Extended Optics: A Look into the Koh-Gaku EPs
A detailed dive into the five EPs by the production unit assembled by Tsudio Studio, HIRO.JP and SNJO
This feature is part of This Side of Japan issue #68. You can return to the main newsletter here.
Self-production has been at the conceptual heart of Koh-Gaku since Tsudio Studio launched the project in 2020 with label mates HIRO.JP and SNJO. But as Tsudio Studio wrote in an intro blog post, the inspiration behind their endeavor seemed less about the music-production process itself but how being self-sufficient can leverage new creative opportunities.
“I don’t think I’m being too out there to say it’s popular now to produce music all on the computer,” he wrote on his site in 2020. “This method doesn’t call for a big budget or studio, so there’s a lot of people who write, compose and arrange all of the music. I thought it’d be great to have an all-rounded music-production team suited for the music-making of the times, where producers aren’t just waiting for a call from a client and can use their abilities to the fullest for their own good.”
The main appeal behind Koh-Gaku lies on how they take it on their own to call upon new collaborators, centering each new release on a different vocalist. Every guest so far has inspired from the three a different take of their settled core aesthetic of synth-funk and R&B, and the same goes for the other way around with the vocalists granted a chance to explore a realm of production outside of their familiar zone. The whole project presents an ideal, thrilling result from collaboration: everyone involved participates in a creation of something new and exciting, highlighting each other in the process.
For this issue’s Album of the Week, we dedicate the section to dig into each of the five EPs by Koh-Gaku in chronological order. The EPs have been consistently strong in quality while doubling as a fine introduction to its respective guests and their own works. (I didn’t have time to dedicate space for it, but be sure to check out the solo works of the three as well!) With their fifth entry in collaboration with singer Mandark out earlier this month, it’s a good time as any to highlight the releases of Tsudio Studio, HIRO.JP and SNJO’s pet project.
Opto1: Takano Unico
Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify
The first Opto EP naturally serves as a fine introduction to the sounds and concepts that inform the Koh-Gaku project. An interest in throwback funk and boogie shared between the three’s individual works form into the unit’s collective sound. That said, each producer contributes a slightly varied take that reveals his specific fixations within the defined style. While HIRO.JP goes for a straight recreation of hi-fi MOR in “Midnight Blue” that radiates with analog warmth, Tsudio Studio’s electro-funk for “Night Walk Party” glows from its digital slickness. SNJO’s angular, New Jack Swing-flavored pop in “Touch” meets them in the middle.
Had the trio been left to their own devices, their retro-funk obsessions can easily lend the resulting music to become a period piece. Takano Unico as Koh-Gaku’s first guest vocalist balances the unit out, though she doesn’t reel them back to reality than transports them instead to her world. She deals with a similar ‘80s-dreaming electro-pop sound in her own project NECO ASOBI; Tsudio Studio’s “Night Walk Party” from Opto1 gets the closest to the songs included in the singer’s PSR B1919+21 EP. But her music feels modern as it’s, ironically, more willfully steeped in the sounds but also the idea of nostalgia, especially as her dreamy vocals turns wistful, like she’s missing a memory or sensation she never actually experienced. Her presence in Opto1, too, brings in the sort of escapist relationship with styles and sounds of the past, with her and Koh-Gaku tipping its toe into another era of music but still firmly operating from vantage point of today.
See also: PSR B1919+21 by NECO ASOBI (self-released, 2020)
Opto2: Miho Tsujibayashi
Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify
If we can consider the music of Koh-Gaku operating in the binary of the analog and digital, Opto2 basks in the former end of their stylistic poles. The decision to do so is partly inspired by the EP’s guest, Miho Tsujibayashi. Her solo releases like 2019’s Ombre share an affinity for pop nostalgia as her collaborators, though her neo-Shibuya-kei songs reach for a slightly different definition of retro, a lane farther away from post-disco R&B. The second entry to the project opts for a tender, graceful funk, snuffing out the more strident ends of the synthesizer and drum machine.
