Issue #55: Nocturnal
Issue #55: Nocturnal
The newsletter returns to explore the new Tokyo Girls' Style album, YMO's "Rydeen" and Ado's songs for the new One Piece film
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The songwriters involved in the Uta’s Songs One Piece Red album understand Ado’s voice as an instrument. Mrs. Green Apple’s Motoki Ohmori hands the singer a set of wide-eyed lyrics for her to blow up into a dramatic scale in “I’m Invincible.” Vaundy exploits the capabilities of her voice as a vehicle to express anger in “Backlight.” FAKE TYPE. reverse-engineer it as if it’s a Vocaloid synth in “Utakata Lullaby,” making her bend it into all kinds of shapes in a speedy, kitchen-sink production.
While each contributor presents Ado and her voice in an unique light, Yasutaka Nakata’s vision of the singer in “New Genesis” marks it the best out of the collection but also one of my favorite songs of the year. The producer admittedly loses out to Vaundy when it comes to extracting the most from her personality and FAKE TYPE in technique, but he makes up for it by showcasing a relatively unexplored side of Ado as a wholesome personality fit to sing life-affirming songs.
“New Genesis” by Ado
Considering his most known projects, Nakata seems rather antithetical a producer to Ado. His signature sound in the public imagination can be described as “android pop” with effect-laden vocals singing like a machine trying to synthesize emotion—think Perfume’s “Love the World.” The approach seems backwards-thinking if applied to Ado, who cut her teeth as an utaite covering famous Vocaloid songs on YouTube. She has figured out how to practically recreate the Uncanny-Valley distortion on her own. A stereotypical Nakata treatment would flatten a powerful, malleable voice like hers.
But Nakata is a renowned producer after all, and he knows what’s best for Ado in “New Genesis” for the new One Piece film. Not only does he keep his collaborator’s voice untreated, he has her sing a series of extraordinary lyrics that lives up to those towering vocals. “The new genesis is in this future / only if we change the entire world,” Ado sings in the grand-piano-led intro before a flashy, embellished synth-pop production sweeps in. Nakata understands her voice is too big a vehicle to carry everyday lyrics; it needs to cling on to hyperbolic phrases like “we can change the world” to fulfill its potential.
The boundless optimism of “New Genesis” is rather uncharacteristic for both Ado and Nakata. The former got her break in the viral hit “Ussewa,” a song literally shouting shut the fuck up, and her most successful songs thereafter have used catharsis of emotions like mania or sorrow as a central element. The latter recently teased a darker outlook of the future in his work for Perfume and their new album Plasma. “It’s hard to breathe / I want to escape / this strange world,” Perfume sing in the chorus of the album’s final track, “Sayonara Plastic World.” Though they finally get to escape from their misery, it takes a dozen of emotionally exhausted songs to get there.
“New Genesis” comparatively shines with the power of a thousand suns. Nakata’s production plays like a superhero theme while Ado sings about a bright tomorrow and the power of music with absolute conviction. From how carefree she hits her big notes, changing the world sounds easy as a snap of a finger. And the music functions as an engine to evoke the very awe-inspiring sensation in stores as sung by Ado. Not only do they inspire you to believe in an exciting future, they let you feel that possible reality. Cynicism seems futile against a song like “New Genesis.” Ado and Nakata show you the world, and it feels too enticing to not opt in.
After a brief hiatus, it feels great to be back with a new issue of This Side of Japan! And that time putting the newsletter on hold did not go to waste: I got to interview Perfume and write about their new album, Plasma, for the Japan Times! You can check the story out here. It was stressful writing it, not going to lie, but it was worth it.
Now, we get back into our regular business, first with an album by an idol group that may or may not also be described as city pop revival. We also really go back in time for the Oricon flashback for an absolute classic. And the Singles Club will fill in the gaps with the latest in house, indie rock and… emo rap? Pop punk goes hip hop?
Anyway, happy listening!
Album of the Week
Nocturnal by Tokyo Girls’ Style [Avex Trax]
*Recommended track: “Cornercut Memories” | Listen to it on Spotify
Tokyo Girls’ Style get back into their original groove in perfect timing for their new album, Nocturnal. The group put their retro, Hello! Project-esque funk on indefinite hold in 2016 to establish themselves beyond the image of idol, hopping on the then-hyped pop trends to rebuild themselves into a self-described “performance group.” Their subsequent records, however, slowly veered into the dance music of the past just in time as artists, both in idol and pop at large, also began to look more into nostalgic styles like city pop for inspiration. Already ahead of the game, Tokyo Girls’ Style shows in Nocturnal how to best utilize the retro aesthetic as a backdrop.
