2016 mid-year report


The first half of 2016 hasn’t been anywhere as interesting as 2015’s, but we’ve gotten some great new tracks and albums from producers as varied as Tatsuro Yamashita and Max Martin, as well as some up-and-coming producers from all over the world. I’ve chosen to focus on East Asian pop in this post, and have spent the last couple of weeks frantically catching up on everything I might have overlooked; still, I’m sure I missed a few things that will hopefully make its way to my ears by the end of the year. Until then, I hope you’ll find one or two things you might have missed here as we take the time to reflect on the last six months in music. As always, you can follow the notable releases tag over at the tumblr to keep up in real-time.

K-pop: The Gold, and the Silver


Is there such a thing as a Silver Age? If so, K-pop might be in it. You might be disheartened enough to argue that we’re actually in a Bronze Age but it hasn’t come to that yet; let me make a case.

There have been signs of K-pop’s demise for a couple of years now, signaled by what Jin Min-Ji calls a “generation shift” caused by the expiration of the contracts many idols signed at the era’s beginning. “A multitude [of] second generation members’ contracts, which usually last seven years, have either terminated or are close to termination. An So-hee from Wonder Girls, for example, left the group in 2013 after her contract expired with JYP Entertainment. Other singers that left their groups are Jia from Miss A last month and Sulli from f(x) in August 2015.” In addition, members who have stuck around long enough to find out that the entertainment world isn’t all glitz and glam, are burning out and leaving to find other lucrative work that’s less stressful, demanding, and sometimes, the equivalent of unpaid labor.

Jessica’s departure from SNSD has turned out to be something of a game-changer: since then, we’ve seen Golden Age groups 2NE1, BEAST, and 4minute split, as members have departed on somewhat shaky terms. This leaves room for a new crop of K-pop groups, many which are attempting to imitate the sounds of their forerunners. For example, OH MY GIRL, Lovelyz, and G-Friend, all of which released solid EPs this year, are really just attempting to recreate the magic of the early years of a group like Girls’ Generation, while TWICE is exploring an edgier side in the style of 2NE1. Their efforts are rather admirable, particularly A New Trilogy and Snowflake, but it remains to be seen if a new crop of producers and songwriters will emerge parallel to this “second” generation to carry on the torch of a Teddy Park, E-Tribe, or Shinsadong Tiger; in fact, it seems K-pop is tending to outsource a lot more of its songwriting now, which is not a criticism, but an observation that it might be harder to find writers of hits as prolific as there once were. In addition, now that record companies and agencies finally have some working statistics for modern K-pop, many glitches and experiments can be ironed out, or expanded upon, even pushed to its very limit. This all has the potential to change the look and sound of K-pop as it moves forward.

Because a lot of groups that have managed to stay together are losing popularity, or simply, running out of ideas (BIGBANG comes to mind) there has also been a clear shift this year to giving surviving members solo opportunities. This is notable, since K-pop’s modus operandi is single-sex boy and girl groups, rather than solo artists. This year, we got additional solo work from AMBER (f(x)), Tiffany (SNSD), JONGHYUN (SHINee), Taemin (also SHINee), Luna (f(x)), Jun Hyo Seong (Secret), and an uncomplicated bit of J-pop from former KARA member NICOLE’s Japanese debut album bliss. Tiffany’s and Taemin’s stand out in particular, as SM Entertainment rarely disappoints (SNSD’s Taeyon’s solo effort notwithstanding, aside from last year’s lead single “I” — her next solo effort comes out in a few days as of this writing). “I Just Wanna Dance,” received mild reviews, but I find the song, and its sister follow-up “Heartbreak Hotel,” a slice of ethereal pop. It can easily be too slow for some listeners, and too fast for the others, but its mid-tempo essence is refreshing, and the fact that they held back on letting Tiffany go too crazy with the vocals is a sign of a wise restraint.

Taemin’s “Press Your Number,” on the other hand, channels his group SHINee’s endless, and welcome, repetition of Michael Jackson’s greatest hits. I gushed a bit about the music video earlier, and the dance version of the PV is worth taking a second or third look, just to admire the grace and power Taemin brings to every step of the choreography. The album, too, is full of smooth R&B hooks, and stiller moments, like the lovely little balled “Soldier.” In other words, it’s nice to see that Jo Kwon’s solo album I’m Da One was good for something, even if it was just setting the precedent for seriously fun male solo albums.

Finally, I just really like Luna’s Free Somebody. The title track, which was penned by “The Family,” a songwriting trio from the land of the universe’s reigning country of pop production, and also, surprisingly, JoJo (yes that JoJo) is a tribute to Europe’s easy way of slipping electro-house and nu disco into the mainstream. I could easily see this song fitting onto a Kitsune Maison compilation with no problem, and that fact tickles me.

Even though the continued demise of K-pop’s Golden Age is disappointing, it’s also bringing forth a new crop of groups, mostly-successful solo work, and interesting outside collaborations (it’s less surprising that Skrillex worked with 4minute this year, than that the group is breaking up immediately following it). Hopefully, these new shifts will eventually be brought into the fold, making way for positive developments. It’s jarring not to have a seemingly endless procession of amazing song after incredible rookie group debut after excellent song like we did in 2011 or 2012, but none of this is alarming enough to signal the end. Not yet. In fact, the only true disappointment is that in a year ripe with them, CL has yet to release her promised solo debut.

