[Interview] Akiko Yano

Trained as a jazz pianist since childhood, Akiko Yano has gone on to establish herself as an extraordinarily singular and iconic songwriter, singer, pianist, and performer. Her 1976 debut record, Japanese Girl, was shocking to listeners accustomed to the wispy, subdued sounds of Japanese idol pop, incorporating her sense of humor, unrestrained joy, and technical skill as a pianist and improvisor. She went on to collaborate extensively with Yellow Magic Orchestra and Ryuichi Sakamoto, touring with YMO as a keyboardist in the early 80s. While making her own highly idiosyncratic and genre-bending records, Yano collaborated with Pat Metheny, Lyle Mays, Little Feat, Rei Harakami, Japan, David Sylvian, Thomas Dolby, Kenji Omura, Anthony Jackson, and many others, while also composing songs for Rajie, Manna, Kimiko Kasai, Chiemi Manabe, and many memorable commercial music scores. Today she has released 27 full length records and still performs regularly in New York City, where she lives. One of her most celebrated early works, Tadaima, is forthcoming as a reissue from Wewantsounds, marking the first in a series of reissues of Yano’s cult-following favorites. It’s available for preorder here, and tickets for her upcoming New York show with Seiho are available here.

Interview by Patrick South of Ice Choir

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Hello, Yano-san? This is Patrick. I’m so happy to be speaking with you today. How are you?

I’m good, thank you.

Great. Let’s get right to it! Since Tadaima is getting reissued, I’m curious about your impressions of it now. Looking back on it, what do you think you were trying to do with this album?

That’s a good question. It was released in 1981, right after I made a kind of hit, “春咲小紅” (Harusaki Kobeni)—which was included on Tadaima—so everyone was expecting a really nice, catchy pop album. But I didn’t want to be like that. I didn’t picture myself as a pop artist. So I did what I wanted. (laughs) In its own way, the sound is still really catchy and pop. I still really love this record, actually.

Yeah—it sounds to me like you were taking a slight turn away from, for example, your previous record ごはんができたよ (Gohan Ga Dekitayo), which had YMO on most of the tracks. Whereas on this one you’re incorporating more styles…

Right.

It’s a little bit more like your earlier albums, but taken in a different direction. Adding new wave, jazz, the children’s poems. I’m really interested in “Rose Garden.” It’s got an Okinawan influence, right? Is that Tsugaru?

Yeah, it’s a mixture of a lot cultures. “Rose Garden” was…I’m trying to remember. I wanted to incorporate Japanese traditional percussion. That’s the main source of the sound. I also added more pop and Japanese festival sounds, like Omatsuri. Kiyohiko Semba plays percussion on the song. He’s real.

You grew up in Aomori—do you think this had a big impact on your musical taste? I know it was an influence on your first album, Japanese Girl.

When I lived in Aomori, I didn’t listen to min’yō—the really traditional Japanese folk music that Aomori is famous for. Back then, I wasn’t interested in it yet. The first time that I appreciated that I grew up in such a musically rich place was right before I made Japanese Girl. So I revisited Aomori musically, and I listened to min’yō a lot. And then I made “津軽ツアー” (Tsugaru Tour), one of the songs I wrote based on the Tsugaru min’yō.

You recorded Tadaima at Sound City in Tokyo, with Sakamoto, Takahashi, Yuji Nakamura on bass, Tsuchiya, and Hideki Matsutake. I’m curious about what the sessions of writing and recording these songs were like. Did it differ from some of your other albums? Was it difficult, or a fun atmosphere?

It was so easy to work with those guys. The bassist, Nakamura-kun, was new to me, but he was very nice, so I decided to tour with him and Tsuchiya-kun, the guitarist. The drummer was Shuichi “Ponta” Murakami. It was a more live-oriented band, and we had fun. It was the biggest tour that I ever had.

