Yukiji Asaoka -- Ame ga Yandara（雨がやんだら）

It's been a rather sad time for the geinokai this month. Along with the passing of 70s aidoru Hideki Saijo（西城秀樹）and singer-songwriter-musician Takayuki Inoue（井上堯之）, I received news this morning online that actress-singer Yukiji Asaoka（朝丘雪路）had passed away at the age of 82 last month on April 27th.

As I mentioned for the first article about her, "Furimuite mo Kurenai"（ふり向いてもくれない）, she was a familiar presence on Japanese television for decades who came up through the Takarazuka Troupe. As such, I knew her mostly for those appearances on everything from dramas to quiz shows to online shopping programs, but she did release a number of singles, and she appeared on NHK's Kohaku Utagassen 10 times.

That final time on the Kohaku was at the end of 1971 after an absence from the special for 5 years. And it was for her 4th single "Ame ga Yandara" (When The Rain Stops) which was released in October 1970. This is about as Mood Kayo as one can get with all of that bluesy saxophone and those lyrics by Rei Nakanishi（なかにし礼）about the end of a passionate tryst or one-night stand. The music was provided by veteran composer Kyohei Tsutsumi（筒美京平）, who I now believe could whip up any sort of music for anybody...outside of heavy metal. In fact, "Ame ga Yandara" earned Tsutsumi the Best Composer Prize at the Japan Record Awards. The song peaked at No. 5 on the weekly charts and became the 23rd-ranked single for 1971.

Fantastic Plastic Machine -- Hey Ladies

I heard that there was some sort of wedding today. Apparently, everyone was crazy about Harry and Meghan. Nice folks, but I wasn't willing to wake up at 4 am this morning to catch all of the festivities at Windsor. For the record, I would like to give my best wishes for their sussex...er, I mean success.

Not quite an earworm but it's short and sweet. And it's been about 2.5 years since I put up a song by Fantastic Plastic Machine. This is "Hey Ladies" which came from the 2009 album "FPM", and listening to it and watching the groovy visual interpretation, I got the feeling that Tomoyuki Tanaka（田中知之）basically minced together every old piece of music from a 1960s movie theatre to introduce the feature presentation. Having been raised in my early years to the swinging lounge music of that decade via TV, there is a fun and nostalgic kick to the 2 minutes and 26 seconds.

And here I thought that FPM had kinda gotten away from the Shibuya-kei aesthetic after all those years. Mind you, it's almost been 10 years now since "FPM" came out so I'm kinda wondering what the man has been up to since then.

The Sugamo Karaoke Experience Part 2

Before I begin this article, I read a couple of nights ago that Mr YOUNG MAN Hideki Saijo (西城秀樹) had passed away just a few days ago. I am not a big fan of Saijo but he was one of the singers who ushered me into the world of kayo early on. As such, it was a big shock to read that he's gone so soon. J-Canuck has done a nice little tribute to him which you can check out here. I'm happy that I had the chance to see this icon of the 70's a couple of times on TV. Rest in peace, Mr Saijo.

Well, let's continue on a brighter note, shall we? (Shoo, onion ninjas! Shoo!)

For a couple of weeks between the end of April and early May, I was back in Japan for what may be my last visit to the land of the rising sun for a while - I'll be heading off to university soon so I wanted to take care of some outstanding items on my list before I get shipped off. I did accomplish the goals I set out for this trip (at the cost of my bank account) around a fragment of Tohoku, a bit of Hokuriku, and of course, Tokyo, and I had an incredible time travelling with Mom for most of the time, and hanging around, as J-Canuck calls it, The Big Sushi, on my own for a few days. As with my previous trips, I would like to share with you guys the highlights. To start, I'd like to talk about my return to Mukashi no Uta no Mise, a karaoke joint somewhere in the middle of Sugamo's Jizodori.

I recorded down my first visit to this quaint joint a couple of years ago, so you can check that out here. This sequel will be a long one as it encompasses my third and fourth visit, so sit back and get comfy. Alright, let's begin.

My acceptance gift.

I was at Mukashi no Uta no Mise last December for my second visit, but with it being a weekday, there was hardly anyone there so I took it as some sort of a practice round to try out some songs I had been meaning to sing. This time around, however, was a whole different ball game. This third visit (and first of this recent trip) was during the middle of Golden Week, more specifically Children's Day Saturday, and I was on my own. I was a little worried as to whether there'd be anyone there as I thought that the oldies would be spending that day with their grand kids (if they had any). But I was dead wrong as an hour into opening time and the "party" was already in full swing. The Mama-san was happily surprised that I showed up again, and one of the folks, this uncle I'll call Y-san, recognized me from two years back.