J-pop (Idols and otherwise)


If you had told me as early as last year that my favorite song of 2016 would probably be by boy-band Arashi, I would have scoffed and continued finding the band as joyless and mediocre as ever. And yet, here we are, halfway through the year, and nothing has come close to “Fukkatsu LOVE” and its B-side “Ai no COLLECTION.” Sure, there have been songs that have been more upbeat, more powerful, and more fun (if you’re short of time, Namie Amuro’s “Mint” covers all of those bases), but none have rivaled “Fukkatsu” for atmosphere and production. The song, which was penned by legendary City Pop producer Tatsuro Yamashita, is similar to the general patterns of any Arashi song, and yet, completely different. For Yamashita, “smooth,” and “cool,” are less adjectives than steadfast principles to his success. The song, with which its throwback sounds to the early 80s could have been something of a risk for a group that has done phenomenal with its Johnny’s formula, adapts to the group’s somewhat elder statesmen status (the group debuted in 1999 — for all you collectors out there, it means their first single was issued on 3″ mini-CD, rather than the standard 5″ maxi). It’s a mature, relaxed look and sound for the group, with its subdued coloring and formal wear. Finally being allowed to act their age (the oldest member is 35) and associate itself closer to SMAP is doing this idol group a service, leaving the more strenuous tasks to juniors like Hey! Say! JUMP and A.B.C.-Z. Meanwhile, I’m still waiting for that Yuma Nakayama follow-up (one year since Tokoton and not a word).

Other male groups that have stood out to me have been Da-iCE, which has been a sort of slow burn. It’s not surprising that some of the most interesting music is coming from the groups that are competing with their Korean peers overseas: there’s big bucks and, seemingly, bigger respect from groups who can bring something other than the standard “idol sound” to the charts. Your preference is a matter of opinion: there’s interesting things on both sides of the divide, and generally, even an EVERY SEASON has its pitfalls (imagine, for a moment, a man like Daichi Miura getting his hands on a song like “Got Your Back” and how much it would have made a good song incredible). As a counterweight, there’s NEWS’ QUARTETTO, which I find a perfect blend of the two.

One of the most interesting developments of the year to watch has been Avex Trax’s entrance into the idol world. Japan’s biggest independent label is on record as one of my favorite labels of all time, if not number one. They’ve made inroads beginning a couple of years back, choosing, wisely to develop and sustain their roster of dance-pop oriented groups like FEMM, Fairies, and FAKY, but groups like X21 have done better than a few of those. Without a signature sound, the only way I can describe it is idol-pop with a sheer of professional polish all over it. Wa-suta’s The World Standard and Cheeky Parade’s second album are the highlights, bringing to the endless churn of singles put out by groups like AKB48 (whose year-defining senbatsu single “Tsubasa wa Iranai” didn’t come close to last year’s “Bokutachi wa Tatakawanai“) a bit more gravitas. The attention to detail is surprising for songs that don’t sound much different than their more experienced contemporaries over at places like King Record. Still, iDOL Street, the name of Avex’s subdivision dedicated to idols, is a growing and interesting venture for them. SUPER☆GiRLS , the first group signed, has been something of a mixed bag, but it’s worth looking out for Wa-suta, and in the coming months, BiSH, who were signed earlier this year.

In addition, Avex has their hands full with dance groups like GEM, whose debut album Girls Entertainment Mixture, following a number of singles since 2013, has been one of my most-played of the year. Even though they’re under the same umbrella as CP and S☆G, they’re still a basic Avex dance-group like Fairies. The biggest criticism at this point is that Avex seems to be scrambling to debut and develop as many groups as possible, in the hopes that one or two will make an impression long enough to stick around. In other words, hopefully FEMM won’t be tossed aside for a group like FAKY, which hasn’t fulfilled any of its promise (perhaps one or two of the members will get solo opportunities? They’re too talented to throw away), and will start work on their follow-up album (as of this writing, a new single has been announced, but not released). You can always tell when a group has made it by the imitators that follow; if they all sound like Faint Star’s “Never Ever,” I won’t complain.

That leaves me wondering where groups like Prizmmy☆, Dorothy Little Happy, X21, or TOKYO GIRLS’ STYLE will fit into the coming year. The latter, in particular, is now at something of a deadlock. They were Avex’s first and most successful idol group in a long time, with amazing New Jack Swing albums to back them up, but with the official departure of member Ayano Konishi, they’re unsure which direction to take them now that they’ve declared themselves artists, rather than idols. So far, they’ve been spending most of 2016 performing overseas, pushing a dead album onto the masses. It’s been six months since REFLECTION and there’s been no sign of a new single in the works; the style and tone of it will be telling of the group’s future.

Other groups that have failed to release follow-up albums, have been PASSPO☆, who so impressed me last year, callme, E-girls (just a greatest hits here), and palet, though I’m eagerly looking forward to any upcoming singles or projects that might still make it before the year is up. In the end, it’s been BABYMETAL’s continued success story overseas that has been J-pop’s crowning achievement of 2016 so far; the fact that METAL RESISTANCE is so great only makes it sweeter.

Going Solo

Here were the big solo releases of the year: Namie Amuro’s “Mint,” a grand pop gesture if there ever was one (hopefully, a new album follows her soon-to-be-released summer single), Ayumi Hamasaki’s M(A)DE IN JAPAN, which I’ve already discussed here (worth noting, though, is the constant cropping up of the term “renaissance” to describe this phase of her career, to which: maybe? Things like that usually only become clear after the fact, so I’ll sit tight for now), and the wild card, Mamoru Miyano’s “SHOUT!” He’s no Luna Haruna, but the anime-pop solo work of this voice actor has been a refreshing change from your everyday Nana Mizuki. Someone has to fill in for Yuma Nakayama.

Odds and Ends

One of the biggest stories in J-pop this year was the affair between Gesu no Kiwame Otome.’s Enon Kawatani and Becky, a talento. Unfortunately, the news overshadowed the release of the group’s album, Ryouseibai, a solid bit of J-rock, that runs just a bit too long to be truly outstanding. The J-rock album to beat this year has been uchuu,’s +1, a solid debut full-length from the indie group that graced us with HELLO, HELLO, HELLO, last year. I’ll be keeping my eyes on them.

But what is it good for?