What I like about your music is, even on Gohan Ga Dekitayo, which people think of as techno-pop…I just listened to it again, and it really is live. You know, it’s a live sound—everyone’s playing their instruments…it’s kind of disco.

I think playing with YMO cultivated that aspect of it. I didn’t have any experience playing in an even rhythm, which is the basis of the techno-pop. But, since I was 10 or 11 years old, I had been playing jazz, and…what do you call it…

Improvising?

Yeah! Improvising. Improvisation is my passion. It’s my nature. And so, especially Tadaima and Gohan Ga Dekitayo, those records are kind of the basis of this sound and music that I’m doing right now, like Welcome to Jupiter. They’re a mixture of improvisation and a more pop-oriented sound. I still love that mixture.

Yeah, even when you use synthesizers, it feels very organic, I think.

I was into more machines and engineering, operating synthesizers and electronics in the ’80s. (laughs) After the digital synthesizers came out, I gave up.

Yeah, it seems as if you sort of pulled away. I wanted to ask about the song “いらないもん” (Iranaimon). It’s an Onuki Taeko song, and it’s not really characteristic of her style. I’m curious how it came together.

Well, originally it was a very nice ballad. Of course, she’s one of my favorite writers. She’s amazing. (laughing) I was thinking about a more radical way to do it, so it would differ from a more typical Onuki Taeko song. It ended up being one of the most avant-garde things I did.

I love how intentional that move was. I know you’ve interpreted other Onuki songs, like “海と少年” (Umi to Shonen) and “Oh Dad” you did on Elephant Hotel. And you also have a new single with her?

Yes. I sing with her in an authentic way. (laughs) We’ve known each other since our late teens.

I want to ask a little more about “春咲小紅” (Harusaki Kobeni). It’s this joyous, energetic song with strings and bubbly textures. You’re a jazz musician and improviser, so I’m wondering, when you do these really catchy pop songs…I have the sheet music to the song, so I recreated it on my computer and I was listening to the chords under the melody. And to me, there are really interesting tensions with the melody. Are there ways that you sneak jazz and improv into these pop songs? Because to me, compositionally, they don’t sound like typical pop songs.

Hmm…interesting. When it comes to “Harusaki Kobeni,” I was thinking only about the commercial aspect of it, since it was a lipstick commercial.

Oh, so they asked you before you wrote the song?

Oh yeah! The words came first—they were written by Shigesato Itoi. Then I wrote the song. I remember now. It was a competition with other artists, and I think I won. (laughs) Back then, writing a commercial was one of the most effective ways to get people’s attention.

Right, you have a bunch of commercial music songs. Some of them were chosen after they were released, right? Like “ラーメンたべたい” (Ramen Tabetai).

Right, Myojo Foods used my song. To be honest with you, I really enjoy writing commercial songs. And it was well-paid. (laughs) Often they would give me a lot of creative freedom, so I really enjoyed it.

To me they fit in with your other music, too, and it seems like you usually included the songs on your albums. I was curious about this one song “Isetan-tan” from Go Girl. I know there was an advertisement a few years ago where you redid the song. Did they ask you to redo it?

No. I just did it for myself. Isetan department store is one of my favorites, and was also my family’s favorite department store. I was practically raised in Isetan. (laughing) Actually, I wrote two songs for Isetan—the other one is “Isetan-tan-tan!” I’m a devoted customer.

Around this time, you were also writing some great songs for other artists. You wrote “みどりの声” (Midori no Koe) for Rajie, and “Gotanda” for Manna.

Oh my god, how do you know these songs?

Because…I’m definitely a music nerd.

Yeah, you’re officially a nerd! (laughs) Oh my god, oh my god.

That’s why I was asked to do the interview, because they know I’m a nerd about this stuff. You did some songs for some pop idols too, like Hiromi Go, Tsukasa Ito, Seiko Matsuda. They’re always interesting artists. How did these songwriting spots come about? Did you like writing for other people?

