Issue #39: Daybreak

Discussing the new Riho Sayashi EP, "Shino Mama No Oha Rock" and ZOC's recent audio leak

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Earlier this month, an audio recording leaked of singer-songwriter Seiko Oomori in an aggressive verbal confrontation with Kannagi Maro, a member of the idol group ZOC. Oomori writes and produces ZOC’s songs while also being active as a member of the group. (Please be advised that the recording can be disturbing for some.)

From what can be made out, Oomori brought up to Maro how some of the contents of her social media posts can negatively affect the group as well as Oomori. She then raised her voice in a threatening level in reaction to how careless her fellow member’s posts seemed while Maro can be heard crying in response. Even without accounting for the sound of something being hit—Oomori said no one was hit—the recording is very sensitive, discomforting material.

It has been about a week since the incident at the time of this writing. There has yet to be an official statement from ZOC regarding the audio recording despite more than a few publications mentioning its circulation on social media. The group did clear some of it up to the audience of their Aug. 14 show.

“To explain how it got to the way it did, I made myself busy last year to protect myself mentally after so many things happening,” Oomori said, according to a live report by Storywriter. “But last month, I got some time off from work, and it messed up the rhythm I had and I started to lose a handle on myself.

“Maro wanted to help, and she tried to have a conversation with me about it. But I couldn’t keep good communication in response. I never bossed people around taking advantage of my position, but I raised my voice, and it spread around as this.”

“All of this might overlap with what Seiko said, but our conversation wasn’t just about one thing about tweets or messages on LINE, but it was to have better communication with Seiko and how to do more for ZOC,” Maro said. “I recorded that conversation for my own personal document. Seiko never raises her voice, so it took me by surprise, and I ended up sending it to members and former members.”

But a clarification given during a live show doesn’t amount to much as far as official PR statements go. The fans and listeners only know about the information because of writers like the one from Storywriter reporting from the venue. The rest of the crowd have to make due so far with a duet between Maro and Oomori uploaded on YouTube as their currently only gesture that tries to make amends, however vaguely. Without much public word from anybody in regards to the situation, though, the video continues to sit around awkwardly at a loss of its own purpose.

The incident threatens the respect of Oomori in her multiple roles in ZOC. The lack of etiquette in proper communication as witnessed in the recording puts to question her ability to lead a group. If this turns out to not be an isolated incident contrary to their statements, it’s clearly a hostile workplace. Her lack of care for how others feels from her actions as heard in the audio also distorts the credibility behind the lyrics of ZOC songs. Many of the group’s songs hinge on the empathy for mental and sometimes physical damage inflicted upon us by others while aspiring to forge a space together in escape of it. How can listeners place trust in the songwriter and her ambitions if she perpetrates the very actions she supposedly remains against?

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We started with a serious, sensitive topic for this issue, though the rest I promise will be less intense. For this week, come for words on an amazing pop EP as well as a series of great singles, and stay for a novelty single that should elicit a deep nostalgia from millennials familiar with aughts Japanese media.

Happy listening!

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Album of the Week

Daybreak EP by Riho Sayashi [Savo-R]

Recommended track: “Find Me Out” | Listen to it on Spotify

Last spring saw Riho Sayashi resume activities as a proper solo artist, and the first on the agenda was her inaugural Instagram Live on her newly set-up account. The former idol had returned to the stage here and there since graduating from her former group Morning Musume in 2015, stepping on international venues as a dancer for Babymetal or guesting as an alumna for a Hello! Project concert. But she was now on her own in front of a virtual audience of thousands while learning how to engage in a routine not around during her idol days. She expectedly appeared camera shy, struggling to keep up conversation.

Sayashi has shaken off a lot of the jitters since her first Instagram Live from the sound of her debut EP, Daybreak, though her personal journey to grow into an ideal solo artist seems to become more complicated. Stage fright attacks her more viciously, but it also comes from a more serious, personal place than pure nervousness: “I hate me,” she cries out in the EP’s most searing hook as she tries to mentally prepare herself before a performance. The five songs of Daybreak map out a self-redemptive arc attempting to grow out of this cynicism, following Sayashi’s search for the things that make performing worthwhile despite its torturous moments.

