Issue #59: Hamidete!

Exploring the new YeYe album, Akina Nakamori's "Nanpasen," and the albums from the D4DJ franchise

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D4DJ as a multimedia franchise inspires curiosity through its overarching concept that revolves around a series of DJ units formed by students in fictional high schools and universities. There’s an anime, D4DJ First Mix, based on the 2D characters and a rhythm game, D4DJ Groovy Mix, using the franchise’s original tracks as well as cover songs. But me, I follow along for the music, which grabs from a wide spread of EDM styles across the various DJ units.

Personally, D4DJ helped me embrace EDM, specifically the festival-minded, Euro-trance-inspired dance music that emerged at the start of the 2010s—the kind popularized by the likes of Avicii, Swedish House Mafia and 11 Months-era Calvin Harris. More than a few units from the franchise adopts that EDC-friendly stadium-house production wholesale as their sound but presents it in a more idol-pop package, serving EDM similar to how a metal-idol group re-contextualize death metal into something more approachable. The strategy also represents their live shows performed by the voice actresses who play the respective characters: as an outsider looking in, their outdoor concerts resemble an Ultra festival for people (like me) who might not feel too comfortable stepping into an actual Ultra festival.

This year especially brought an abundance of D4DJ music with the franchise releasing full-length albums for six of their DJ units. With the last title for the year finally out, I thought it’s a good opportunity to look back at the 2022 releases. Rather than ranking the albums, or just go through them chronologically, this list will serve as a guide on where to start and which one to pursue next, starting from Photon Maiden. You are obviously welcome to skip around and start anywhere you wish. But for the uninitiated in D4DJ, or J-pop in general, this path might be a more organized route.

4 phenomena by Photon Maiden

*Recommended track: “Akatsuki (Fruits Mix V2)”

Voiced by: Haruki Iwata, Ami Maeshima, Hinata Sato, Risa Tsumugi

While Photon Maiden isn’t the group central to the story of the D4DJ First Mix anime, the unit stands in as a strong, balanced center for the franchise through their music. The four embraces EDM at its most wholesome and sincere: the grand-piano intro, the fuzzy drop and vocal splices that wraps around the synth burst in “We Never Stop” all turns to Porter Robinson as an inspiration, and the tender arrangement is built to maximize the earnestness flowing from the chorus: “We never stop singing / We never stop thinkin’ / We’re with you, so you don’t have to worry / about a new page in your journey.” Other tracks from 4 phenomena shows off edge and technique through more dynamic production tricks, but Photon Maiden’s main weapon is that disarming sincerity delivered through the softest yet most powerful of trance-pop.

Master Peace by Peaky P-Key

*Recommended track: “Let us sing ‘Peaky!’”

Voiced by: Aimi, Reo Kurachi, Moeka Koizumi, Miyu Takagi

Peaky P-Key represents a model of cool within the D4DJ universe by design. The unit’s songs are fueled by the charisma of its center member Kyoko, whose group inspires Rinku, the main protagonist of the D4DJ First Mix anime, to start her own DJ unit Happy Around. Voice actress Aimi might then have big shoes to fill being the voice of an idol-like figure like Kyoko, but oh, does she fill it: I don’t know if anyone else can convincingly deliver the catchphrase “Peaky time” as straight in character as she does. And as a vocalist, she gets to relish in the role as the focal point of both the group and its songs. The tracks often dedicates the space of the chorus to her mighty vocals, giving them the feel of a diva-led EDM anthem. If vocals appeal to you more than party-starting beats, Peaky P-key isn’t a bad place to start.

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For the second to last issue of the year, I decided to get a little self-indulgent with my love of D4DJ. If you want a BanG Dream! guide, I recommend you the ranking of every Bandori album by Dorian Sinclair, contributor and dear friend to the newsletter. Anyway, yes, this issue will be the last coverage of new music from This Side of Japan this year, and the next one, the actual last issue, is scheduled to be—spoiler alert—a flipped issue highlighting older Japanese music. We’re nearing the end, folks!

This issue’s Album of the Week should provide a nice palate cleanser from the big EDM noise of D4DJ. While we got some feelgood jams for Singles Club, I recommend you bring a box of tissues for listening to the song covered in the Oricon flashback.

Happy listening!

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Album of the Week

Hamidete! by YeYe [RALLYE / SPACE SHOWER MUSIC]

*Recommended track: “Tashikana Gogo” | Listen to it on Spotify

YeYe captured more vibes than personality in her music until she began working on her 2020 album, 30. “Before, I thought about my work while setting aside this attitude of ‘I'm just out here living an ordinary life,’ but now I feel fine putting everything of me into YeYe,” the singer-songwriter told Digle Magazine in 2020. Her records from 30 on strut along as if she has nothing to hide about her inspirations, spinning the seemingly mundane parts of her daily life into a cause for celebration. In her seventh album, Hamidete!, she sounds especially enamored of her current lifestyle, wishing to be present in no timeline other than the current.

