Everyone has been asking me for an article about Japanese music (and by everyone I mean one person in one comment several months ago), so here you are.
Partying with Japanese people means that you will find yourself singing karaoke with them. With fellow coworkers, this could be in a box (nicer than the word implies) at a big karaoke chain like Big Echo, or within the intimate confines of a “snack bar,” or at a stress-release party after a major event at a resort hotel. Being English-speaking Westerners, you’ll naturally gravitate towards the Western songs that are in the catalogs, and with millions of songs from all over the world to choose from, you can make the safe choice of “You Remind Me” to show off your manly gravelly voice.
Or you can learn something from deep in Japan’s cultural legacy and really impress your coworkers. Back in 2011 at an end-of-year party (bounenkai, the Japanese equivalent of a company Christmas party) with the real teachers at the school I was visiting that semester,1 I sang “Guts Daze,” a 1995 hit by Osaka band Ulfuls (urufuruzu, a katakana murder of the word “soulful”). It is a song more or less about taking your shot. While a huge hit that most Japanese people know, the Ulfuls have zero international presence. Non-Japanese have never heard the band’s name and know none of their songs. It was a pleasant shock to my coworkers to hear me go up and not just sing it, but sing it well. The incident made me instantly one of them despite the language barrier and my blue eyes and my ridiculous nose.
All this is to say that Japan has produced so much more music than anyone outside its borders has heard. The Ulfuls are a fairly poppish rock band who owe much of their sound to the Beatles. Hailing from Osaka, they have a strong comedic bent and their music videos are often fun. Even when they delve into melancholy (“Naketekuru”) they often couch it in something absurd to take the edge off, like a commercial selling an energy drink.2 On that same single the song “Ryouhou for You” was the theme of the annual high school boys’ baseball tournament at Koshien Stadium in Osaka.3 And when they do more serious fare they do it quite well. They are currently singing about dancing like old men, fitting for me as I’m not that much younger than they are.
The Ulfuls’ charismatic lead singer is Tortoise Matsumoto. A dream collaboration is his character-rich voice with my favorite Japanese artist, Shiina Ringo.4 Unfortunately, we did not get late 1990s Peak Ulfuls Tortoise with Youthful Exuberance Ringo at the dawn of her career, we got a silly 1920s Broadway style commercial for a shopping mall 15 years too late. Ulfuls have rightly earned a strong fan base and still sell records, but they don’t really cover any new ground in their most recent music. But Shiina Ringo, with a voice that can cut glass, will never run into that problem. She started her career5 singing pop songs backed by a blues-infused punk sound all her own which she called “Shinjuku-kei.”6 It was a vastly different approach from the biggest selling female stars of her era: Hamasaki Ayumi, Amuro Namie, and Utada Hikaru. All are polished-to-a-glow, pretty pop stars. Amuro can dance and sold millions and millions of copies of albums and singles to her devoted fans. Utada speaks English and grew up with wealthy, successful parents in the recording industry, spending some years in New York City and even releasing a rather regrettable album in the American market (I may be easy-breezy to her, but is she Japanese-y or Japan-easy?). Hamasaki writes all her own music and made a massive impact in the Japanese fashion world. She is the Queen Gyaru, she popularized the big golden hair and shiny makeup and garish outfits that blossomed across the nation in the late 1990s. Shiina, though…
I’ll pause here to give an honorable mention to Koda Kumi, because she was brave enough to ask the question, “What if a slut were to sing J-pop songs while prancing about in lingerie and simulating lewd acts with her female backup dancers?” Bless her and her many talents, for she sold many copies of her work as well.
Shiina Ringo did not stick with the usual pop music topics of partying, dancing, and love and/or sex. Instead, she dealt with desperate loneliness in her biggest hit, “Tsumi to Batsu.” Obssession in the oddly touching “Gips.” Prostitution in retro banger “Kabuki-chou no Joou.” Drugs and sexual word play in the upbeat “Marunouchi Sadistic.” Her first album Muzai Moratorium and its follow up Shoso Strip are two of the most complete albums I have ever heard. Muzai is (much) more radio friendly, with more familiar sounds that are still more jazzy or bluesy or punky than her contemporaries. Strip is more daring and is home to her two biggest hits, “Honnou” and the aforementioned “Tsumi to Batsu.” She was pushing the envelope very early in her career, and “Tsumi to Batsu,” being her biggest hit, is a song she continues to perform to the delight of her fans. She performs it in different arrangements, and it still kills.
Shoso Strip was only the beginning of her experimentation. Her third and fourth albums are an exclamation at the end of the first phase of her career. Her fourth, Heisei Fuuzoku, serves as the soundtrack to the Ninagawa Mika movie “Sakuran,” based on a manga about a prostitute courtesan in Edo Japan. Most of the songs on it are reworked versions from her exceedingly weird experimental avant-gard third album, Kalk, Zamen, Kuri no Hana, whose title comes from an amusing argument a couple of guys on her team were having whether semen (zamen) smells more like chestnut flowers (kuri no hana) or chlorine (kalk, sort of). ANYWAY, the original album is full of experimental sounds and unconventional instruments (mostly), such as the didgeridoo on tracks “Meisai” and “Kuki,”7 the karimba and jaw harp in “Torikoshi Kurou,” or the vacuum cleaner(!) easing us into “Yattsuke Shigoto.” It is difficult to comment on the lyrics. On one level, bridging the gap between the cultural expectations of Westerners and Japanese provides a challenge, and putting on top of that the abstract and poetic Japanese Shiina uses renders the task almost moot, as her songwriting is on a different level from your average Jpop artist. She spends a lot of time on this album exploring the nature of life, “Kuki” in particular could be seen as either hopeful or despairing depending on one’s mood. At any rate, anyone who loves music will find both of these albums endlessly fascinating.