Prior to Daybreak, the closest idea for a Riho Sayashi solo song was Morning Musume’s “Tsumetai Kaze To Kataomoi,” her last single as an idol with a throbbing bass line reminiscent of Taylor Swift’s “Style.” The EP meanwhile rids some of the fussiness in a Morning Musume arrangement and offers a sleek set of songs more fit for Sayashi’s recent stint as a dancer. The bombastic hip hop in “Simply Me” finds the solo star in the lineage of ‘00s breakout stars riding on big-budget R&B; “Puzzle” dims the lights while she sways to sparkling funk that rides similar to today’s city-pop revivalists. Sayashi assumes different personalities while navigateing a wide range of bobbing productions like a stylish pop chameleon.

The EP’s sequencing plays key to elevate Daybreak as more than a business card for Sayashi. Second in the track list, “BUTAI” leaves a loud, unforgettable statement with its maximalist EDM production but also its deeply self-critical lyrics. It’s where the “I hate me” hook comes from, and the rest of the song reads as a private pep talk by Sayashi to herself before she returns to the titular stage: “Trying to be cool, saying it’s for the challenge / all you have to do is just dive in,” she sings, calling out her foolish pretentiousness but all in hopes for self-growth. The busy electronic beat upholds a needling tension reflective of the singer’s anxieties but also provides a much cathartic release come the chorus into a fine moment of clarity.

The one-two punch of Sayashi unpacking her anxieties in “BUTAI” as well as her reluctance to open up her heart in the exquisite “Find Me Out” makes the triumph scored in the rest of EP come across as deserved, hard-won accomplishments. While the glossy funk of “Puzzle” sweetens the mood after a series of stoic tracks, it’s also charming to see Sayashi now emboldened and ready to give thanks to someone who completes her: “The fact that you were / an important piece to my puzzle / I barely realized that now,” she sings in the chorus with a tinge of regret, wishing to turn back time. Though just as thoughtful as her more self-critical tracks, she’s earned a moment to take a breather from recounting her errors and indulge in a breezy love song.

I like to also think of “Puzzle” and the “important pieces to her puzzle” as Sayashi showing her gratitude to her faithful fans. “It’s all thanks to you that I thought about singing again,” she said through tears at her concert for her EP release. “If it was any later, I think I would have quit. But because you always supported me, I was able to slowly feel more positive and stand here right now.” The clip is also featured in the music video for the EP’s last track, “LAZER,” that stamps a neat conclusion to the narrative of the record. She gradually regains faith in herself, and the propelling EDM beat drives that feeling home. After episodes with self-loathing and failures, Daybreak closes its chapter as a glowing victory lap even at its most sentimental.

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Singles Club

“Nobody Knows” by RYOKO2000 [self-released]

RYOKO2000’s obsession with gabber as highlighted in last year’s Parasitic Dominator EP takes a backseat in the duo’s follow-up, Travel Guide. The new EP overall sounds considerably subdued than its predecessor as Noripi and Piano Otoko churn out sleek, weightless drum ‘n’ bass, though “Nobody Knows” packs the most punch out of the rest with the classic Amen break barrelling out of the wispy synth pads. Travel Guide tracks a different indulgence in speed from the two for certain, but it’s a welcome excursion into a new terrain.

Travel Guide EP is out now. Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify.

See also: “Camelia” by DJ Yummy; “Floating Mountains” by Soshi Takeda

“Yuuka Na Kimie” by SaToA [kesakuuta market]

A year after their split EP with singer-songwriter ayU tokiO, SaToA remain burrowed in their quiet, peaceful home base in “Yuuka Na Kimie.” The three-piece whisper over a guitar riff just as soft with their usual exuberant jangling toned down to a gentle strum and a pair of shakers. The single however sounds far from bashful. Their warm harmonies open the track for others to listen in while expressing the band’s own growing comfort in entrusting their feelings to another. “You’re looking my way, seemingly so brave / an illusion that’s so bright like the real thing,” the band sings in the titular chorus. “I’ll try to do the same just a little.” “Yuuka Na Kimie” follows SaToA gradually regaining their faith, and their sincere ode to an admirable “you” radiates with a humble yet infectious glow.

Listen to it on Spotify.

See also: “Cats in the Galaxy” by AIRCRAFT; “Little me” by LIGHTERS

“Home” by Seira Kariya [PUMP!]