I always enjoyed it, yes, but it was never my idea—they would always come to me. Maybe it was because they wanted something out of the ordinary.

Ah, I see. To me, they seem like they could have been your own songs. Rajie, Manna, those are some of my favorite albums. The Rajie track is so cool.

Really? I’m glad to hear that. And also…oh my goodness. In the ’80s my children were still young. My daughter was born in 1980, so I was really busy raising children and taking care of house chores. I couldn’t go out and tour. Being able to work from home was the most convenient, so writing songs for others worked out well.

So, during the late ’80s, during Japan’s bubble era, you’re releasing albums like 峠のわが家 (Touge no Wagaya), Welcome Back, Love Life, and you start exploring this jazzier, airy pop-rock sound. And even before you moved to New York, you had been working with New York musicians like Anthony Jackson, Pat Metheny, Charlie Haden. Other people were going in a new direction, creating more highly produced, mechanical, dance-oriented music. I wonder, was your music reflecting or rejecting this bubble era in Japan? Were you turning away from it?

Hmm. I never thought about the connection between economic events and my music. (laughs) But as I mentioned, I was spending more time with my family and in ’86 and ’87. I took a year and a half off of music to focus on my family. During that time I was just a music fan, a music listener. So I listened to what I wanted to hear, and it was jazz. When I started making music again, I decided to follow my nature, and Welcome Back is one of the results.

Do you think your approach to songwriting changed a little?

The approach to songwriting was the same, but I think the sound was more weighed on improvisation.

I really like a lot of your ’90s music. It sounds really open and deep to me. I think these people you chose to work with, like Anthony Jackson, Pat Metheny—they’re not just great at their instruments; they also have a unique character, a unique voice.

Yeah, and I really appreciated that they agreed to play with me! Eventually, you know, they became my life-long friends.

Image courtesy of Midi Inc.

I wanted to ask a little about a frequent collaborator of yours, Haruomi Hosono. I know you worked together in the ’70s, and it seems that you reconnected with him on Reverb in 2002. And you’ve covered many of his songs, like his Happy End songs on Granola. What about his music speaks to you?

I only can say that his music is his music. It’s a mixture of so many cultural and musical references. But once he sings his songs, it becomes his music. He’s the originator of his own sound, and his voice is so expressive.

You both have an appreciation for different types of folk music, and you both have this playful quality. A quirkiness. Is that true, do you think?

Well, both of us love old songs. I think he can be more of a critic of those ’30s, ’40s, ’50s songs. He knows so much about it. So when we play together, we pick something from that era. A lot of the time it’ll be music that I don’t know, but what he picks is always so interesting and so funny, so good. I love his taste.

I know you two did the Akiko Yano and Tin Pan Alley Satogaeru live shows, and I think I read in an interview with Hosono that he was worried about being able to keep up with you during the show.

Well, sometimes he fools himself, like “I’m too old to play,” things like that. But of course it’s not true. Especially right now, he’s really up and running.

He definitely is. So, let’s see…in the United States, and I think everywhere outside Japan, ’70s and ’80s Japanese music has become somewhat of a phenomenon in the past decade, maybe thanks to YouTube. It’s become this inspiration for musicians and graphic artists—they had no idea this world of music existed. Even in Brooklyn, there’s this Japanese record store called Face Records. It’s a store in Japan, but they opened a shop this year in Brooklyn. They have your records; I see them on the wall.

Really? Wow.


Yeah, it’s crazy. Have you felt this resurgence of interest in your music?

Um, I think I’m kind of an object of interest. But, more and more, when I play in New York City, I see more and more American people coming in to check out my music. So, that’s an interesting tide to me.

Part of of the reason I’m asking is because on your latest albums, 飛ばしていくよ (Tobashite Iku Yo) and Welcome to Jupiter, you started working with these electronic producers, like Seiho, tofubeats, Azumi Hitomi. It seems like they’re inspired by the music you were making in the ’80s. I’m curious if more techno producers are contacting you.

