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Ode to 16-bit Soundtracks!
Posted on: November 4, 2012
So, I love video game music.
I love it so much that today I’m going to talk only about video game music, specifically, about the game music I remember growing up in the ’90s.
I remember opening up my very first video console, Sega Genesis, one year around Christmas, and popping in my Sonic 2 cartridge with squeals of anticipation. And then, the bright blue streak of Sonic himself, suggesting the fun that would ensue! “Sega!!”
Something about that time was so magical for me. Maybe it was the bright, flashing colors that piqued my initial interest, but as I steadily found my 6-year-old self enraptured by the music in games for Sega Genesis and Super Nintendo. It wasn’t until years later when I dumpster dived an old Nintendo that I was introduced to some of the 8-bit gems from that era. But the 16-bit era… that was when I came onboard. Those two-minute songs, repeating ad nauseam, dug to my brain; the sunny synths and sampled drum sets… Over and over…
Looking back on it, my sharp and unfortunately steep decline into childhood video game addiction may have been fueled by many things: the ennui of growing up in suburban Detroit, lack of physical exercise (I tried T-ball and it did not work for me), social pressures… But, for me, video game music was what really sealed the deal. Video game music was my companion to the experience of gaming, a way to connect the technical to the emotional side of the game. For example, what’s Tetris without the delightful Russian “Korobeiniki” to bring with it a sense of comrade-ery and plodding productivity? Or what about that quirky hemiola in the Super Mario Bros. Theme? Like film and television before games, music has become as pivotal a component to the experience of the medium as graphics or design.
But just as graphics and design have been continually updated, so too has music been pushed to up-the-ante. Today’s games feature state-of-the-art sound effects and lush, fully-orchestrated musical scores that would make the efforts of early video game composers like Koji Kondo and Nobuo Uematsu seem like child’s play. This changed happened really quickly; in less than 20 years. Video games have quickly reached the audial standards of the film and television industries and may even surpass them.
What this leads to is music that is so much more self-conscious than it was a few decades ago. Commercially-produced video game music today is made with different standards in mind, and highly formalized to meet certain conventions. In 1996, Final Fantasy VI’s integrative “Aria di Mezzo Carattere”, “sung” by synthesizer (literally), by game character, Celes (figuratively), and directed by the player (the player must enter lyrics correctly to receive in-game rewards), opened up new avenues for musical experience in gaming. Today, these kinds of musical experiences, like the interweaving of music into the narrative, have become a hallmark of entire genres of video games: rhythm-based games, music management games (or ‘raising sims’), among others.
But, I guess I just have a hankering for those old 16-bit days. Of course, Uematsu must have had some commercial intentions behind his compositions, but something about the lower budget and smaller production teams of those days was different than the musical creative environment in today’s game industry. For a brief time, different aspects of development converged synergistically to produce music that was uninhibitedly simple, repetitive and not concerned with the ears of the population at-large. But that has been largely abandoned in the corporatized gaming world of the past decade. Well, I don’t mean to say that all is lost, and that no one out there is making music that is just as creative and evocative, but, that, as opposed to in the ’80s and ’90s, when video game composers could feel that they were the trailblazers, today’s game composers have to stand in opposition to the normative conventions promoted by higher-budget games to do anything different. It feels like the avant-garde has to be decidedly avant-garde, but I want young video game composers today to create the music that they feel called to create, not music that fits neatly into industry standards.
Well, anyway, for now I can always dust off my old Genesis, blow out the cartridge a few times and get more of that synth-poppy “Emerald Hill Zone” goodness. I’ll still play my high-budget jRPGs… but muted, with the Chrono Trigger OST on repeat.
New Vocaloid Keyboard by Yamaha
Posted on: March 21, 2012
A new type of keyboard by Yamaha allows for live performances of Vocaloid songs. The keyboard works like this: your left hand selects the kana sound you want for your lyrics, your right hand performs the pitch and length of the note you want. And, voila! You get a singing voice! (without all of the labor-intensive programming in Vocaloid editor…)
This new technology raises a few thoughts.
Let’s get Neolithic. Singing started with a voice. The first music was most likely sung. Shortly after that, our ancestors started making instruments to compliment singing. Though they were likely nothing more than bones with holes carved to make a primordial flute, we can think of these early instruments as technologies.