Nocturnal turns the clock back slightly further than the era informing the flashy funk of their previous full-length, 2014’s Killing Me Softly. Warm synthesizers accent the album, but much of the flourishes aim for a more analog take on city pop—more AOR and soul than hi-fi synth-pop. Slicker production resides toward the back end as titles like “Girl’s Talk” and “Friday Night” ride on the backs of the lively, communal atmosphere of their respective disco music. The album musically flows like a casual day falling into a busy night with languid soul transitioning into party-ready funk before circling back to the steady R&B of “days ~kimidake ga inaimachi~.”
The sequencing also unfolds a loose narrative threaded along the tracks of Nocturnal. While the fuzzy New Jack Swing of “Viva La Koigokoro” find Tokyo Girls’ Style swooning over a crush, the bubble quickly bursts as reality sets in across the next series of tracks. It’s not the sweetness but the melted, beyond-repair state of the titular dessert that describes the dissolving love in “Strawberry Float”; the idols sulk in their predicament while being drenched by metaphorical rain in the melodramatic “Kono ame ga agattemo.” The breeziness flowing from the music might soften some of the frustration and bitterness at hand, but that same stateliness doesn’t allow for the lingering melancholy to completely resolve.
Prefaced by a series of emotionally resigned tracks, the upbeat nights out in Nocturnal provide a needed form of relief as much as thrill and pleasure. Anticipation grows in “Friday Night” as the idols daydream about the weekend not just as an opportunity to blow off steam but to quench their thirst for the new. They almost seem satisfied without a new partner in “Girl’s Talk” as they surround themselves in the company of each other, like they’re recreating their own Sex and the City. Talking up the glamorous scene they live in with music to match, the idols haven’t indulged in their own group’s namesake this literal and direct a manner.
Tokyo Girls’ Style fail to keep their livelihood for long. The resentment rushes back in “Boku wa usotsuki” as the elation of the night dies down: “Since that day / I’m empty,” the idols sigh, “You I / without you / I didn’t know it’d be this tough.” But while their lyrics are steeped in regret and heartbreak, the tender AOR lightens the hurt as just another bump in the road, allowing the idols to take the experience in stride: “Until we reconnect, I’ll live like myself,” the idols sing as their closing words in the penultimate “days ~kimidake ga inaimachi~,” embracing solitude and singledom as more a default state of living.
The AOR music of Nocturnal feels so casual in its lightness, the experiences within it unfold as an everyday, almost mundane matter. The emotions like pain and yearning still resonate, but the calm of the music disperses them before they can build up into something melodramatic. The idols, too, sound defeated but not broken, their stories sullen but not a tragedy—lifelike. More than honing the sounds of their influences, this is where Nocturnal thrives according to their reference points: Tokyo Girls’ Style poses the glamor of life is best expressed by capturing life as is.
Singles Club
“lose control” by ankokushinwa [NC4K]
After serving acid and dub on its Yellow subsidiary built to expand beyond house music, Kyoto dance label NC4K delivers a slice of jungle from ankokoshinwa. While they aren’t foreign to the breakbeat-happy style, the Suginami-based producer loosen up their drum assault to bring a more elegant rave that hues close to the classic era for “lose control.” The drums maintains the usual speed, sprinkled with pitched-up James Brown grunts, and then the euphoric rave chords arrive. When the percussion turns all the way down and the trance synths fill the air, you almost wish the moment lingers for a little bit more until the drum breaks snap back into place again.
Lose Control EP is out Aug. 19. Listen to the song on Bandcamp.
See also: “Booty Paradise” by Guchon; “Nude” by PICNIC WOMEN
“LOXONIN” by EDWARD(me) [self-released]
EDWARD(me) no longer sounds stuck in the mud in “LOXONIN” as she reacquaints herself with a heart-fluttering feeling that she doesn’t quite recognize. “You suddenly appeared / it’s scary how you just blow away the pain,” she raps, and the production, too, opens up with her go-to grunge riffs now swapped to a blast of loud, lithe pop punk—“Get through errday / while listening to Green Day,” she notes in the chorus. The burst of sticky emo rap that’s “LOXONIN” is all-consuming as it is fleeting, just like the sweet new feeling brightening the rapper out of her misery.
Listen to it on Spotify.