Actually, I requested them. Working with these younger, more techno-oriented musicians was the idea of one of my staff. And Rei Harakami was my—is my buddy.

Yanokami.

Yeah, making music with him was so special. But he’s gone, and I had kind of given up playing with techno musicians. But these younger musicians are so eager to make new music, and I really love their attitude. I really enjoyed all of them.

This show you’re doing with Seiho—you two did a remake of “Tong Poo” together. Are you going to revisit more of your old songs with him?

Yeah, I think we’re going to do a couple of old songs. We’re going to talk about it this weekend, actually. (laughs)

I’m curious about your interest in synthesizers and sound design in general. Your very first song on Japanese Girl気球にのって (Kikyu ni Notte) features a very prominent, expressive Arp synthesizer line. And then on Welcome to Jupiter, there’s “モスラの歌” (Mosura no Uta) and “颱風” (Typhoon) where you have these synth textures—and then you worked with Harakami, Makoto Yano, Sakamoto, Jeff Bova—musicians who are known for their sound design. Do you think synthesizers and sound design are an important element of your music?

I do. Right now, I don’t have much time to develop or research these machines, or how I could make my own music with those machines. But I always have a sound vision in my head. I never lose it. All I need is the right person to help me to make those sounds in my head real.

I see. So you describe the sounds you’re after?

Yes. Right now, I have a really good guy, Hideyuki Fukasawa, in Tokyo. I really enjoy working with him.

Is he on any of your recent albums? Is he on Welcome to Jupiter?

Yes. Also—this is kind of a sneak preview, but I recently got to know Reed Hays. He’s an amazing synthesizer player and producer. He released two albums, and he works with his classmate. Their band’s name is Reed & Caroline, and they’re making records under Vince Clarke, from Erasure. I think you’ll like it.

What else has been inspiring you lately, musically?

I still love old American root music. I really enjoy the new songs of Boz Scaggs. The blues.

I haven’t heard his very latest, but I’ve heard some of his recent records, and they’re very cool. I like his old stuff too, a lot. I know your album Akiko has a lot of that sort of roots sound. T Bone Burnett. Did you listen to the new Jon Batiste? His new album is produced by T Bone.

Really?

Yeah. You might like it. Something else I wanted to ask about is how some of the last songs on your albums, like “Rose Garden,” “てぃんさぐぬ花” (Chinsagu no Hana), “Little Girl, Giant Heart,” “おおきいあい (Ookii Ai)—they give a feeling of courage and hope, like a marching song. They seem to be inspiration to go out and face the world. Do you like to end albums on an uplifting note?

Mmm. That’s something I’ve been thinking about over the past few years. I’ve been making music that’s exactly what I want to make, what I want to hear. But slowly I’ve been realizing, “Wait a minute, I need an audience, and the reason I’m here is that there’s always someone listening to my music.” So I’m becoming more focused on the audience—sometimes I even picture myself as an audience. I really enjoy, for example, blues, and other kinds of depressing music, dark sounds; but I can’t listen to them all the time. Eventually, we need to be encouraged by music. Music that uplifts you is really powerful.

That’s what I like about your albums—they’re never the same all the way through. They’re different styles, different genres. I never get bored. It’s unnatural to listen to only happy songs.

Yeah. It’s like eating a variety of foods—music is the same.

OK, well, I think we can wrap this up. I just want to thank you so much for speaking with me.

Oh, thank you so much. I really appreciate that you’ve been a longtime fan of my music.

It’s easy to be. You have so much. It was a bit scary trying to cover it all. I didn’t cover it all, but you know, little parts. Thank you, Yano-san. I’m looking forward to seeing you at your show next month.