Fast forward a few thousand years. The rise of digital technologies has allowed synthetic instruments to be created and played back via digital audio workstations (like Acid, Fruity Loops, Garageband and Pro Tools) without any physical manipulation. Vocaloid, though somehow linked to the ancient act of singing, has relied on these workstations for the singing to happen.
So, with the Vocaloid keyboard, the historical order of music technology (voice -> instrument -> DAW) is reversed. And, in its place, we have a new order of musical technology: a voice is recorded, synthesized in a DAW, then released in the form of a keyboard.
Imagine a time in the (perhaps not so) distant future, when people might not think of music as coming from physical instruments at all. Music to them might simply be the aural experience of listening to music; it won’t be accompanied by any physical apparatus. As we’ve seen over the course of the twentieth century, not only have playback devices gotten smaller (think of the cell phone in your pocket v.s. a phonograph), but the sources of these sounds are increasingly removed from any physical apparatus (think player piano v.s. Korg DS-10 synth). Sounds cool, but isn’t something missing?
Certainly, things seem to be moving in the direction of smaller to invisible. But, perhaps our innate human desire to tinker with our hands (silly as it is) might override this trend. Maybe we need to have that physical connection to music. Maybe we need to experience the struggle of the performer to appreciate a performance’s value. We need to affirm our connection as listeners to the people who create the music we like. This makes us a part of a musical community, not just passive listeners.
Simon Frith talks about this in his book, “Performing Rights.” He says:
“A good rock concert… is measured by the audience’s physical response, by how quickly people get out of their seats, onto the dance floor, by how loudly they shout and scream. And rock performers are expected to revel in their own physicality too, to strain and sweat and collapse with tiredness… Rock acts conceal not the physical but the technological sources of their sounds; rock audiences remain uneasy about musical instruments that appear to require no effort to be played” (Frith 1996: 125)So, perhaps the listening experience cannot be just an aural activity, and Yamaha is picking up on this feeling of loss. Any fan of Vocaloid knows that it isn’t just about the software, it’s about the community coming together and making music, singing and dancing together. This is something that we innately appreciate as human beings. Nowadays, we’ve got way sweeter instruments than carved out bones, but the sense of community that we get from music is precisely the same.
The new keyboard, while having broad implications in terms of Vocaloid itself or even in the field of music technology, seems to extend beyond the question of “well, is a Vocaloid a singing voice? An instrument? Something else?” This instrument also suggests a fundamental human need for visual performance, an image to match the sound.
For now, Yamaha has no plans to release this product, even though digital instrument sales are on the rise (amid an ever desiccating singles and album sales revenue stream). But, it suggests that Yamaha is aware of our need for a good performance on top of good music. While Vocaloid P’s likely spend millions of collective hours producing Vocaloid content, this effort seems to go unnoticed by listeners. This technology might allow composers an opportunity to show off their virtuosity. Or perhaps it will create a new type of instrumentalist, someone capable of playing a Vocaloid to its broadest emotive depths.
Either way, this instrument is going to start a whole new moe movement… Speaking of which…
- In: Idol Culture | Uncategorized | Vocaloid
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I doubt it.
But, we can hope so.
And it seems thousands of other people feel as strongly as I do. Or perhaps Vocaloid fans are just good at hacking. Even if this isn’t enough to bring Nebula to the Olympics, it’s definitely catching some attention. I heard about it from a friend online, but this article confirms it.
Frankly, I don’t think Queen Elizabeth II would quite know how to take that. I wonder if anyone watching would know the truth behind Vocaloid music producer’s intentions. Perhaps Hatsune Miku performing at that event could give this community a powerful voice.
As much as you can swing Vocaloid fans as being eerily obsessed with a not-quite-real, real-ish 16 year old Japanese girl named Hatsune Miku, it’s not really an accurate portrayal. Vocaloid fans are primarily anti-label, not anti-life. Their primary concern is being able to produce content without the influence of traditional record labels. Certainly, fanmade sexual content is floating around out there, but it’s really more about the ability of people to lay claim to their eternal right to make and share in musical activity. So, for starters, let’s just set that whole “strange Japan” bundle aside, and look at the real material issues out there that effect the works that created Hatsune Miku.
