minami/Aya Shimazu/Keisuke Yamauchi -- Tawaraboshi Genba (俵星玄蕃)

Ever since encountering "Jan Naito Jan" (ジャン・ナイト・じゃん), I have always been marveling about how incredible Haruo Minami's (三波春夫) rapping ability was. However, I discovered that in the genre he's known for, rokyoku, there's rapid-fire narration, and I found that out through listening to "Tawaraboshi Genba" in its entirety. The veteran's delivery of this lengthy bit was incredibly fast yet articulate, and so that made me realise, in a sense he was technically rapping even before he decided to deviate a little from enka, and "Jan Naito Jan" was probably a piece of cake for him compared to his iconic hit decades before.

Here's "Jan Naito Jan" for reference.

To give some background info on "Tawaraboshi Genba" or "Genroku Mei Sofu Tawaraboshi Genba (元禄名槍譜 俵星玄蕃): It isn't your typical kayo-rokyoku. It falls under the category of Chouhen Kayo-Rokyoku (長編歌謡浪曲... long kayo-rokyoku). Creating this sub-genre was Minami himself who sought to revive this narrative style of singing that seemed to be dying by the end of WWII. A rokyoku song is usually quite a long one, and from what I've tried to watch (not very much, really) it can be rather draggy/boring. So, what Minami did was to condense a rokyoku story into a (comparatively) short and sweet package combined with enka-yo to make it more appealing to audiences that can be easily bored (like me). The narrative that was shortened here is Chushingura (忠臣蔵... The Treasury of Loyal Retainers), which refers to fictional tale that revolves around the Forty-seven Ronin's plot to avenge their master's death - the real historical event is called the Ako Incident. Minami had penned this rendition under his pen name Touji Kitamura (北村桃児).

60's Minami... don't get to see that all that often, now that I think of it.

Anyway, due to its length "Tawaraboshi Genba" isn't a tune I listen to all that much - also because my Minami compilation album doesn't have it. But recently I have developed a lot more appreciation for this kayo-rokyoku. The music, brought to you by renowned showa era composer, Yoshiji Nagatsu (長津義司), sounded like three different enka melded into one. It starts off noble - a little like "Yawara" (柔), then dips into something like a slightly jauntier version of "Otone Mujou" (大利根無情), after which the score picks up to become something akin to a crazier, faster paced "Ippon Doko no Uta" (いっぽんどっこの唄), before finally ending on that grand note it began with. 

We also have Minami's delivery - by far my favourite part of "Tawaraboshi Genba" - which was as much of a roller coaster ride as the accompanying melody. As in "Otone Mujou", the fun comes when the expressions of the rokyoku master change fluidly like the face-changing characters in Chinese operas. One moment he's his usual beaming self that welcomes all with his chirpy vocals, the next his eyes have a murderous glint and he's screaming like a mad man and ruffling that neatly gelled back hair. Of course, there's also that intense "rapping" session - kinda sounds like chanting - I mentioned at the start of the article, so on a whole, "Tawaraboshi Genba" turned out to be more entertaining to me that what I had originally assumed.

"Tawaraboshi Genba" was released a number of times, most notably in April 1964 (original release) and in October 1992, the latter of which was actually a self cover rap mix with... an easy-going reggae version of "Sekai no Kuni kara Konnichiwa" (世界の国からこんにちは). Minami had sung the original twice on the Kohaku, the first being during his 7th appearance in 1964 and the second during his 31st and last appearance in 1999. Since it is a long song of about almost 9 minutes (about two/three normal enka songs long), most of the rokyoku portion was cut out when it was sung on TV due to time constraints.

A number of enka performers have attempted this kayo-rokyoku, and the ones I tend to see a lot are those by Aya Shimazu (島津亜矢) and Keisuke Yamauchi (山内惠介). Both are respectable but I have to say that Shimazu manages to convey the high intensity of "Tawaraboshi Genba" better than Yamauchi does.

(Sorry but the video has been taken down.)

That's one apt pic of Minami right there!

blogs.yahoo.co.jp/kabukimedakabenkei/folder/606860.html?m=lc

Yoshio Tabata -- Genkai Blues (玄海ブルース)

Ah, I'm back in my comfort zone. Ain't nothing like Yoshio Tabata's (田端義夫) plucking away at the electric guitar strapped to his chest.