With a rowdy audience of 6 (at that moment) and hyped on coffee, I went in over my head and picked my opening song, Ikuzo Yoshi's (吉幾三) "Hokugen Kaikyo" (北限海峡). I'd never sung it before (karaoke style) but I love it, so what could go wrong? - Oh, things went wrong. It was a bad idea to start with an unfamiliar song and the key was wrong and I couldn't quite get it either. I could feel the disappointment from the crowd too, especially since one of them even mentioned, "Oh, this looks promising," at the start. I stabilized a little, but I thought it was a travesty. I am so sorry, Yoshi.

"Omae...", the sweetest bit, but the hardest to sing, in my opinion.

With my senses slapped back into me, I switched to my original plan, which was opening with Hideo Murata's (村田英雄) "Meoto Shunju" (夫婦春秋). I thought it was decent - after tweaking the key a bit, though a little rough on the lowest notes than I'd hoped, I felt like I was redeemed in the eyes of the regulars, most of whom had honed their skills to a fine point. "All the oji-sans would shed happy tears when they hear you sing this," was my favourite comment. I was given a seal of approval and offered sushi (the first of many, many other snacks) that the group had brought along. By that time, the most rowdy member of the club had arrived - a flamboyant purple haired oji-san in a kimono whom I shall call Y-chan. He fanned the flames of an already noisy bunch to new heights with oolong highballs - much to the chagrin of this old lady beside me, though.

I followed it up with Hachiro Kasuga's (春日八郎) "Ore wa Nora Inu" (俺は野良犬), a song which I have decided to make my Juu-hachi ban. It was definitely a blast from the past for the audience with its nostalgic sound. Personally, I felt that this was my best song for that day.

By then, the handful of folks became two handfuls, and passionate cheers of encouragement like "Mattemashita!" (I waited for this!) were constantly thrown out to everyone. It also became apparent to the oldies that I knew a lot of enka - frankly, it's more because they picked many I so happened to know - so it became almost like a game to see if I could recognize or even sing whatever they sang. It was amusing... or they thought I was amusing.

En-ya-saaaa-to mawashiteeeeee...

Next was Haruo Minami's (三波春夫) "Funakata-san yo" (船方さんよ), which was personally the hardest to sing, not because I had problems with the song itself, but because the oldies were at peak levels of excitement while screaming out their kakegoe to go along with the song and Y-chan kept singing with me (it's one of his favourites), so I had a hard time listening to myself... I need more karaoke experience (this was only my third time ever). Overall, I thought it was OK in spite of the distractions.

After dwelling in the oldies, I decided to go with something more modern. By that I mean Kiyoshi Hikawa (氷川きよし) and "Choito Kimagure Wataridori" (ちょいと気まぐれ渡り鳥), and after, "Omokage no Miyako" (面影の都). The former I felt was better than the latter, plus it was a lot more fun to sing. It made me realize, however, that the Sugamo bunch couldn't be very much bothered about the Prince of Enka, so that made the serifu portion a little dull, though I did get a "Hai, ojou-san!" from the lovely Grandma K. The video above, which first also shows "Otone Nagare Tsuki" (大利根ながれ月), a song I sang at a later date, will give you an idea of how fans react to the whimsical "Choito Kimagure Wataridori".

My 8th choice and the last for that whole afternoon session, was Michiya Mihashi's (三橋美智也) "Yuyake no Tonbi" (夕焼けとんび), thus completing the Yonin Shu set. I also thought it'd be a good idea since it didn't require as much vocal gymnastics, and it was evening (around 5 pm) by then. Again, I had to tinker with the key, but it was a satisfactory end to Saturday. This being another of Y-chan's favourites, he actually gave me some notes for improvement, of which I felt honored for having received advice from one of the day's best singers.

There were handshakes here and there, and I even managed to arrange another meeting with some of them on the following Monday - I planned to go for another round anyways, so all the better with a few more folks. 'twas then when I finally introduced myself. Suddenly, I didn't feel so lonely anymore.

Monday came soon enough and I was back in Sugamo. As expected, it was pretty quiet and there was only a crowd of 3 strangers, and later the 2 folks from Saturday who promised to show up, Grandma K and this sweet lady called K-chan, much to my joy. I took it as another opportunity to try out more songs, which indeed I did - I (unwittingly) sang a total of 13 songs! Takoyaki was brought by grandma to the karaoke to share, which was enough for all present, though both ladies insisted I had theirs, so I ended up with 3. I was glad and relieved that the red ginger taste was very mild.