See also: “Tomorrow” by rirugiliyangugili; “breathe in” by uyuni
“Summer Pop’97” by Moon in June [Dreamwaves]
As if to lead by example, Moon in June shed the bummer and weight of their shoegaze to sing of optimism for what might lie ahead in “Summer Pop’97.” Downtrodden folks still populate their music, but the band’s now-tender, wide-eyed indie rock in the lineage of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart points to the other side of things. Had it not been surrounded by such beatific music, the advice that caught my attention in the song can read a tad cynical: “We will soon be able to lie to ourselves about how we feel,” goes a lyric in the chorus. But I’ll take it as a suggestion that sometimes we got to fake happiness until it becomes real.
evergreen is out now. Listen to the album on Bandcamp.
See also: “Zeitaku” by plums; “girl” by suya suya junction
This Week in 1980…
This section is usually dedicated to the Oricon number ones throughout the chart’s history, but for this issue, I’ll write about a hit that did not make it at the very top.
“Rydeen” by Yellow Magic Orchestra [Alfa, 1980]
Highest Oricon position at no. 15 on Aug. 11, 1980 | Listen to it on Spotify/YouTube
Legend has it that Ryuichi Sakamoto wrote down the melody of “Rydeen” as hummed by Yukihiro Takahashi on a paper napkin at a bar. The latter remembers it differently, claiming the former might have heard a different tune. “[Sakamoto] always says this, but I recall coming up with the melody for the first time when we went to the Alfa studio,” Takahashi tweeted in 2016. “Maybe he wrote down the melody for ‘Le femme choinoise’ or the B section to ‘Rydeen’?”
The facts remain foggy among the men of Yellow Magic Orchestra, but what matters most about the origin story is the person responsible for such a classic melody. While each of the members are legacy songwriters in their own right, Takahashi’s solo works display the strongest pop instincts, and it doesn’t come to much surprise to see him credited for the single. A visual of the band’s drummer humming the tune is a plus and an appropriate way to perform an elementary melody that sings like a jingle—or in my case, a ringtone: for the longest time, I thought “Rydeen” was a preset ringtone on my dad’s cell phone long before I discovered the identity of Yellow Magic Orchestra.
The colorful synth-flute riff meanwhile retains the conceptual foundation of the band. Yellow Magic Orchestra began as an exploration of musical orientalism in the West, first conceptualized by eventual band leader Haruomi Hosono in his album Paraiso with the Yellow Magic Band, and best exemplified in YMO’s cover of Martin Denny’s “Firecracker.” The title “Raideen” also follows oriental roots with it originally named Raiden after the famed Meiwa-era sumo wrestler Raiden Tamaeon.
That said, “Rydeen” works far better to showcase the awe-inspiring power of new technology than the cultural mingling of the past. When YMO caught the public’s attention, the Japanese media clung less to the band’s conceptual ambitions than their interest in synthesizers, with interviews usually going into an in-depth introduction of the huge rigs of gear they operated. While the technology looked imposing, they messed around with their machines as if they were toys, turning knobs or warping their vocals.
YMO made synthesizers more approachable through their prankster personas, and their singles were proof the music produced by them wasn’t rocket science. The sounds of “Rydeen” becomes a mean to itself as the mission behind the song seems to be to present electronic music as something cool and evocative. The synths driving the melody glisten with the shine of a new action figure as the stomping intro motif sets an epic stage for the titular machine to flourish—just like its decided namesake, the popular super robot anime series, Brave Raideen. The percussion as well as the bubbling bass line bring the feeling of speed and momentum.
“Rydeen” gestures at power via technology through and through, and its descendants paid homage to that sensation as much as the sound. Afrika Bambaataa’s booming hip hop or Cybotron’s kinetic techno celebrates the sheer awesome sounds summoned by the synthesizer as much as the dawn of a new era suggested by the instrument. But much of the legacy of “Rydeen” also arguably owes to its pure spirit guided largely by the synth riff: its catchiness is so everlasting, it would support a Eurobeat-esque remake almost 35 years later1. YMO wouldn't indulge in something as pop until their final years. They maybe knew it'd be foolish trying to recapture lightning in a bottle, but with their working relationship among each other straining over the years, who knows if the three had it in them to come up with a tune this wholesome again.
You can listen to all the songs covered in the Oricon flashback column so far on this Spotify playlist here.
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If we are pulling all modern references to “Rydeen,” I also have to share the band performance of the tune from the anime Hibike! Euphonium.