Which leads us to the biggest disappointments of the year. Of note, there have only been two: Perfume’s COSMIC EXPLORER and Negicco’s Tea for Three. Perfume’s is the least surprising, with the quality of Yasutaka’s Nakata’s compositions on a decline for the past few years; still COSMIC EXPLORER, unlike LEVEL3, left so little room for surprises, such as a “PARTY MAKER” or “Clockwork,” that its two interesting songs “Miracle Worker” and “FLASH” pale in comparison. Negicco, who showed such promise after years of toiling in obscure ridicule, set such a high bar with Rice & Snow that Tea for Three is less a disappointment, than a given. It’s an okay album for a group that released okay singles leading up to it, with a few stand-outs, like “Kounan Yoi Uta.” I’ll take it, but I’m not happy about it.


The Empress’s New Clothes


There was a time when Ayumi Hamasaki was a trend-setter, a pioneer in music, image, and business. In her long, storied career, she was known for trying new things, even when those things seemed gimmicky or never saw a repeat. For example, in 2009 she bundled limited editions of her album NEXT LEVEL onto a specially designed USB. The following year, a special edition of Love songs was released in deluxe, LP-sized packaging with a USB and micro-SD. In 2012, along with many of her label Avex Trax’s popular artists, her albums were re-released in the comically unnecessary PLAYBUTTON format, a literal button loaded with the album’s contents and a jack for headphones. And now, as Avex tackles the logistics of its own streaming service AWA, Ayumi Hamasaki’s new album M(A)DE IN JAPAN was launched in conjunction, a Beyonce-like drop that caught fans unaware stateside on a Friday morning (or Thursday night, depending on where you call home – it was released Wednesday, May 11 in Japan).

Hamasaki had made hints on her Instagram account (and to that she was a little late, preferring Twitter to the image-only app — she launched the account only recently to promote a concert tour, then reappearing to post behind-the-scenes photos of her recording sessions and stage rehearsals), captioning outtakes from the cover shoot with lyrics from the new songs. Though the release was unexpected, it wasn’t surprising: Hamasaki’s career has relied less and less on the music than on other aspects that keep it rolling along, like personal scandal and gossip, fashion and designer accessories, appearances for launch events, and of late, the massive stage shows that have become more and more technical and vigorous, first with added acrobatic elements and aerial specialists, then with Hamasaki tackling those same acrobatic stunts herself. Despite her overall declining popularity and diminishing sales, each arena show always looks packed, leading fans on the AHS forum to speculate that tickets are sold outside the show for cheap, or given away free to fill seats, all in an attempt to maintain appearances and keep the star blissfully ignorant of her current status. Is it true? One can only guess. Smaller stars with less-fawning entourage are guilty of worse.

Certainly, Hamasaki is no fool, and a case of Sunset Boulevard this is not. The artist might not draw in the same numbers, but her track record is nothing to scoff at: rumors that she refused to release any more singles so as not to taint her record-breaking streak of #1s were balanced by the fact that most stars aren’t releasing singles anymore at all. Not even Namie Amuro can be bothered to release singles regularly, and most of those songs don’t even end up on albums. After a two year hiatus, Hamasaki finally released one, watching her sales numbers almost halve. Anyway, singles are for newcomers and idols, not seasoned professionals. And professional is what Hamasaki is.

ayumadeinapp2J-pop’s reigning queen, a shrewd businesswoman, can play the game better than anyone else (I’ll allow for two exceptions); she didn’t become TIME‘s Empress of Pop by playing it safe or always being nice. Throughout her career, Hamasaki has bent others to her will, championing her own unique style, re-branding her image on personal whims, signing multiple endorsements, and standing back to watch the public buy every single camera, cellphone, and limited edition box of donuts not because of any need, but from an obsessive want to posses, in some way, that same charm and effortless beauty that she radiated. Tapping into that insecure desire, some would say exploiting it, was her specialty. But by some Machiavellian spirit, all was forgiven, because in the end, she always stayed true to an authentic, artistic vision in her music and in her relationship with her fans.

Her singles, and especially albums, were the touchstone. Even if a fan couldn’t afford to attend all four of her sold out Dome Tours, even if they could only buy one copy of the original A BEST, or one edition of a single, and not even the DVD version, but the regular edition that came with the least-pretty cover art, they could always feel like she was right there in the room with them, just by pressing play. It’s been written about many times: the songs and lyrics that comprise Hamasaki’s discography are some of the strongest of any female solo artist, and they have the added dignity of coming from a very personal, very carefully curated place in her life. Part confessional, part biography, part memoir, each song had a distinctive, quantifiable identity of its own, a little world that someone could spend days poring over, seeking all the various interpretations; a universe of possibility, wisdom, and truth. Overarching themes tackled everything from breakups, to unrequited love, to empowerment, to depression, to weakness, vulnerability, and all the myriad permutations of human relationships and the petty sins they could lead to. Getting down to the very thing of life itself was her specialty, and reward and respect is in order to a woman who could successfully balance the forces of hollow commerce with the depths of artistic integrity and insight.

But relying on the goodwill of the past can be a dangerous, feckless thing to attempt. The precedent was set before her: Japanese pop stars will always fade away before they burn out. The relationships that bind long-terms business associations are eternal. Loyalty will always trump a fresh new face. The brick foundations of relationships formed over time — those between artist and fans, producers and protegees, record labels and singers — are more than mere givens: they are long-term business strategies and even longer-term unspoken promises, more like blood, than ephemeral, contractual ties.