She performed several more rearranged versions of songs from these albums at a jazz concert released as on video as Baisho Ecstacy. “Okonomide” is an especially good track from this performance. For NHK she contributed the song “Ringo no Uta” played over a stop-motion video on e-tele during their children’s programming. The official promotional video features Shiina donning costumes from her previous videos and moving through them, ending with her as she was at that moment, which she saw as the end of her solo career. The single included a version of Shoso Strip’s “Yokushitsu” with its EDM beats completely removed in favor of a more orchestral arrangement. She translated her lyrics into English and renamed it “La Salle de Bain.” Her voice can be difficult to listen to at times, but these two songs in particular show her skill in using what she has and the emotion she can convey. She doesn’t belt out a high note and hold it with an impressive vibrato. She seizes her gifts and uses them to make people feel something, whether it is difficult and unpleasant or warm and fuzzy. She does this far more effectively than her contemporaries, most evident in a 2016 duet she performed with her friend Utada Hikaru. Utada’s voice is easier on the ears, but less interesting, less emotional.
Shiina formed a band called Tokyo Jihen (the Tokyo Incidents). Drummer Hata Toshiki lived a true rock star life, in one incident getting drunk and running nude through a park somewhere in Tokyo… although now he farms with his parents and goes fishing a lot. Bassist Kameda Seiji worked with her throughout her solo career, and he has had a long, successful career as a producer outside his association with her. Keyboardist Izawa Ichiyo she continues to work with on solo projects, including the big duet album she released in 2024. He replaced H ZETT M, the keyboardist in Phase 1. Guitarist Ukigumo, a successful producer in his own right, is also a replacement, ably stepping in after Phase 1 guitarist Hirama Mikio left. Hirama has continued to collaborate with Shiina Ringo in her ongoing solo work.
Tokyo Jihen’s maiden album Kyoiku kicks off phase one with a punky cover of “Ringo no Uta,” and their second album, Adult, is drummed into existence by the steady beat of “Himitsu.” While both albums are worth listening to front to back with lots of interesting things going on in the deep cuts (“Service,” “Ekimae,” “Keshou Naoshi”), the music is best experienced in the concert video Just Can’t Help It. It opens with “Yukiguni” and sets a mysterious tone that evokes the feeling of listening to something you’re not supposed to be listening to, which sends you right into “Genjistu wo Warau.” There’s an urgency to the performance. A danger. Tokyo Jihen is a forbidden fruit.
They produced three more albums and an EP before splitting up. Variety is the most interesting one, a collection of mostly 3-ish minute pop-rock songs in an eclectic, uh, variety of styles. “Fukushuu” is there with a menacing, heavy guitar. “SSAW” gives us a light and whimsical sound. “OSCA” is a romp named after an old Alfa but doesn’t seem to be about the car at all. Sports is the best one with the best singles. It opens a capella with “Ikiru,” an interesting blend of chords and electronic manipulation unlike your usual generic Jpop I-IV-V-VI. “Denpa Tsuushin” showcases Ukigumo in a hard driving riff and “Noriki” is led by Izawa’s synthesizer. “Kimaru” is the best track, a slow build a la “Stairway to Heaven” but in about 70% of the time, but my favorite is “FAIR,” perfect for a fine, not-too-hot summer afternoon with the windows open (and the top down if you have a convertible). Discovery is their most commercial one, with seemingly every song being used in a commercial tie-in, or as the theme song for a TV drama on one of the major stations. “Osorubeki Otonatachi” (“Les Adultes Terribles” [live version from Discovery concert video]) is the best song, and the lyrics are even in English so you can enjoy it, too. In 2021 they reunited and released Music, another strong effort that is enjoyable from front to back, accompanied by a youtube series “Hanakin,” a sort of Tokyo Jihen variety show following each of the members as they cook, work out, go fishing, or just laze about at hot spring resorts eating and bathing.
Shiina Ringo has continued her solo career while not with Tokyo Jihen, although she continues to work with the individual members in her other projects. She writes a lot for other A-list talent. Her most recent album is a collaboration with other successful musicians (the second in her discography), accompanied by a video release of an elaborate concert worthy of Carnegie Hall. While it is unlikely anyone here at ACF would sing any of her songs at karaoke, she is definitely worth listening to, and stands at the very pinnacle of Japanese popular music.
I was an Assistant Language Teacher (ALT), the only credential I had was a BA and the only responsibility I had was doing what the licensed Japanese teacher told me to do. It was a great job, but limited in its prospects.
This particular product was hyped back in the 1980s by no less than Arnold Schwarzenegger.
This is a big deal, the Koshien high school tournament is the equivalent of March Madness in the USA, with all 47 prefectures sending their prefectural champion. My wife’s hometown consistently sends a competitor and they have won the whole thing in the past.
I learned these artists’ names mostly when I lived in Japan, and naming conventions put the family name first, so that’s how almost all of them will appear in this and subsequent articles. One exception is Tortoise Matsumoto, but of course Tortoise is not his birth name.
True to Japan’s “This isn’t even my final form,” she was very unhappy with the tone of this single and the version on Muzai Moratorium is much more satisfying.
This is opposed to “Shibuya-kei,” which was the trendier, more upscale scene of the more popular pop stars of the era, like Hamasaki Ayumi.
The original version of “Kuki” linked here is in English.
Tremendous!
I understood almost nothing of that, but could observe almost immediately that this was written by somebody with a deep understanding of the subject matter and a gift for explaining himself with the written word.
Exceedingly well done.