For the last half of January and the first half of February it has been quite blustery and wet and overcast here in Singapore (was only the first of the 3 today). Not that I'm complaining though as I enjoy these short periods of time where I'm able to walk to school from the train station without breaking a sweat at the cost of getting rained on, but hey, I'd rather that. So I tried to think of a tune that revolves around windy and rainy weather... The only thing that came to mind was this sentence "Arashi fuki maku Genkai koe te". Initially I thought that would be perfect as "Arashi" means storm, until I played out the rest of song in my head did I realise it came from none other than Batayan's "Genkai Blues" which doesn't have much to do with rain or wind besides this one line in its last stanza. Ah, well.

"Genkai Blues" is one jaunty tune in both its original and modern takes on it with the horns blaring away and the low notes of the electric guitar providing a base, but the scratchy original from 1949 is slower in pace. Listening to it brings the image of Batayan in a sailor's hat as he sits by the water at the docks singing "Genkai Blues" with his trusty black and brown guitar while watching the boats/ships come and go. Yoshiji Nagatsu (長津義司) was the one behind the music - he had worked with Tabata on quite a few of his singles, including "Otone Tsukiyo" (大利根月夜).

I have heard the term "Genkainada" (玄界灘) often in enka, which refers to the Genkai Sea - southwestern tip of the Sea of Japan and borders the northern coasts of Fukuoka and Saga (courtesy of Wikipedia) - so I have an inkling that "Genkai Blues" was about the aforementioned sea. A little more in depth research made me doubt that as searching for "Genkai" came out with other results besides the body of water, including a town of the same name in Saga (and Fukuoka)... which faces the Genkai Sea. Reading Hisao Otaka's (大高ひさを) lyrics, I do believe that the focus of "Genkai Blues" is Genkai town since the sea is only mentioned and the second stanza describes a town scene - bronze lamps, cabaret bars.

Close to what I envisioned, just that I
imagined him in white instead of red.

store.shopping.yahoo.co.jp/ways/12cd-1084

Dang it, this is going to get stuck in my head for a while again.

Yoshio Tabata -- Otone Tsukiyo (大利根月夜)

For the longest time I had wondered who this guy was. Occasionally I'd see him on really old song medleys or a still of him on a video thumbnail, and I must say he was a rather peculiar spectacle with a contorted expression on his face, his electric guitar that never left him and that was way up to his chest. Then I did an article of Takeo Fujishima's (藤島桓夫) "Otsuki-San Konbanwa" (お月さん今晩は) not too long ago that had me digging around for a full version of that song, only then did I find out who Yoshio Tabata (田端義夫) was after encountering his rendition of the haunting, forlorn hit.

The clip above to "Otone Tsukiyo" - I've also seen the title to this song attached to his name countless times - was the first suggestion I saw as I got a taste of and began to appreciate Tabata's delicate vocals during "Otsuki-San Konbanwa", so I thought I'd finally give it a go since the guy doesn't sound half bad.

Looking at the title and the fact that Batayan sung with his eyes barely open, I had thought that "Otone Tsukiyo" was one of those slow, melancholic songs that may either bore or lull me to sleep. Little did I know that it is in fact a jaunty and pretty grand (probably due to the newer, beefed up score) sounding tune about the wandering warriors... Hearing the MC say "San do gasa" (三度笠) which are the straw hats, and this line said by Haruo Minami (三波春夫) as well in his enka-rokyoku hit "Otone Mujou" (大利根無情) during the first monologue, "Ima jya yakuza no yumojinbo" gave me an idea on what "Otone Tsukiyo" is about. I realise a lot of songs with "Otone" in it usually revolve around this particular topic.

"Otone Tsukiyo" was written by Masato Fujita (藤田まさと) and composed by Yoshiji Nagatsu (長津義司), and again because of its newer arrangement, I never thought that this song was Batayan's 2nd single released in 1939! Well, so much for telling Mom that I would stop at the 50's. There have been quite a number of covers for this song, like this powerful one by Madame Hibari Misora (美空ひばり).