And in many ways Avex Trax is like a blood-bound family: famed producer Tetsuya Komuro, despite his own dubious, philandering behavior and illegal dips into money-making disasters, is still tucked under the record labels’ protective wing in deference to his legendary history of hit-making and artist-molding. We can never forget that if the term J-pop was coined by the media, it was Komuro who shaped it, gave it a weight and a wonder that is still being imitated today. Hamasaki garners the same due respect, though her longevity is now a telling sign that yes-men outnumber the taste makers and the common sense of a capricious public; whether or not anyone would approve, cares, or likes what she has to offer is of little concern. In many ways, it’s not just empowering or fearless, it’s flat-out amazing, yet in others, concerning, a ham-fisted, clumsy way of coming to terms with reality, rather than humbly forfeiting a personal vision for one that could bring in a younger, broader audience, or change public perception.

ayumadeinapp5Namie Amuro has been more successful at this. Since she never had a conflicting, self-motivated vision for her image and style, always choosing to opt for professional taste and image makers, ebbing and flowing with the current trends, she’s managed to remain not only popular, but relevant. In many ways, Amuro is doing the same thing she was doing fifteen years ago, but with the added heft of experience and visible maturity, both in the way she has grown as a performer, and in her handling of the public. It might just be an old-fashioned aversion to social media, a language she feels too old to learn, but her lack of any Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram accounts has also served to keep her mysterious and alluring, a femme fatale-superhero who swoops in by night to put on the world’s greatest show as if from nowhere, and exiting the stage as if into thin air. As Hamasaki imprints herself onto the public with bigger and bolder strokes, Amuro is retreating into the shadows, any outward sign of personal identity disappearing with her tattoos, so that what we’re left to identify with is something more elusive, but universal: an enduring spirit and attitude, a don’t-quit, never-say-die-diva who is able to have both the amazing career and the secrets. These aren’t mutually exclusive. In many ways, you can’t be a musician who mines personal experiences to make art without opening yourself to scrutiny and public reaction, both positive and negative.

The difference, and this is only speculation, is that Amuro has changed course when things haven’t worked, experimented with things she may not have always liked, and shifted focus to what worked in the past. This willingness to take in criticism and learn from her mistakes — for example the relationship with her backup dancer and brief career hiatus — has only benefited her. We know she’s a mother to an eighteen year old son, but to all of us, she’s our ageless drag mama, teaching us all how to work a sidewalk like a runway, perennially confident, poised, and graceful. Maybe she’s only these things because it’s what she’s given us to work with, or maybe we just need her to be these things because we can’t always be them ourselves; somebody needs to be the guiding light of inspiration. On the other hand, Hamasaki’s mistakes are never actually lessons in disguise, in fact, they’re worth repeating when things start to get too quiet. Rather than acknowledge any critical commentary, she plows ever-forward, a singular, but self-motivated vision. Exhilarating, but exhausting.

ayumadeinjpanaapp3Hamasaki would benefit from listening to honest judgment concerning her recent career choices, not because they necessarily need to change altogether, or cater exclusively to long-time fans (a demographic I will forever pledge allegiance to) or the whims of youthful trends as many artists past their prime do, but because it allows one to not just work harder (Hamasaki is already a notorious workaholic), but to grow and develop harder, rather than grasp at straws. These straws are how I view albums like Love again and COLOURS. In many ways, as much as A ONE was a wonderful album, the first Hamasaki album that’s felt like a Hamasaki album in as much as eight years, it is how I now view M(A)DE IN JAPAN, a competent album, a very Ayumi-album, with its hard rock, edgy guitars, and emphatic verbiage, its anger, pain, and domineering presence, but yet another companion to the aforementioned A ONE and sixxxxxx. Like sixxxxxx, it’s a collection of standards, not hits. It’s temping to be content with the humble offering (and it is very humble, at a restrained 10-tracks), especially when there’s so little to find fault with. The album’s biggest misstep seems to be the final original track, “Summer of Love,” which is actually a really great song, but for some other really great album, lacking the sound and feel of the other tracks. I can take or leave “Many Classic Moments,” which begs the question of whether or not dancey cover songs are the way Hamasaki will be ending all of her albums from now (is two a pattern, or do we have to wait for three?).

Furthermore, we can add M(A)DE IN JAPAN to the country’s other great national-pride-inspired albums which began cropping up in the wake of the Tohoku earthquake, from Kumi Koda’s JAPONESQUE, to Perfume’s JPN, to Arashi’s Japonism. Hamasaki’s album, too, boasts the traditional subtleties, with a very faint presence of Japanese instrumentation punctuating the modern sounds of pop and rock — a very apt metaphor for the country’s popular culture today, with its blend of old and new. And the songs are every bit as dramatic as we expect her songs to be, with a minimally fresh take on the standard formula that keeps the album interesting, moving from tear-jerkers to fist-pumpers, rather than the awkward bid for trendy relevancy that COLOURS sought (innovation only works when it’s done successfully).

Yet what is most significant, and infuriating and sad, is that M(A)DE IN JAPAN is the definitive end of an era, probably a personal one, but one that any long-time fan can identify with: the Ayumi-album-as-event that marked a generation of J-pop fans’ yearly calendars. Released as quietly as it was, with no promotional tie-ins, no crazy-huge posters in Shibuya, no cover art blazoned on trucks passing by, you could almost miss it, as I did last week, stuck at work all night and just catching the headline the following morning. The album might be released as a physical CD at the end of June, but the moment has already come and gone.

ayumadeinjapp4In many ways now, as for many seasoned artists, new work is immaterial, an insignificant blip that merely provides the excuse for a little bit of income and extended touring. It makes one wonder if Hamasaki has found a new, more immediate outlet for expressing herself, through the heady theatrics of her live shows that now stretch upwards of three hours long. The wild artifice and spectacle of her stage shows, even in an era of increasingly amazing pyrotechnics and computer effects, is still dazzling to see. In this environment, Hamasaki gets immediate attention and first-hand affection from fans in a reality-defying wave of all-consuming love. The costumes, the sets, the lights, and the song selection, a hyper-hardcore update of shows past, are just some ways that the bridge between audience and artist is crossed and re-crossed, destroyed and re-built, in the course of an evening. It is Hamasaki attempting to express her truth in ways we’ve only seen lately through her songs and lyrics, and sometimes, barrage of cryptic Tweets. Despite the number of things that could go wrong — especially now that pulleys and ropes and rings and precarious rigging of giant vats of water have been introduced — or maybe because of them, Hamasaki thrives on stage, commanding and in charge, forever demanding “Motto, motto!” from her audience.