This doesn’t have to be done in a library or court house. We can solve this puzzle together just by listening. I like following along with Vocaloid lyrics, seeing if I can understand what they mean. Let’s not underestimate the P’s animacy in creation of their content here. Metaphors abound. And, there may be camps forming. Groups of P’s with varying philosophical stances toward music production, and the monetary value of music. We can listen to the production quality of the music. Is the texture of the music smooth? Does the song capture my attention? Could someone profit from this music? Let’s not forget that the cheapest labor is and has always been free labor.
Is there something that I’m missing out on? Obviously! There’s tons! Like, is there some tab of the transgressions noted by producers toward the record labels? What about producers who sign to major labels? Or is this, as Raymond Williams suggests, a “structure of feeling?” Is the micro-struggle between the concept of a virtual Japanese idol singer, supported by her producers/consumers, and the assumably conservative reaction in England to these results something worthy of attention? Or is it just a blip in history?
Be it by pure technological shock value or an expression of political-economic turmoil, Hatsune Miku and Vocaloid as a concept seem always to ensnare attention. But often this attention is misdirected toward unproductive means. Vocaloid is a powerful new technology that has the ability to change the game. Our macabre fascination with Hatsune Miku culminates in a question that society must address one day soon.
- In: Idol Culture | Pop
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I recently finished an amazing monograph by Prof. Hiroshi Aoyagi called, “Islands of Eight Million Smiles: Idol Performance and Symbolic Production in Contemporary Japan,” and it got me thinking about how the events of the 60s through 80s (yes, those archaic times before the internet and cell phones) have informed the present. Musically, the Japan of today is more diverse than ever, but remnants of the “culture of cute,” (Aoyagi, 2005) from J-Pop’s formative years, still linger. There is something whole-heartedly nostalgic about the music of those bubbly, vivacious 80s idols. Its a system of attraction so compelling that despite being musically dated, we can still relate to their charisma and seeming innocence. Let’s take a look at one of the top idol songs of the 80s, “Tender Rain” and the idol that carried this tune to success, Takai Mamiko.
Japan in the 80s could have been described as a decadent place. It was the height of the bubble economy, and Japan was at its peak in terms of productivity and economic power after WWII. Having secured its position in a number of international industries (motor vehicles, electronics), people had good jobs, a large expendable income and girl groups, price pointed at the convenient “I guess I’ll buy this thing” level, often had exactly the right formula to attract droves of people itching to burn pocket-money. Mamiko Takai got her start in the wildly successful 80s idol group, Onyanko Club (think: Morning Musume + 80s). This exposure proved successful enough for Takai to begin a solo career. After releasing a few singles in the latter half of the decade, she unexpectedly retired from the stage, marrying her producer, Yasushi Akimoto. Takai isn’t known as the most successful idol of the 80s (a one, Seiko, comes to mind), but her image is famliar to anyone interested in idol culture. She embodies the cute and youthful image of an idol singer: the girl next door, the high-school crush, the confident best friend. These real life fantasies came to life in idols like Takai Mamiko, and therein lies the appeal. Certainly these ideals live on today in idol groups from all around the world, particularly Southeast Asia. It’s interesting to compare the idols of that time and today in Japan and America, and consider the methods of attraction they employ/ed.
Though I wasn’t cognizant enough to experience it first hand (well, I guess I was just a baby then), the arguably greatest American girl idol of the 80s was Madonna. Madonna brought us a new type of female idol; one who used her sexuality as a tool for attraction. 80s Madonna seemed to relish in the controversy surrounding her music videos and live performance, breaking the traditional model of idol singer in America in her wake. She was arguably the first to bring female sexuality to our television screens (this coinciding with the birth and explosion of MTV), and, coming from such a young woman, surprised us all the more. Somehow this all felt deliciously transgressive, even empowering. This was the age of women abandoning the chains of domesticity, entering the workplace, competing against men, wearing sports bras and blazers. Not gonna lie, I’ve gotta rep my fellow Detroiter-turned-New-Yorker for becoming the representative of this movement and taking the reactionary backlash that followed (see: Nine to Five)
But, wait a tic… Madonna doesn’t sound similar to Takai Mamiko at all!