Given his contribution in the previous Opto EP, HIRO.JP perhaps as expected excels at this assignment: he crafts a lush lite-jazz pop in “Yurameku” that rocks as dreamily as the title suggests. The chosen aesthetic ground, meanwhile, pushes Tsudio Studio to get experimental in “You,” transporting Tsujibayashi into an ethereal realm made of faint wisps of synths and flutes with hardly any percussive anchor. SNJO also indulges in a balm drift, but he can’t help but lure his guest vocalist to the dance floor. Even as their collaborator nudges them into different terrains, Koh-Gaku keeps their individualities intact.
See also: Ombre by Miho Tsujibayashi (FLY HIGH, 2019)
Opto3: Neibiss
Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify
After Koh-Gaku flexed their production chops in Opto2, the trio stylistically swung into the opposite direction, indulging in hip hop to load up some party-ready music. And rap duo Neibiss fit right in as the guest MCs of the third Opto entry: while ‘90s boom-bap make up their roots in beat-making and rapping, their albums like 2021’s Sample Preface showcase a group eager to ride eccentric rhythms. The duo’s hyunis1000 in particular proves nimble as a rapper, his freewheeling flows constantly adapting to his environment. It’s no surprising to find them sometimes seek out electronic-pop acts for beats to rap over.
Tsudio Studio’s “Do What” kicks the EP open with a breath of fresh air. The song’s slinky, UKG-esque percussion introduces the project a new, enticing sense of rhythm, especially following the calmer synth-pop tracks from the preceding EPs. “Do what? Something fun of course,” Neibiss rap in the chorus as they tease drinking and dancing for the night’s itenrary, and they continue to zoom through the beat as they go with their verse. HIRO.JP and SNJO chip in, too, with mellow talk-box funk and neon-lit hip-hop, respectively. For how natural the party all sounds, it’s a wonder Koh-Gaku waited 3 EPs in to finally indulge.
See also: Sample Preface by Neibiss (self-released, 2021)
Opto4: Utae
Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify
The visual language of Koh-Gaku scans undeniably retro with their cover art, all designed by SNJO, featuring a link to technology and the arts of the recent past. The same could have been once said about the music with much of it sourcing materials often associated with early synth-pop, but the unit curiously resists applying a retro sheen to its songs for the fourth Opto record. The solo work of featured guest Utae has certainly favored the hyper-current, her songs wrapped in more odd, wonky, sometimes cryptic textures: the synthetic hyperrealism behind the cover art of her latest single “Ivyness” captures the surreal feel of the glitching R&B song.
The three of Koh-Gaku might not completely overhaul their style: the fat, sticky electro-funk of “Wave” that’s assembled by all three wholly represents their house sound that warmly welcomes Utae as its guest. But efforts like the future-bass-esque production of “Shower” or the subtly broken beat of “Who am I?” reveal a new, if not contemporary show of hand from a seemingly retro-obsessed crew of producers without sacrificing too much of their identity. Four EPs in, they tease the fact that they got a lot more under their sleeves than what they’ve shared so far.
See also: “Ivyness” by Utae (self-released, 2023)
Opto5: Mandark
Listen to it on Bandcamp/Spotify
The curation of its guests matters as much as the music for Koh-Gaku with their chosen collaborator giving a sense of the respective sound even before one listens to it. If you’ve been following the work of Mandark, you can safely guess that she inspires the trio to head back to their center for their collaboration. The balmy funk behind the singer’s We Were So Young EP needs only a few tweaks in boldness and saturation to match the rubbery disco of Opto5 that wouldn’t feel out of place in a nu-city-pop playlist. Wipe down the tears and brighten her up from the melodrama of last year’s “I miss you when I’m drunk” and you’re also almost there.
While listening through all of Koh-Gaku’s EPs, I wondered when exactly does their collaborators get chosen. Do they choose who they wish to work with and then craft the production around them, or do they build the rough sketches of the vibe they want to pursue next and see who best fits the music? The EPs so far feel very tailored to the identity of its called-upon vocalist so I imagine it’s the former, and if so, with Opto5, the unit suggests that they got a vast wish list of collaborators with them now looking outside of Japan. The possibility for a wide choice of guests on offer bring out another facet of music production facilitated by the advent of making music via the computer: not only does it expand what you can make, it also opens up who you can work with. Seeing how global collaborations are becoming in J-pop, Koh-Gaku embraces another production norm in Opto5.
See also: We Were So Young by Mandark (Fortune Cookie, 2021)
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