While all signs point to the end of a musical era, it’s impossible to predict what the future holds for Hamasaki’s career as a whole, let alone the choices she might make. Marriage hasn’t slowed her down, nor has age or any other factor insignificant in the face of a persevering, born celebrity, beholden only to her fans, and is an unlikely predictor of any directions she might take; and yet, it’s unlikely that such a steep dip in sales and popularity can be ignored completely. Only time will tell when one of the most glorious artists and entertainers Japan has ever seen will break all our hearts and take her final bow. The show must go on, but it can’t go on forever.

Some luck, but mostly effort: The anomaly and allure of BABYMETAL


Marty Friedman was both right and wrong: J-pop idols are pretty amazing, and he emphasized this point when he enthused that “all the stuff I introduced to you from Japan is going to make it outside of Japan, and soon. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already. I’m talking this year, or next year something is going to explode because this stuff is too good.” Four years later, we’re seeing a tiny, almost barely-perceptible fissure in the musical landscape. Perfume is successfully touring Europe and North America, adding major cities to their stops over time, while metal idols BABYMETAL are catering to both the LOLJapan crowd, and prurient hipsters, ever on the prowl for the new and different. The latter is nowhere more telling then their appearance in the entertainment issue of this week’s New Yorker, buried in the back in the teenage tastemakers article, Teenage Dream, by Matthew Trammell.

“Teen-agers with their serial rebellions, romantic infatuations, and unabashed experimentalism, have proved to be adept at reworking pop’s core provocations. Technology, meanwhile, has made it easy for teens to inject their aesthetics into the mainstream, with or without the guiding hand of managers and record labels.” (70)

newyorkerappThat last point is a stretch, and none of the artists briefly profiled could be considered to have gained “mainstream” success (Rappers Novelist and Kodak Black, piano prodigy Joey Alexander, popster Låpsley, etc.), but the New Yorker wouldn’t be the New Yorker if it didn’t purport to being on the absolute up-and-up. As in TIME‘s special Fall 2001 issue, which featured Hikaru Utada, (notably, she was working on her American debut with Foxy Brown and the Neptunes and planning to retire very young, around 28, probably to become a neuroscientist), articles like these tend to be peak Western exposure for said artists, rather than the beginning of a phenomenon, though BABYMETAL does get relatively considerable space. Writes Trammell,

“Though the songs are addictive, Babymetal’s sharpest asset is its singular combination of J-pop’s theatrical pageantry and metal’s primal sprint. Adherents of each genre are becoming fans: Babymetal has enjoyed huge success in Japan, and its fame is growing in the United States and in London. […] Babymetal’s act, like much of the best pop, is at once recognizable and profoundly new.” (78)

This is a singularly Western explanation; in fact, for fans of J-pop, young teenage girls dancing and singing in a genre they never heard of, or downright dislike, is nothing new, and has been done, often, if not, arguably, better, by Japanese idol groups before them. The “profoundly new” angle is only new to American pop, where metal remains the domain of a largely male demographic. This, too, was true in Japan, until a meeting of the minds pinpointed a great way to sell idols units to otaku male audiences (the, ahem, most important, ones) and their skeptical friends even quicker: by making young female idols the mouthpieces of a traditionally “masculine” genre, they created the jarring allure and unexplored juxtaposition of teenage girls belting out aggressive metal songs, and lured fans’ wallets with something they could enthuse about publicly. This opened the idol business to even more mainstream revenue: suddenly it was just a little less unseemly for young and older men alike to collect posters and photo cards, attend handshake events, and attend concerts to see their idols because the music wasn’t soft rock or bubblegum pop: it was heavy and authentic and respectable and composed by real virtuosos of the genre with immeasurable skill and talent. While the genre (here, idol pop as an all-encompassing umbrella term) has always had both male and female fans, the female fans tend to be outliers: female idols, especially those who are front women for increasingly edgier hard rock or metal music, are first and foremost catered to a male audience, most especially an older male audience, who has the buying power to keep up with the sale of related merchandise. Female fans are the superfluous extra perks, a welcome byproduct, but hardly the target, which is why you get a lot of lyrical content that is usually either a) specific to men’s interests, especially, as the market saturates, super-niche interests — see Momoiro Clover Z — or b) specific to what boys and men think girls think, talk, and daydream about.

There are very few actual female idol groups marketed to girls and women, and most of them aren’t pure idols, skirting the broader definitions that prefer terms like girl group, or dance group, like E-girls or Fairies. Female fans are steered in the direction of Johnny’s idols, where young boys and men release softer, more heartfelt, treacly pop music, the type women are typically assumed to like: photoshoots present male idols as nonthreatening, cute, and cuddly, and their singles and albums reinforce this. While a crop of new K-pop-imitators like Da-iCE and Choshinsei, are struggling to redefine the preconceived notions of idol boy bands, they are still the exception, outnumbered by their best-selling rivals. Even groups like EXILE, KAT-TUN, and lately NEWS, lean toward heavy dancepop at its most aggressive; another genre traditionally undervalued in the critical world.

babymetaltrivappIn many ways this is a sign of the outrageous gender binaries that comprise the marketing and distribution of Japanese idols; for purposes of the music itself, it also reinforces the notion that genres that comprise huge male audiences (hard rock, metal) can be deemed authentic and worthy of critical attention, while those that women enjoy are considered fluff that no one would ever take seriously. Under that idea, it’s hardly surprising that a group like BABYMETAL could make it in the circles of certain American subcultures, and less so that articles in the Western media feel the need to justify their interest in the group by constantly reminding readers that their material was written by veterans of the metal genre (Nobuki Narasaki, Herman Li, Sam Totman, Takeshi Ueda, etc.), or that the girls themselves are influenced, or appreciated by, everybody from the members of Metallica to Slayer. There are few that don’t, and in many ways, these men serve to legitimize their existence. Under these caveats, it’s hard to imagine an equivalent Japanese male group/boy band (who don’t write their own music or play instruments) could make it stateside, not even if like Jimi Hendrix came back from the dead to write an album for them. Because it seems to be acceptable, if not preferable, for women to be mostly muses and good-looking faces for the music, a group like Perfume can get a lot of critical praise because of their music producer Yasutaka Nakata, but it rarely goes the other way for boy bands, who can’t seem to catch a break unless they’re more in control of their music and image, for example G-Dragon of K-pop group BIG BANG.