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Thanks to Akiko Yano, Patrick South, Matt Robin, and Wewantsounds for
facilitating this interview. Text has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Susan – Do You Believe In Mazik, 1980

Classic favorite. A singer, actress, model, and TV personality, Susan (Suzan Nozaki) was born in Japan to a Japanese mother and a French-American father, and as a teenager worked widely in commercials, radio, theater, and voiceover. This was the first of two records she released on Sony with a dream team: production, arrangement, and drums by Yukihiro Takahashi, co-production and guitar by Kenji Ohmura, programing by Hideki Matsutake, bass by Haruomi Hosono, keyboards by Ryuichi Sakamoto, cover photo by Masayoshi Sukita, etc.

It is, as you might imagine from its context, a raucous, scronky, brilliant pop record. The 60’s referentiality shows up not just in the title track, a Lovin’ Spoonful cover, but also in the surf and garage rock sensibility of the songwriting (“24,000回のキッス,” “Dream Of You”) and the proclivity towards psychy vocal processing–though of course the overall texture and programming speak very loudly to 1980. The record’s best moments evidence both decades simultaneously: “Ah! Soka” flits between dry electro synth verses and choruses of reverb-soaked psychy guitar pop. My favorite is closer “Screamer,” with a very YMO churning and whirring percussive backbone underneath warped, spacious vocal layering–at almost seven minutes long, by the time it’s over I always wish it would keep rolling for a few more minutes. Still, nothing ever feels gimmicky or formulaic–there are too many thoughtful details for that. I hope you love this as much as I do!

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World Standard – World Standard, 1985

Another one from the understatedly brilliant Soichiro Suzuki, aka World Standard. This is a completely different beast from the last of his records that I posted–it’s effectively lyricless, and is less a pop record than it is a somewhat anonymous amalgam of different folk traditions (though there’s plenty of Japanese folk in here). Hosono provides production and sounds; Hosono would later go on to release Soichiro Suzuki’s also excellent World Standard II on his then new FOA label.

This record is deceptive, heartbeaking, and again, understated–I think I probably heard it two or three times before I properly listened to it. It doesn’t command attention, but once it gets its hooks in you, they’re stuck. A slew of string instruments from all over, very tasteful percussion, and gorgeous wordless vocal layering courtesy of Pizzicato V (!) and Sandii (!). Alternately playful (opener “太陽とダァリヤ,” which, in perfect Hosono form, has an abrupt Beach Boys-esque reverb vocal harmony breakdown), moody (“逝ける王女のためのパヴァーヌ” is an appropriately cinematic version of Ravel‘s “Pavane pour une infante défunte”), and deeply emotive (“水夫たちの歌声” has left me in tears a few times). There’s something reminiscent of Penguin Café Orchestra–the music is pastoral and very evocative, but it’s not totally clear of where or what, and it feels oddly timeless. Weightless and heavy-hitting. If it’s for you, it’s definitely for you.

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Haruomi Hosono – 花に水 (Watering A Flower), 1984

In recognition of today’s vernal equinox, I wanted to share a cult classic from the Hosono catalog, originally commissioned in 1983 as background music by Muji shortly after the opening of their first storefront in Tokyo. The tape was packaged in a box set with an 80 page booklet, including photographs, an interview with Hosono, haiku, and work by Nakazawa Shinichi (who I assume made the cover art, though I’m not sure). The story goes that Muji only used one of the tracks for in-store purposes (presumably “Muji Original BGM,” previewed below), and while the tape is still hyper-rare, since then the music has circulated widely online, most famously on YouTube, and has been presented with several different track listings, some including two different versions of “Talking.” I’m including all four tracks here, though the original tape ostensibly only included “Talking” and “Growth.”