The first of three.

This session was partially me retrying a few numbers from my 2016 round, beginning with Hikawa's "Hakone Hachiri no Hanjiro" (箱根八里の半次郎), which I can always rely on for a warm-up, Minami's "Yuki no Wataridori" (雪の渡り鳥), Muchi's "Osho" (王将), and Michi's "Hoshikuzu no Machi" (星屑の町). The later three attempts I would consider "meh" - was in too mellow a mood to "feel" the them.

Oh boy, do I miss them...

New tunes were attempted too, and some of my best that day, I felt, were Duke Aces' "Onna Hitori" (女ひとり), and Haruo Oka's "Akogare no Hawaii Koro" (憧れのハワイ航路). I was nervous over their keys as well, but it all worked out in the end. For once I could agree with audiences' "Umai!" and "Jouzu!", and not see it as common courtesy .

To mix things up a little, I picked some daring stuff too, like Hikawa's version of "Benten Kozo" (弁天小僧), which was a real crowd-pleaser the moment I did it in his expressive manner - a deliberate decision. And also his recent single, "Shoubu no Hanamichi" (勝負の花道).

HA!

It goes without saying that I did another Hachi number, this time being "An' Tokya Doshaburi" (あん時ゃどしゃ降り), and the MV showcased the movie he was in from 1957. They knew I love Hachi, so I think they yelled out something on the line of "There's your Hacchan!" when he appeared. Yes, grandmas, my Hacchan...

0:49-0:57 though... ma heart...

Duets were quite commonplace that day, with a couple of the uncles wanting to sing something with Grandma K - she was pretty good for someone over 80. Eventually, she even invited me to sing 2 songs with her! Her choices were "Kiyoshi no Zundoko Bushi" (きよしのズンドコ節), followed by Dick Mine's "Tabi Sugata Sannin Otoko" (旅姿三人男), the latter chosen with the knowledge that I love matatabi enka. From the former, I noted that I had problems singing duets as I couldn't concentrate on my own key when my mind goes off listening to my partner's. The latter was better, though after that was when I truly felt exhausted from forcing out the low notes (my nemesis).

As the session came to a close, I wondered what song would be a meaningful end (for now, at least) to my fun-filled days at Mukashi no Uta no Mise. Frankly, I thought of saving the encouraging "Shoubu no Hanamichi" for this, but having already sung it earlier, I needed a replacement. And then a light bulb appeared - why not return to my Japanese music roots?

I chose "Hajimari wa Itsumo Ame" (はじまりはいつも雨) by Aska. The folks knew I'm all enka, but I wanted to show them what came first. Frankly, while I felt that it was a good attempt and better than a good half of my enka choices, the reception was lukewarm - except for K-chan, who was perpetually excited for anything. Grandma K and this other grandpa had no clue of the song's existance, and I have a bad feeling that the Mama-san did not approve of my choice, considering Aska's tarnished record - it's been 5 years, though...

Anyway, at the end of everything, I was pleasantly surprised albeit quite tentative to recieve some parting gifts from the folks. After all, I had only known them for two days. But they insisted, so I agreed to a pair of geta from K-chan, and a dinner treat from Grandma K. It was an awkward sushi dinner - not because I had problems communicating with the old lady, but because I had problems interacting with the sushi chef. Geez, he must have been wondering what this grandma was doing with this young foreigner who could barely speak Japanese...

I am very grateful to have met such wonderful people and experience their hospitality on this trip, and saying goodbye wasn't the easiest thing to do, to be honest. But I hope to see them again soon - now I'm aware that I have to appear on Saturdays or Sundays for most of the Sugamo bunch to be in attendance. Until then, I intend to fully learn Grandma K's favourite song, "Kantaro Tsukiyo Uta" (勘太郎月夜唄).

With that, we've come to the end of this article. It's been a long article - thank you for sticking through and I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Left: Conch; Right: Salmon
Far right: A gross pile of ginger

P.S. During one interview, Kohei Fukuda (福田こうへい) said that if you sing any one of the Yonin Shu's (Hachi, Michi, Muchi, Minami) songs, the oldies will go wild. I can strongly attest to that.