Setting aside the gender breakdown of the critical music sphere for a second, any writer putting together an article about BABYMETAL deserves applause, since nothing gives away their idol-ness more than an interview, where stock quips and rehearsed nothings are the order of the day. Says Moa Kikuchi, when asked about the international reach of their fans, “Everyone loves music. I think music is the common language of the world. Music is a wonderful connection for all people – it brings people together.” These are hardly the insights of seasoned performers, though it speaks to their unique perspective, both as teenagers and Japanese teens, which they are very quick to take pride in (Yui Mizuno: “BABYMETAL music is a blend of hard music and metal music with Japanese pop and sounds. If we were not from Japan, we’d be a totally different band with totally different fans”).

artravebabvy2While Marty Friedman believed that Japanese pop music would only reach an audience outside Japan “with luck” and “timing,” and other factors that couldn’t be planned, BABYMETAL, has been a slow, methodical climb to relevance, not least of which included shows in Paris, New York, and the UK, and opening for Lady Gaga’s ArtRave: The Artpop Ball tour starting back in 2014. Noisey did a brief introduction back in the same year, while Jake Cleland at Pitchfork picked “Gimme Choco!!” as one of his favorite tracks of 2010-2014. All said and done, BABYMETAL, originally conceived of as a subunit of uber-traditional idol group Sakura Gakuin, has done well for itself, and not just because of luck and timing.

In fact, idol groups like BABYMETAL flourish in Japan, many of them far superior to the group, who are getting the attention and accolades that many Japanese idols simply don’t care about, or can’t be bothered with. PASSPO☆, in particular, has some of the highest quality, and variety, of hard rock and metal on their albums, especially on the legendary One World, and last year’s Beef or Chicken? Other examples include BAND-MAID, Momoiro Clover Z, and BiSH, all bands that might be considered too niche to crossover in America (it would surely involve a lot of context and explanation).

stephenbabyappThat being said, in rare cases the music can transcend context, as BABYMETAL’s fantastic new album, METAL RESISTANCE, does. There are some truly epic and astounding risks the album takes and pulls off, particularly with lead tracks “KARATE” and the mostly-instrumental “From Dusk Till’ Dawn.” As Ryotaro Aoki points out in his review, the album has “more nods to 1980s hair metal and symphonic metal, which are perhaps more suited for mixing with J-pop than metal’s edgier subgenres” and fulfills “the crux of idol music; they know what you like, and they can convincingly make it exactly the way you like it.” It will be interesting to see how long BABYMETAL can sustain their novelty act in a country where trends come and go, Japanese pop culture is not often taken seriously, and the majority reaction is still more laugh-at-them than laugh-with-them (to be fair, homegrown girl groups aren’t having it much easier, even as they look to edgy K-pop for inspiration, but Fifth Harmony and Little Mix, bless their souls, are trying). While seeing the girls on Stephen Colbert was pretty exciting, simply appearing on late night portends nothing; just ask Girls’ Generation. The goal is always that music from other parts of the world can be appreciated and enjoyed for what it is and what it’s trying to do, rather than fit a predetermined, acceptable mold, regardless of which audience it’s attracting and why, and at least in that sense, BABYMETAL are chipping away at America’s icy heart proudly, and on their own terms.

(Photo credit.)

A different level of rock star: The Yoshiki Show rolls on with documentary film We Are X


By now, everyone has heard about We Are X, the documentary film about one of Japan’s most legendary rock bands, X Japan. The film already won the World Cinema Documentary Special Jury Award for Best Editing by the Sundance Institute, and extra buzz picked up speed when it was announced that the movie would be screened at this year’s SXSW music festival in Austin, Texas last week. SXSW describes the movie as “the arc of X – from phenomenal origins through tumultuous super-stardom and premature dissolution up to present day, as the band prepares to reunite for a show at the legendary Madison Square Garden while struggling to reconcile a past haunted by suicide, injury and cultish extremism with the insatiable thirst for perfection.” It’s the stuff of high drama and theatrics, just the kind band leader, drummer, and pianist Yoshiki lives for.

Here’s what I knew about X Japan by the time I purchased their first CD over a decade ago: hide was the most interesting, Yoshiki was the most tortured, and almost none of it mattered because the band had already broken up. hide was dead. Toshi was in a religious cult. And Heath and Pata were scrambling to cobble together new projects.

xjapanapp1The band cited few reasons for breaking up, but it was obvious that even before the release of their last studio album, DAHLIA, most of the members were unhappy. hide achieved the most success in his solo project, combining a different, less serious and more blithe aspect into his work, which incorporated more and more progressive and industrial sounds into the mix (he was a big fan of Garbage); in fact, hide’s signature loud and fun colors and style were the only remaining “visuals” in X Japan as the years wore on — pink hair and neon green latex suits were hard to miss standing next to everyone else in black. Toshi had started to second guess his fame and fortune, struggling with his identity and place in the world. And Yoshiki was too busy controlling every aspect of every facet of every second of every piece of song that made the cut; “perfectionist” might be one way to describe him. Control-freak would be another. Domineering, also a good one. Hogging the spotlight wouldn’t be too far-fetched either.