Sonically, these tracks are exemplary of Hosono’s brilliance with motif, minimalism, and movement. Those who are familiar with his records Mercuric Dance and Paradise View might find Watering A Flower to sit squarely between the two, both in terms of textural density and mood. The songs are sparse, to put it lightly–bare bones, really. They’re not as neutral, or even chipper, as one might expect for storefront use: they willfully stray into eerie, dissociative territory, suggesting hypnosis and foggy, dreamlike states. Dreamlike in the more honest sense of the word, as I think dreams are often more illogical, dry, and bizarre than the word “dreamlike” gives them credit for. Though the whole tape is beatless–a sacrilegious suggestion for the 2018 retail environment–“Talking” is marked by the insistent chiming of a metronomic tone; whereas in “Growth” the chime is slowed down and flooded with reverb, suggesting underwater sonar. Hosono doesn’t hesitate to lean into dissonance and atonality, and it’s plenty disorienting.

Still, by the time the appropriately drily titled “Muji Original BGM” arrives, Hosono has reminded us that he’s very good at making things that are very beautiful. For sixteen minutes the song cycles, mantric, through small variations on two different phrases, one much moreso than the other, and it’s weightless, unhurried, deeply affecting, and perfect. I’d love to go shopping for minimalist home goods in this world, though I’m not sure that I’d buy anything. Enjoy, and happy spring!

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[Mix for Self-Titled] OMG Japan 2: Japanese Pop 1980-1989

cover art by Jeff Velker (SC / Twitter)

I’m very pleased to finally share Volume 2 of the OMG Japan mix via Self-Titled Mag.

That proclivity towards inventive genre splicing is all over this mix, actually, perhaps most noticeably as a reggae influence in three very different incarnations. First, Akiko Yano’s steel drum-flecked synth-reggae cupcake “Ashkenazy Who?” is replete with gleefully gnashed vocals, twisted and slung in the mouth as if to mimic warped synth pulses. Next, Junko Yagami leans even more explicitly into reggae fusion on “ジョハナスバーグ” (“Zyohanasubargu,” i.e. a Romanization of the Japanese pronunciation of Johannesburg), a thick synth-funk ode to a global love for reggae, winking with drum machines and synthetic accordian. Last is Pecqre’s “Kylyln,” a spaced-out dub rendition of a song originally written by Ryuichi Sakamoto for Kazumi Watanabe, which comes from one of the most slept-on records in the Japanese canon. It was largely recorded in Jamaica at Channel One and Tuff Gong Studio on a trip organized by Bob Marley himself, as the story goes, at the urging of drummer and diehard reggae fan Masahito Hashido (aka Pecqre). It’s an incredible lineup: between Aston Barrett and Robbie Shakespeare on bass, Carly Barrett and Sly Dunbar on percussion, Minako Yoshida’s lead vocals, and Marcia Griffiths and Judy Mowatt singing back-up, one can only dream of being a fly on the wall during those sessions.

Read the rest HERE, and if you like it, you can download an mp3 version HERE.

Tracklist:
1. Tabo’s Project – Feel
2. Imitation – Narcisa
3. Jimmy Murakawa – Down? Down, Down! / Stay Outta My World
4. Zabadak – 蝶
5. Akiko Yano – Ashkenazy Who?
6. Junko Ohashi – I Love You So
7. Junko Yagami – Zyohanasubargu
8. Tatsuro Yamashita – Love Talkin’ (Honey It’s You)
9. Yukihiro Takahashi – Konchu-Ki
10. Sandii & The Sunsetz – The Serious Game
11. Pizzicato V – The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)
12. Pecqre – Kylyn
13. Joe Hisaishi – The Winter Requiem
14. dip in the pool – Rabo Del Sol
15. Masami Tsuchiya – Never Mind
16. Mami Koyama – Love Song
17. Toshifumi Hinata – サラズ・クライム
18. Ayuo Takahashi ft. Koharu Kisagari – 流れる
19. Hiroko Yakushimaru – 透明なチューリップ (Transparent Tulip)