I always have a soft spot for a jyokyo-inspired song done right like Seira Kariya’s new single, “Home.” The ebullient R&B track follows the classic moving-to-the-big-city narrative guiding so many Japanese pop songs throughout history. Kariya may let it flow in today’s popular triplet cadence, but a somber lyric like “the skyscrapers are so tall / that the sky looks so crowded” carries a timeless echo from countless musicians of the past moving to Tokyo to chase their dreams. That said, the singer fulfills her personal redemption arc in her own way, bringing the optimism that defines her catalog as well as contributions in collaborations like HallKariMaako. “Home” glows with gratitude especially in the chorus—“I can hear parts of you from my ear drum, and it gives me the strength to keep going”—but not without the hardships that makes it precious.

Listen to it on Spotify.

See also: “pearl fruit” by ASA Wu; “Iiyatsu” by ASOBOiSM

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This Week in 2000…

“Shingo Mama No Oha Rock” by Shingo Mama [Victor, 2000]

No. 1 during the week of August 28, 2000 | Listen to it on YouTube

The greatest legacy of “Shingo Mama No Oha Rock” is how it cemented the song’s catchphrase, coined by the titular character performed by SMAP’s Katori Shingo, as a part of the millennial lexicon. A truncated and remixed form of ohayo, Japanese for good morning, “oh-ha!” was chosen as the Word of the Year by publisher Jiyuu Kokuminsha in 2000. Greet anyone born during the ‘90s with it, and you’ll likely be hit back with both “oh-ha!” and the accompanying hand gesture.

“Shingo Mama No Oha Rock” didn’t directly generate the phrase’s ubiquity, however, and it instead stands as a product resulting from the rising buzz. The novelty single was born out of the variety-show segment that first introduced the character Shingo Mama, with Pizzicato Five’s Yasuharu Konishi building a song around the basic premise of Shingo Mama No Kossori Asagohan, or Shingo Mama’s Secret Breakfast: per request from a viewer, Katori sneaks into a family’s home to cook them breakfast while the mother gets to sleep in. Konishi arranges the track with big-band flourishes, carrying the ‘60s pop touch of his main band. He also inserts the show’s recurring jokes as hooks, like Katori’s “mayo kiss” in reference to his gag of getting a bit of mayonnaise straight out of the bottle from every house he visits (as seen on the single’s cover art).

The single wouldn’t have taken off as it did without Katori’s own star power as well as the attention behind his home group SMAP during the turn of the century. The boy band had already dominated culture by 2000 with each of the five members taking on their own niche in TV. They established themselves as variety-show mainstays beyond their own central show, SMAP x SMAP, while setting up a few smaller satellite shows, like Sata Sma that housed the Shingo Mama segment. Katori on his own, too, was a comedic personality well-suited to play along with such an absurd premise, dressed as a stereotypical housewife and all.

Besides the lyrical references to the show as well as, perhaps for the more music-inclined, the involvement of Konishi, “Shingo Mama No Oha Rock” doesn’t make much of an effort to prove its own significance. Like a theme song to a classic cartoon, the song assumes its own importance is already familiar to its audience, its appeal retroactively granted through the success of its associated show. Even its main award-winning hook partly hinges on previous media knowledge, and both the song and catchphrase are more and more reliant now upon generational nostalgia.

“Shingo Mama No Oha Rock” at the time of release was too big to fail thanks to all of its associations with TV and celebrity culture, so big in fact it threatened to overwrite the roots of its central catchphrase. The children’s morning variety show Oha Sta, which began broadcast a few years before the song, had already adopted a nearly identical greeting to Shingo Mama’s with a similar accompanying hand gesture as part of their regular gag. Before researching for this piece, I thought the catchphrase came about as a collaborated effort between the two media entities. I grew up with “oh-ha!” as a part of the popular lexicon, so the more complicated origin story was a shake-up to what I remember from my youth.

Shingo Mama remains as an artifact of its time now, but her antics are still embedded in a certain generation’s memories two decades later. Family Mart didn’t use the name outright for its 2019 commercial starring Katori, but him in a traditional restaurant waitress uniform, named Shingohaha no less, resembled an aged version of his past character enough for Jijipress to make mention. And when the former SMAP member announced his appearance on the children’s show this year, people tweeted that they identified themselves as being from “the Shingo Mama days,” according to Tokyo Chunichi Sports. The catchphrase debacle seems like now water under the bridge with Oha Sta teasing Katori’s future guest spot by airing old clips of Shingo Mama No Kossori Asagohan. Though with the show’s main audience not old enough to even remember SMAP’s last days, maybe Oha Sta didn’t have much to lose 20 years later.

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