Before long, the credits on the track lists stopped featuring all the members and only Yoshiki’s name appeared. The other members stopped getting solos. Their songs were cut or heavily edited. Yoshiki, a classically trained pianist, dropped the others’ songs out to make room for more of his signature ballads. The band’s last album, featured two songs written by hide, one written by Heath and Pata, and seven songs written by Yoshiki. It’s not hard to see where disagreements and artistic differences started to crop up.

xjapanapp2Watching the trailer for We Are X is like seeing the evidence come to life all over again two decades later: I’m not sure what the movie actually features since I haven’t seen it yet, but the trailer is nothing short of the Memoirs of Yoshiki. His voice, or rather, his story and his point of view, narrates the entire time: like the last five minutes of all of his ballads, it is a creation of his mind, a rehearsed poem, with special attention paid to the darkest nights of his soul, and the highest peaks of success — which are now, naturally, even though they haven’t released an album of new material in almost 20 years (despite Yoshiki promising said album for nearly as long). “Why am I here? Why am I in this world?” he asks as the trailer starts, and we strap ourselves in to find out why Yoshiki’s existence alone matters in a movie about a band of five.

His ego knows no bounds: his talking head crops up countless times, while the other members don’t speak at all (the language barrier shouldn’t be a  problem when other voices get subtitles). Understandably, X was a band Yoshiki started with his childhood friend, but to take all the credit is nearly sacrilegious. This is not a movie about one of the greatest rock bands of all time, this is a movie about Yoshiki: Yoshiki the musical genuis, Yoshiki the frail, injured victim who seeks the medical help of doctors for tragic plot development (as already frequently chronicled on his Instagram and Facebook — cue the far away, searching look in his eyes as he delicately cradles his arm and looks out the hospital’s window for his staged photo), and Yoshiki the actor, taking his role in the spotlight once again, playing the part he’s been rehearsing since the days of Vanishing Vision.

“After my father died, my mother bought me a drum set. Instead of breaking things, I started banging drums,” Yoshiki begins, and we’re immediately transported to one of his “Tears” sagas: a carefully practiced tale of sadness and woe. When the band segues into hide’s suicide, we get a shot of sad-Yoshiki, looking forlorn into a mirror while the facts are smeared to aid in the drama (hide was not a member of X Japan at the time of his suicide on May 2, 1998, as the band had already officially broken up in December of 1997). When we hear him say “X Japan’s era was over,” we get a cinematic shot of Yoshiki, walking alone down a crowded street. Pata who? That bassist guy, what was his name again? Even when Marilyn Manson chimes in with an informative soundbite, we see pictures of Yoshiki, pretty odd when hide was the known Manson fan. It’s not until about 1:50 in that we even see a single shot of any of the other surviving and current members.

xjapanapp3There is no doubt in my mind that X Japan was one of the best and most influential Japanese rock bands of all time, and this movie is a long-overdue recognition of the talent, skill, hard work, luck, and perseverance that are all hallmarks of the greatest bands since the dawn of time. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons a comment like Gene Simmons rankles so much: “If those guys were born in America, they might be the biggest band in the world.” But they weren’t. They were born in Japan, into a very unique time in history where their style of music and dress were able to resonate: influenced by KISS, they started out as a speed metal band  dressed in flamboyant hair and makeup, at a time when equivalent “hair metal” bands were already going out of style in America and the simplicity and dressed-down nature of grunge was gaining popularity. This creation of what would come to be called “visual-kei” would go on to influence countless number of Japanese bands from Dir en grey to Due le Quartz to Malice Mizer. America was already over it, trading in one type of cool for another. If they were born in America they wouldn’t be X. They wouldn’t be X Japan. And in the end, it’s a shame that particular pride is missing, when so much of the movie seems to concentrate on Yoshiki’s very personal emotional journey and comeback. In that sense, the movie seems like it’s going to be less factual documentary, than a curated collection of highlights that seek a predestined agenda and work off a script, one that clearly paints Yoshiki as the hero and savior of the band. One wonders why Yoshiki didn’t just drop the humble brags and false modesty, call the movie I Am X, and have done with it.

Yamapi: An alternative greatest hits collection


Last week on January 27, Tomohisa Yamashita released his first greatest hits collection. As one of the few male solo singers in J-pop getting it right, it’s a shame that the album is such a pitiful example of the best this guy has to offer. Caught between traditional Johnny’s-pop and more mature dance music, I’m surprised this greatest hits isn’t spread across two discs! Yet, somehow, despite the wealth of singles, styles, and sheer number of songs to his name, apparently his record company was only able to find ten songs that they thought exemplified the best he has to offer. That’s right. Ten.

In case you’re looking for a complete starter kit on Yamapi, here’s a better collection of songs to get you started (I did the best I could, but apologies in advance for the lack of samples – he’s Johnny’s, which means you won’t find any of his work easily on YouTube, if at all). Let’s start with singles, because there are a lot of them, and it’s important to filter out the duds upfront so we can be honest about where things went wrong.

First there’s “Daite SENORITA.” Arguably Yamapi’s most well-known song, “Daite SENORITA” was also his debut single released ten years ago. Yamapi was still a member of the boyband NEWS at this point — actually, he didn’t leave until 2011, which is perhaps why so many of his later releases started doing poorly. Without the added benefit of NEWS fans, it was hard for him to gain a whole new set of fans, which left him scrambling to find them while still providing for the old with his more signature Johnny’s sound. This double life basically defines this guy’s career, so get used to picking through the mess to find the songs that speak to you. It was hard to find any songs off of Loveless worth adding here; there’s six to choose from, and none of them are bad, but none of them became fan favorites. All of these songs signaled Yamapi’s desire for a more “mature” sound, where “mature” means R&B, I guess.