[Mix for NTS Radio] Hosono Day

I’m very, very excited to share a two hour mix I made of Haruomi Hosono‘s work, which was a contribution to NTS Radio’s Hosono Day last weekend (here’s to hoping it becomes an annual tradition). As you might imagine, this was simultaneously a joy and a total nightmare to make, as Hosono has contributed to over 900 releases and has refused to be hampered by genre–so rather than trying to pick one vicinity and stay there, I instead tried to find a through-line between my Hosono favorites all over the map. Happily, this selection also gives proper airtime to his fascination with Indian instrumentation–Bollywood, Indian classical, folk, and everywhere in between. At the risk of sounding sentimental, I found myself moved to tears more than once while working on this, as it’s astounding to be confronted by the weight of his genius and innovation while sifting through his archives.

And–there’s more! The lineup of contributors to Hosono Day include some of my favorite artists, labels, and curators, so it was a real thrill to be included among them and to hear so many different expressions of Hosono–I would encourage you to listen to all of it. Happy listening, and a belated happy Hosono Day! You can download an mp3 version of it here.

Tracklist:
1. Haruomi Hosono – Hum Ghar Sajan
2. Haruomi Hosono – The Animal’s Opinion
3. Yellow Magic Orchestra – Seoul Music
4. Haruomi Hosono – Luminescent/Hotaru (edit)
5. Susan – Ah! Soka
6. F.O.E. – Total Eclipse
7. Haruomi Hosono – Laugh-Gas (edit)
8. Love, Peace & Trance – Hush – A Mandala Ni Påli
9. Haruomi Hosono – 若紫
10. Haruomi Hosono – Muji Original Background Music
11. Haruomi Hosono – Air-Condition
12. Haruomi Hosono – Sunnyside Of The Water
13. Interior – Luft
14. Inoyama Land – Wässer
15. World Standard – Pasio (edit)
16. Haruomi Hosono, Shigeru Suzuki & Tatsuro Yamashita – スラック·キー·ルンバ (Slack Key Rhumba)
17. Akiko Yano – Tong Poo
18. Tatsuro Yamashita – Rainy Walk
19. Yukihiro Takahashi – Sea Change
20. Mickey Curtis – Tengoku No Yoru
21. Chiemi Manabe – ねらわれた少女
22. Dark Ducks – Dandy Dandy
23. H.I.S. – Nihon No Hito (Japanese People)
24. Hiroshi Sato – Jo-Do
25. Harry Hosono & The Yellow Magic Band – Worry Beads
26. Pizzicato V – The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin’ Groovy)
27. Haruomi Hosono – Sports Men
28. Sandii – Zoot Kook
29. Hiroko Yakushimaru – 透明なチューリップ (Transparent Tulip)

Haruomi Hosono – 源氏物語 (The Tale of Genji), 1987

Another favorite from the Hosono canon. This was the score for the first animated adaptation of The Tale of Genji, a sprawling piece of 11th century literature written by noblewoman Shikibu Murasaki, considered by many to be the first modern novel in recorded history. (Isao Tomita later write his own symphonic adaptation of the story.) The anime was directed by Gisaburō Sugii, and while it only covers a small part of the epic storyline, the score is highly ambitious.

Scan courtesy of Kaleidophonics

Unlike much of Hosono’s catalogue, here synthesizer mostly acts as an atmospheric texture and instead puts traditional Japanese instruments, particularly koto, flute, and drums, front and center. What’s really astounding about this soundtrack is the layering of instruments, piling them up until they become unfamiliar: droves of fingerpicked strings sound like a hive of insects, waves of gentle hand percussion feel like the swells of inhales and exhales, processed flute suggests the shrieking wind. Despite a pervasive mysteriousness, and even ominousness, this is unmistakably gorgeous music, and structured in such a way that it will appeal to fans of more conventional synthetic ambient music–but retains a feverish futurist-classical elegance all its own.