"Otone Tsukiyo" is at the 3:20 mark

Just some background info on Tabata: He was born in Mie prefecture in 1919 and was really poor, which was probably why he had trachoma as a boy, making him blind (or lose most of his sight, not entirely sure) in his right eye. When he was 13, he got inspired by the guitar-playing Dick Mine and decided from then on to become like him - a singer and guitarist. Batayan eventually made his debut in 1938 at the age of 19 with "Shima no Funa Uta" (島の船唄). Surprisingly, he had only passed away a couple of years ago in 2013 at the age of 94! Hardly ever see singers like him live to such an old age... they're usually gone by their 70s or 80s.

He's always with his guitar...

amazon.co.jp

Haruo Minami -- Chanchiki Okesa (チャンチキおけさ)

I had wanted to do this immediately after Hideo Murata's (村田英雄) 'Hana to ryu' to round off the 'Sannin no kai' posts with the aforementioned Enka singer's rival, but then the show with Akina Nakamori (中森明菜) came on and I couldn't possibly miss the opportunity of writing a post on an aidoru while I still felt like it... ... Well, but with that done, here's Haruo Minami's (三波春夫) debut hit 'Chanchiki Okesa'.

Officially starting his singing career rather late at the age of 34, Minami struck it big with this song as it sold around an impressive 2.2 million copies. He would then sing it twice on the Kohaku, though only 23 years after the song was released (1957). And he even starred in a movie with the same name in 1958!

'Chanchiki okesa' definitely sounds more jovial and listenable than the somewhat severe Enka-Rokyoku 'Otone Mujou' that came out 2 years later. Though I did end up liking 'Otone mujou' first since it was the first song that introduced me to the pretty much forgotten world of the narrative singing style that is Rokyoku.

But anyway, 'Chanchiki Okesa' actually sounds like something you'd hear at a traditional Japanese festival of some sort and I can just see Minami in a bright kimono dancing around with two paper fans in his hands. This was all composed by Yoshiji Nagatsu (長津義司). As for the lyrics that Showa period lyricist Hachiro Kadoi (門井八郎) wrote, it basically is about the fellow missing his other half as well as his family whom he had left behind in his hometown when he (probably) came over to the big city to find a job. Quite the odd bokyo song, I must say. Hardly ever hear one this upbeat.

Apparently there's a plaque that commemorates this song in Minami's hometown of Nagaoka, Niigata where the bronze statue of him is. Aw man, I have gotta check it out sometime! Y'know after visiting the Hachiro Kasuga (春日八郎) statue and Hideo Murata museum... ...

www.disclegend.com

Haruo Minami -- Otone Mujou (大利根無情)

Y'know although I'm not that much of a Haruo Minami (三波春夫) fan, I always enjoy seeing the Enka and Rokyoku (浪曲) singer on stage. I mean, he just emanated such positive energy! Generally dressed in light colored kimonos, one hand on his hip and last but not least with that trademark radiant smile of his he would be able to brighten up the stage once he came on.

Anyway, 'Otone Mujou' was Minami's 8th single released in 1959, and not only is it an Enka song, but also a Rokyoku song, so there would be some narration in between the singing parts - Rokyoku's a type of traditional Japanese narrative singing. It was written by Ryo Inomata (猪又 良) and composed by Yoshiji Nagatsu (長津義司).

In this song, you would be able to see Minami turn from jovial to no-nonsense at the drop of a hat. Especially so at the last monologue where his narration grew from somewhat gentle, but still filled with savageness to kinda screaming it out with such intensity at the end like some crazy bloke. And you could also see that glint of ferocity mixed with a little insanity in his eyes too. So unlike the usual Minami!

But it was that versatility that intrigued me and got me to continue listening to 'Otone Mujou' even though it's not the type of Enka song - let alone Rokyoku song - I'd usually listen to. In fact, I only discovered this song while listening to Hideo Murata's (村田英雄) 'Osho' (王将). It was in the 'Suggested videos' list, so I thought, "Why not? Since I've not really heard any of Minami's songs." Fine, his graceful movements while narrating was also what caught my attention... well it is pretty cool!

In total, Minami sang 'Otone Mujou' 3 times on the Kohaku. And he had appeared on that event 29 times, putting him at 9th place in 'Most number of Kohaku appearances', which is quite impressive really.

http://www.teichiku.co.jp/teichiku/artist/minami/profile/