Finally, Yamapi struck gold with “One in a million.” This is pop music at its best: it’s a love song, it’s a dance song, it’s the beginning of songs in the vein of old-school teen heartthrob odes, but with an updated sound. You can’t not include this song: it’s almost genius, and the only thing that could improve this collection is adding the remix he performed in concert as a bonus track. Shortly after this, Yamapi embarked on an epic American road trip across Route 66 to find himself and brought back “Ai, TEXAS” as a souvenir. While that explains the nature of this somewhat gimmicky single, with its twangy Americana, it’s still a great song. The B-sides “Candy” and “PERFECT CRIME” are even better. But since we’re running out of room, we’ll have to leave them behind and tack on “LOVE CHASE” and “NOCTURNE” to represent the EDM-vibe we’ll be hearing more of in a second. I’ve left “Ke Sera Sera” for the purists instead of “Beating,” but let’s just admit it’s a way better song. And I put “ERO -2012 version-” on there, though I couldn’t tell you why. It’s not particularly interesting. I’ve also included the one-off single he did under the name The MONSTERS with Shingo Katori from SMAP. It’s not a bad song and it has genuine gravitas with Katori on it.

You’ll notice that five singles are already on YAMA-P, with the exclusion of “Hadakanbo” (seriously, screw this single, does anyone even remember this song?), anything off Loveless, “One in a million,” (WHAT WHY), and “Ai, TEXAS” (HOW). It’s inconceivable how “One in a million” wouldn’t make the cut; I honestly can’t even speculate upon this matter. If they couldn’t include the original, why not that amazing, unreleased remix that was featured on the 2013 -A NUDE- tour? The world will never know.

So we still have tons of space left now for some of the edgier cuts from his albums; I doubled down so we could fit it all onto one disc. This is where I’m sure everyone’s opinions will diverge. I promise you, this is just my personal preference, so when you put your own playlist together for a friend, you can substitute twelve of your own songs. I’ve chosen a collection of fan favorites, with a balance of standard J-pop and more dance-pop (with help from which songs get the most love during concerts).

Plus, in 2011, Yamapi was also featured on Namie Amuro’s Checkmate!, a collection of collaborations she’s done over the years. “UNUSUAL,” her duet with Yamashita, was one of the new songs used to promote the album. Reader, this song is amazing. I have no idea why they wouldn’t put this on here: you had an amazing veteran of J-pop paired with a talented up and coming male solo singer and struck gold. I would rather have eight more collabs like this than any of the treacle m-flo comes up with. Namie Amuro performs this a lot on tour (without her partner, sadly), Yamapi not so much. One way of looking at it might be that this is more Amuro’s song: he’s guesting on her song, not the other way around. Let’s change that. Let’s put it on the greatest hits album and officially mark this as one of the greatest in J-pop for both of them. And there you have it. A much, much more precise, yet expansive, greatest his collection that both fans and newer listeners deserve. Take note, Johnny.

“One in a million”
“Ke Sera Sera”
‘”ERO -2012 version-”

“Crazy You”
“Hadakanbou (Album ver.)”
“Saigo no LOVE SONG”

“Hit the Wall”
“Baby Baby”


“Birthday Suit”
“Konya ga Kakumei Zenya”


“UNUSUAL (with Namie Amuro)”

There it is. 20 tracks. The closest we can get to summarizing Yamapi’s career in one hour seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds.

Top ten albums of 2015: Honorable mentions, Bollywood, etc.


Honorable mentions:


callme’s Who is callme?: More than just Perfume knockoffs, this is a solid electro-pop debut that runs just a little long at 16 tracks.

Arashi’s Japonism: Idol seniors expand on the recent national pride movement with an album heavy on traditional instruments. I’ll give them their due.

JUJU’s WHAT YOU WANT: Fun disco-pop from an underrated stateswoman of J-pop.

AILEE’s VIVID: R&B vocal powerhouse finally given songs that aren’t just Beyonce-replicas (bonus points for the track featuring Amber).

Flower’s Hanadokei: Ballad masters hit all the sweet spots with this beautiful collection of slow-tempo torch songs.

Hey! Say! JUMP’s JUMPing CAR: Fun boy band idol pop that see-saws between cutesy idol pop and EXILE-light jams.

The Only Three Bollywood Soundtracks You Need, 2015:


01. Amit Trivedi: Bombay Velvet
02. Sanjay Leela Bhansali: Bajirao Mastani
03. A. R. Rahman: Tamasha

Top Ten English Language Pop Albums of 2015:


01. Adam Lambert: The Original High
02. Justin Bieber: Purpose
03. Ellie Goulding: Delirium
04. Selena Gomez: Revival
05. Madeon: Adventure
06. Carly Rae Jepsen: E-MO-TION
07. One Direction: Made in the A.M.
08. Hilary Duff: Breathe In. Breathe Out.
09. Marina and the Diamonds: FROOT
10. Miami Horror: All Possible Futures

Top ten albums of 2015, #1: Ai Otsuka’s LOVE TRiCKY


Ai Otsuka: LOVE TRiCKYaiotsutrickapp

I still haven’t found a sexier song this year than Ai Otsuka’s “affair.” I still haven’t found a better beat  than Ai Otsuka’s “laugh” (BT’s “Lifeline” is the only thing that comes close). I still haven’t found an artist more willing to evolve and change, while staying true to the core, underlying message of all of her albums this year, than Ai Otsuka. There’s always a possibility that this wouldn’t work out for someone else attempting this advanced level of sorcery, but LOVE TRiCKY‘s magic lies in the hands and incantations of producers like STUDIO APARTMENT. Together they’ve conjured the perfect mix of wide-eyed wonder and chilly intimacy. Her sales are doing worse and everyone thinks she’s sounding worse: I think Ai Otsuka is only growing and getting better, willing to take risks that just so happen to keep working out. You can read my further analysis of this album over at the full review here.