The funk muscle behind YeYe as a project has strengthened considerably since her 2017 viral hit, the bashful, acoustic-driven single “Yurayura.” While the press hyped up her foray into hip-hop in the TENDRE-produced title track of last year’s Otona like a new direction, her jangling guitars had already found a companion in slick R&B beats in her creative pivot of a record, 30. The production of Hamidete! further locates a sweet stylistic middle between the golden soul nostalgia and the sun-baked hippie-funk favored by today’s city-pop-inspired acts like Ginger Root, who cameos here in “minamo ni, ice.” Grown from its tinny bedroom pop roots, the singer-songwriter’s soft vocals now breezes along a series of lively scenes.

The fresh blood flowing in the album’s vivacious funk plays key for the overarching sentiment of the record to genuinely resonate. “We don’t need explanations for everything while we keep on living / so if there’s no color, dye it yourself,” YeYe sings in the chorus of the radiating soul “Suttonkyo.” “Break through with your own response.” Much of the lyrics throughout embody a carefree spirit, lending a hand to another to help see the world through her eyes. The singer-songwriter’s soft-spoken voice may be at ease, but her lyrics often assume a declarative tone, much like the album title—step outside the lines! That said, she sets up a mood, from the sunny funk to her tender vocals, for it to seem stakes-free to subscribe into her worldview. She’s the friend nudging you to jump in the pool because it feels so much nicer to chill out in the cool water.

Nothing feels more fulfilling in the songs of Hamidete! than basking in the present moment. A melting heart turns literal in the enchanting “minami ni ice” as a lovely voice sends YeYe retreating deep in her feelings. “Now ‘my melting love’ spills out to the water,” she wistfully sighs in the chorus, indulging in a cheesy little pun; at one point, she remarks that even being bit by a mosquito would feel so soothing. A skip of piano and a throbbing bass line in “Look Around” are dedicated to just that, taking a gander at the surroundings. The freedom they provide brings a sense of tranquility to YeYe to the point of overwhelm: “I might have looked too much,” the singer-songwriter wonders in the chorus. But the hint of worry only emphasizes how a moment like it so rarely presents itself, adding more importance to her parting words about not taking the time for granted: “The you of today only lasts today.”

For all the happy-go-lucky attitude displayed in the music, the feelgood hooks of Hamidete! wouldn’t work as poignant as it does without the creeping anxieties that necessitate them. YeYe may luxuriate out in the sunshine in her songs, but her tracks don’t ignore reality and the busyness of life that holds people captive from enjoying the very leisure imagined in Hamidete! “It’s OK to rush, it’s OK to whine / rinse it however you like,” she consoles in the languid string-pop of “Dore Mo Utsukushii.” The bittersweet emotions, as YeYe reminds, is worth sitting with, too, to appreciate the vitality of the present. Hamidate! provides sweet escapism, but it’s better understood as a handed opportunity to take in a deep breath and be fully there in the current moment.

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Singles Club

“Foreigner” by Find Me Alone [self-released]

Find Me Alone in “Foreigner” understand that pop punk as a genre makes for a great vehicle to explore youthfulness as much as the bittersweet fading of it. The lyrics shade the otherwise charged riffs with a hint of melancholy as the band reminisces about their younger days and how invincible they once felt: “Sure could use a bit of that youthful arrogance I had many years ago,” they sing at one point, and the adrenaline-spiked music looms around them like a ghost of their greener past. The trio wear their insecurities on their sleeves, thrashing around with abandon as if to pummel through the glum.

Throw on Your Red Flannels and Old Skools Because We’re Going Back Home is out now. Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify.

See also: “Kichijoji” by ANORAK!; “Eighteen” by Someday’s Gone

“Shine on” by ItoShin [Fruit Parlor]

ItoShin maps out a chronological arc—10 p.m. to 5 a.m. to be exact—of a fantastic night out at the disco in the producer’s new full-length, Shine on. Slotted in as the centerpiece, the title track represents the peak of the moment with the mood and music locked into a sweet spot. The sampled diva vocals bask in the glitz and glamour oozing from the sticky house groove, hollering as if to claim their crown as the main star of the night. And if you’re just joining in from this track as the entry point, the atmosphere of the party has been already all warmed up—all you got to do now is enjoy the ride.

Shine on is out now. Listen to it on Bandcamp.