Izumi Kobayashi & Flying Mimi Band -- Naze（なぜ）

Kinda interesting how some of these singers from years past seemed to have transmigrated from one genre to another. There have been folks who have moved from Folk over to City Pop/AOR such as Sumiko Yamagata（やまがたすみこ）and the band Off-Course（オフコース）. Another form of crossover I've witnessed is seeing some of those City Pop artists go into anison. One such singer is Mai Yamane（山根麻衣）who I first knew for some of her early urban contemporary stuff but has subsequently become famous for her contributions to anime "Cowboy Be-Bop".

Then, there is singer-songwriter Izumi Kobayashi（小林泉美）who became known for creating theme songs for the famous "Urusei Yatsura"（うる星やつら）in the 1980s for which I will write something pretty soon. But I only found out about this after I discovered her early material on YouTube via New J Channel. 

Some years earlier, though, she and her group Flying Mimi Band were into the funkier stuff. For example, here is "Naze" (Why?) from her second album from October 1978 "Sea Flight"（シーフライト）. Not the greatest singer but hey, I do love the music. Must have been nice to strut the streets of Tokyo or Osaka to this one. And I always welcome a good mellow saxophone.

Izumi Kobayashi & Flying Mimi Band released their only two albums in 1978 when Kobayashi was in her early twenties, after which Mimi (her nickname) went solo in the 1980s with 4 albums. I'm also glad to hear that she hails from Funabashi City, Chiba Prefecture, a very familiar metropolis since it was a mere few stations down the Tozai Line from my neck of the woods.

Ruiko Kurahashi -- Rolling

I see that cover of Ruiko Kurahashi's（倉橋ルイ子）1983 album "Rolling", and I'm thinking that she'll greet me politely before asking me whether I will take another hit or stay at 17. "Rolling" was Kurahashi's 4th album from April 1983, and although it's awfully hard to find any of her songs on YouTube outside of "Glass no Yesterday"（ガラスのYesterday）and "Last Scene ni Ai wo Komete"（ラストシーンに愛をこめて）, I still feel pretty strongly about featuring her material since she is one of my favourite singers.

I've mentioned it before but I found out through the liner notes of one of those kayo compilation albums that there was a really small genre formed in the late 1970s and early 1980s known as Fashion Pop within Japanese music. Of course, being written in the liner notes of an album means that there wasn't too much deep insight into what it was all about, but my impression of it was that it involved female singers tackling languid melodies of a quasi-European nature from yesteryear. The singer that those liner notes were referring to was Asami Kado（門あさ美）, but I think another Asami, Asami Kobayashi（小林麻美）, and Kurahashi would fit into that niche. To be honest, my belief is that the genre could be better titled by something like Chaise Lounge Pop or Sigh Pop since I could imagine any of those chanteuses lying on that expensive furniture while barely breathing out the request "...grape me...".

Putting "Rolling" on the CD player, most or all of the album had that sort of luxurious ennui imbued into each of its tracks. I've already talked about one of them "Kanashimi no Ballad"（哀しみのバラード）, and the two tracks that I'm featuring here have plenty of that feeling. "Amedare"（雨だれ...Raindrops）, written by Fumiko Okada（岡田冨美子）and composed by Kisaburo Suzuki（鈴木キサブロー）, has that sweeping and wistful atmosphere surrounded by all sorts of melancholy as Kurahashi sings about the one that got away. I've always said that the singer had the perfect face to express all that sad feeling with those eyes. I just want to give her my coat in sympathy even if it's -20 degrees outside! No worries, Ms. Kurahashi...frostbite doesn't set in for another 30 seconds.

"Last Tango Steps"（ラスト・タンゴ・ステップス）is another slightly more uptempo ballad about lost love. Okada took care of the lyrics here as well with Kazuya Amikura（網倉一也）providing the music. Listening to this one, I think it's also the quivering in her voice that rather sells that melancholic air.

Not sure what it is. Kurahashi's brand of music often doesn't fall into City Pop or J-AOR (although she has sung such music), and although I could also say it's a form of sophisticated pop from the early 1980s, it certainly differs from the let's-paint-the-town-red variety from the late 1980s. As I intimated above, the protagonists in these songs don't seem to be too active. Yet, I also enjoy Fashion Pop quite a lot. And it seems as if a lot of other people have as well..."Rolling", according to J-Wiki, was the singer's most successful album on Oricon, peaking at No. 50.