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Haruomi Hosono, Shigeru Suzuki & Tatsuro Yamashita – Pacific, 1978

A classic. While Hosono needs no introduction around here, I’m realizing that Tatsuro Yamashita has perhaps not been given enough air time. For the unfamiliar, Yamashita is iconic in his own right, not just because of his classic Japanese Christmas favorite “Christmas Eve” or his enormous output but also because of his signature early-80’s take on a wall-of-sound expansiveness crossed with a deep love for the Beach Boys, relentlessly clever songwriting, and of course, mirror-polished synth programming. Shigeru Suzuki is perhaps best known for his work with Happy End and Tin Pan Alley, and is also a wildly prolific session musician, who’s contributed to over 588 recordings as of 2006.

Which brings us to Pacific, for which each track was composed by one of the above three. It also includes plenty of of contributions from–you guessed it–Ryuichi Sakamoto and Yukihiro Takahashi. Though YMO’s self-titled debut was also released in 1978, from what I understand Pacific came first, and feels very akin to much of the exotica and fusion that Hosono had already been fixated on across several projects. Still, Pacific is clearly the product of a handful of masterminds having fun together: its unabashed tropical nostalgia acts as a jumping off point for flitting between genres (lounge, funk, disco, rhumba, smooth jazz, Latin fusion, synth pop), all delivered in full-color with jaunty, winking songwriting.

Even with vaporwave and its kitsch-scraping genre contemporaries behind us, Pacific holds up as well as ever. It’s only in closer “Cosmic Surfin'” that we get a taste of the more hard-edged, crunchy electro that became YMO’s signature sound, and fittingly, a different version of the song went on to appear on YMO’s debut the same year. I highly recommend listening to this as much as possible before fall rolls around.

buy / download

Miyako Koda – Jupiter, 1998

Solo record from Miyako Koda (dip in the pool, Love, Peace & Trance, personal style hero). A bit hard to pin down, as there’s a wide range between tracks, but it all feels very true to Koda’s aesthetic: alternately playful and very sober, shifting readily between straight tone choir-boy-esque vocals and spoken word (spoiler alert: closer “A Sea of Love” is an ASMR goldmine). Micro-glitch balearic jazz and delicate electronic pulsing with a bit of a Laurie Anderson feel. Production by Haruomi Hosono, Yasuaki Shimizu, Towa Tei, and Gonzalez Mikami.

To the best of my knowledge, the original recording (download link below) isn’t available for sale anywhere, but you can buy a very good six track mini-album of reworked tracks from Jupiter, featuring an all-star lineup (including mastering by Seigen Ono) from Chee Shimizu’s 17853 imprint here.

Interior – Interior, 1982

A classic. Interior was first released on Yen Records, then later issued on Windham Hill with two of the more post-punky tracks omitted, and the addition of the excellent “Hot Beach.” Confusingly, both the artist and album title are written as “Interiors” in several of the later pressings, and when you try to purchase the mp3s on Amazon it presents you with an unrelated album by “The Interiors.” Because of the un-googleability of the album title, I’m not actually sure if there’s a current version for sale anywhere–please let me know if you know. The version you can download here includes all tracks from both the Yen and Windham Hill releases. As an aside, the group’s lineup includes Toshifumi Hinata‘s brother, Daisuke Hinata.

Having said all that, holy cow, whadda record. This seems to have one of the stronger cult followings of the Yen catalogue, and with good reason. Still feels bonkers that this came out in 1982. It’s about as icy slick as they come, with a synthetic veneer that steers just clear of being too cheesy. As the name would suggest, it’s particularly evocative of certain spaces: Hyatt lobbies, futuristic elevators, waiting rooms. (The cover art for the Windham Hill pressings seems well aware of that, er, interiority.) There’s enough acoustic guitar and piano to ensure that you can’t forget you’re listening to a Windham Hill release, although I don’t entirely follow the insistent categorization of the record as “new age”–it’s too plump and plastic, too winking and too done up. (All good things.) I can’t really think of anyone who wouldn’t like this. Enjoy!