See also: “Lemonade” by Guchon; “Auto Translation” by Stones Taro

“Jaded” by Kuro ft. OMSB [Spincoaster]

The dusky R&B production of “Jaded” sets in a pensive atmosphere from the jump like a warning sign to what lies further down the song. Kuro approaches the sensitive track with caution, carefully navigating the conversation as if to avoid triggering any potential landmines. Though, it turns out that it’s ultimately her who keeps hush of important information: “Let’s break up / so we can meet the different versions of ourselves,” she sings at the end of her verse, her sigh playing down the weight that those lyrics contain. The downcast music already tells enough of how Kuro has accepted resignation even before she hears the reply. The nonchalance of the whole scenario only makes it more devastating.

hisui is out now. Listen to it on Spotify.

See also: “Jibun No Kigen Wa Jibun De Toru” by ASOBOiSM; “cruising memories” by FRIENDS

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This Week in 1987…

”Nanpasen” by Akina Nakamori [Warner Bros., 1987]

No. 1 during the week of Oct. 12, 1987 | Listen to it on Spotify/YouTube

“[Nakamori acted like] what’s so special about a break-up,” singer-songwriter Tokiko Kato recalled in 2019 on the TV show Music More about what quality struck her in Akina Nakamori as the person suited to sing “Nanpasen.” “I thought she was the coolest how she seemed to just strut along.” A non-single from her 1984 album, Saigo No Dance Party, “Nanpasen” had already been out for a few years when the singer-songwriter spotted Nakamori on TV respond unceremoniously to an MC wishing her a happy 22nd birthday. The idol’s cold shoulder resonated with Kato—“I felt it when she said, ‘I’m not happy at all’ with the most exhausted look on her face,” Kato wrote in her web column for Shunyodo Bookstore—and the singer-songwriter then sent her a cassette tape of the track on a whim. Nakamori eventually covered the song and released it as a single in 1987, landing it number one on the Oricon.

If Kato saw in Nakamori the spitting image of the protagonist of “Nanpasen,” it also sort of casts the idol as a fictional version of the singer-songwriter herself in her twenties. According to Kato, the lyrics were inspired by an actual relationship of hers when she was around Nakamori’s age. She recounted this year in her web column for Shunyodo Bookstore how she resisted giving up her independence as she fell head over heels for a man who had been courting many other women at the same time, and perhaps she saw a similar show of pride in the idol during that telecast.

Nakamori, however, embodies none of that coolness in her cover of “Nanpasen.” Her voice remains modest in the verses, though the restraint doesn’t register at all as a display of stoicism. The bleakness of it feels too sincere, too, to lump it as a similar piece of performance as the more suave ends in her preceding singles like “Blonde” or “Gypsy Queen.” Her smoky whisper instead sounds like someone truly at the end of their road. The string arrangements paint the track into a funereal ballad, and the cavernous production makes Nakamori seem as though she’s wandering in purgatory. “I want to sink you into the bottom of the ocean,” she sings in the chorus. The music already sets the scene to what that darkness might sound and feel like.

“I remember writhing about the break-up even though I was the one who broke it off,” Kato wrote in her Shunyodo Bookstore column. “And 20 years later, I wrote that memorable scene into ‘Nanpasen.’” As forlorn as she sounds in her original song, she also gives an upright performance as though she has taken the relationship in stride: “With a line like that, without even looking back / that morning that I broke it off / I wouldn’t have understood of this sadness,” she sings but not with as regret than bitter resignation like she has fully accepted to bear her cross. Her wizened voice suggests some distance from the sorrow of the lyrics, and the string arrangements provide the sharp chorus with an even more poetic aura. Kato’s original take ultimately seems to focus more on trying to exhume the memory of a relationship than the void immediately left from the break-up.

Nakamori, meanwhile, sounds as though she’s still deeply stricken by grief as if it all happened yesterday. The memory of her relationship still feels raw and vivid, and her wound even more fresh. She tries to muster the above-it-all cool that Kato once saw in her, but it falls flat: “All this tough talk / is so I can forget you,” she sighs, and her vocals lightly tremble in the latter lyrics as though she can see through her own bullshit. Her obsession with her lover still remains so feverish, and the emotional void feels so enormous, that it’s hard to believe that it was not him who suddenly severed ties—who would choose to go down this path on their own accord?

If Kato’s “Nanpasen” imagines the song’s protagonist as a woman who’s burdened yet wiser from the experience, Nakamori sings about a helpless fool in love harboring a practically fatal attraction. Delivered in such a hopeless, shriveled voice, you fear she’d actually commit on drowning with her love to the bottom of the ocean. But what lends the tragic ballad to cut even deeper is her gesturing to a self-awareness about her melodramatic self. “Just because I lost a lover / everything disappeared,” Nakamori sighs toward the end. That just does some heavy lifting, like how she feels so stupid to be left devastated about something seemingly mundane from everyone else looking in. Not even the stoic Akina Nakamori, it turns out, is impervious to the influence of love.

You can listen to all of the songs covered in this section (or what’s available) on this Spotify playlist.

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