All-Points Bulletin: Name This Tune

I have another mystery song for us to find a singer and a title. Received a message on the Contact Form and the sender was asking about the following tune.

http://picosong.com/wPuLk/
(dead link now)

I've listened to the long excerpt a couple of times but haven't been able to identify it so I'm putting it out there to the "Kayo Kyoku Plus" masses. It definitely sounds City Pop and the tone seems rather 1970s. As for the singer, I'm guessing it could be Kimiko Kasai（笠井紀美子）or Hitomi Tohyama（遠山ひとみ）with me leaning more towards Kasai since she debuted in the 1970s.

Anyways, if any of you can name this tune, let me know.

January 14 2020: I've got some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that picosong.com has gone kaput, but the good news is that the sender, Misha, was finally able to find the mystery song on his own. It's Chikara Ueda & The Power Station's "Twilight Shadows" from 1981. I'll have to talk about this one soon enough.

Hideki Saijo -- Koi suru Kisetsu（恋する季節）

I basically had the same reaction as some of the tarento present on the show clip in the top video. It seems as if the bulletin came out either a little more than half an hour or 12 hours after his passing at 11:53 pm JST on May 16th.

I found out about the death of 1970s aidoru Hideki Saijo（西城秀樹）earlier this morning on NHK's "News Watch 9" when it came out as the second headline. My reaction was "Whoa!". For the past number of years, I knew that Saijo hadn't been in peak health since his mild stroke over a decade ago but it was still a shock to hear that he had actually died from acute heart failure at the age of 63.

Saijo was one of the three male singing idols in the 1970s that were collectively named the Shin-Gosanke（新御三家...The New Big Three）as the apparent heirs to the original Gosanke from the 1960s. It would be decades before I had been aware of this grouping of Saijo, Hiromi Go（郷ひろみ）and Goro Noguchi（野口五郎）, but of the three, Saijo was the one that I first knew about as a boy since his long-haired and smiling figure in the 70s cool clothing (including bell-bottoms) was plastered all over the pages of those kiddy manga that my parents used to buy me at the old Furuya Japanese food store in Chinatown. Go and Noguchi were fellows that I only got to know from the 1980s, thanks to the Kohaku broadcasts that began in Toronto from 1981.

After I started getting into Japanese pop music big time following that trip to Japan in 1981, I actually borrowed a VHS tape of one of Saijo's concerts. I wasn't converted into a dedicated fan of his, but he basically had the audience wound around his finger through his hits and dynamic presence on the stage.

His presence was even felt in the anime world, specifically "Chibi Maruko-chan"（ちびまる子ちゃん）. The show took place in the 1970s so the Sakura sisters were depicted as having their own favourite singers. Older sister Sakiko was always in thrall to the charms of her Hideki. As it turned out, the singer even provided the second ending theme to the long-running series, "Hashire Shoujiki Mono"（走れ正直者）in the early 1990s.

To give my humble tribute to Saijo, I've decided to feature his debut song "Koi suru Kisetsu" (Season To Fall In Love) which came out in March 1972. I've found that whenever I listen to the first single of any veteran singer, I always peg his/her delivery as the prototype version of the familiar vocals, and Saijo's first single is no different. His voice was a shade higher, perhaps a bit rawer but I could still recognize it as Hideki's.

Kyohei Tsutsumi（筒美京平）composed the brass-and-strings song which seems to herald the arrival of a brash young man into the big city. He's coming into Tokyo to conquer it and not the other way around. Well, perhaps conquer is too strong a word but he's there to make his mark with a smile. According to the J-Wiki article for "Koi suru Kisetsu", the catchphrase for Saijo was "The Wild 17-Year-Old"（ワイルドな17歳）. Takashi Taka（たかたかし）provided the lyrics under one of his other pen names, Takashi Aso（麻生たかし）.

"Koi suru Kisetsu" peaked at No. 42 on Oricon, and it was also a track on his debut album "Wild na Juu-Nana Sai/Saijo Hideki"（ワイルドな17歳/西城秀樹）from November 1972.

Over the course of this blog, there have been a few singers and songwriters who have left this mortal coil over the years, but there is a certain enhanced poignancy with Saijo's passing since his face was one that I knew since early childhood. And along with Pink Lady and Momoe Yamaguchi（山口百恵）, Hideki Saijo was, to me at least, one of those pop culture figures that best represented the 1970s in Japan. I am absolutely certain that the next few days on the various wide shows will devote some of their programming to him, but here's hoping that come this weekend, some of the customers at the many branches of Big Echo and Karaoke Kan will give some tribute by engaging in a round of "Young Man"（ヤングマン）.