That’s right, Jimmy! Many of the factors that led to Madonna’s success in America simply wouldn’t have been popular enough to garner massive support in Japan. Madonna seems pretty out of place in the conservative atmosphere of Japanese popular music in the 80s. Check out this interview to see what I mean. Perhaps Madonna seemed exotic to 80s Japan, but Japanese consumer tastes by and large preferred “Japanese” Japanese idols. This fact has spurred a kind of ideological “idol battle” between the U.S. and Japan over the past thirty years. This struggle seems to strike at the core of our cultural sentiment. We love pop groups. We hate pop groups. We love individual artists. We hate individual artists. These spontaneous negotiations highlight our rarely static opinions and tastes about ourselves and the sub-cultures we identity with through the music we listen to. The idea that there were few, if any, “American” (by this I mean, “American-style,” or borrowing in musical idiom or image from successful Anglo-American musical acts) Japanese idols, whereas today there is a proliferation of International borrowings occurring in Japan, and to a lesser extent, the West, reminds us that the stances we take toward musical ideas and boundaries are very much subject to change.
This is definitely not something to overlook. So, please keep stopping by for more of my inane rambling on this topic, and a wee blog post (spot of post, anyone?) examining two modern idols, so we can see how this concept has evolved over the years. Until then!! ♪┏(・o･)┛♪
- In: Pop
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In an earlier post, I discussed the characteristics of Ayumi Hamasaki’s voice that established her as one of the greatest J-Pop singers of all time. Today, I’d like to look at things from a different lens, and discuss how and why her voice has become so iconic.
In this interview with CNN’s Talk Asia, Ayu-chan describes her relationship with her own employees and collaborators, and her relationship with broader culture in Asia. Her answers reveal a lot about her the society that supports her success. She takes her work really seriously. I think, now that she’s in her 30’s, she understands in a much deeper way how her success means the success of everyone who works for her, promotes her, the venues she books, the subsidiary companies that handle her merchandising, as well as the artists with whom she collaborates. Seems like a lot of pressure, doesn’t it?
This type of big business (the tie-ins, the commercials, the OPs, all of it) is a branch of marketing called branding. As members of the developed world, we can’t help but experience branding. Branding informs our understanding of everyday events: what can we expect from Whole Foods that we can’t get from Walmart? What can Walmart give us that the Mom & Pop place can’t? Brand names don’t magically appear out of nowhere. Brands are calculated, strategized, researched, proposed… They’re ubiquitous. They aren’t going away any time soon. And, it’s all a conspiracy.
‘Nuff said.
Well, what if we looked at Ayumi Hamasaki as a brand? Certainly, Hamasaki’s image comes into the picture. She seems confident, hard-working, diligent. She’s characteristic of what Carolyn Steven’s describes (in one of my favorite quotes of all time) as a “cyborg female warrior,” an empowered woman of the 21st century, synthetically enhanced by the artificial elements of our culture. Image-wise, this description rings true for Ayumi Hamasaki, who has taken some flak for using too much photoshopping on her album covers¹. I don’t particularly mind that, since a girl’s gotta compete, but, what if we looked at Ayumi’s voice in a similar way as her image.
As any fan of Ayu-chan will know, that girl has been remixed more times that any of us can count. She’s been sped up, slowed down, clipped, snipped, tuned-up and down, and so forth, since her debut. In this respect, doesn’t her voice then match her synthetically perfected look? Why doesn’t she get beef for the fakeness of her voice too?
Perhaps the truth behind her good looks (she’s still got ’em) and the truth behind her voice (always persuasive and virtuosic) contains enough appeal to override this image. Something about Ayumi makes us suspend our disbelief, and want to support her. As opposed to the technological relish of acts like Perfume and Capsule, Ayumi Hamasaki definitely reps the old-school idol tradition. There’s a certain force to her voice that creates an interesting and appealing juxtaposition with her look: neo-cutesy turned tsundere. This struck balance between artifice and authenticity improves Ayu-chan’s appeal to a broad audience with her portrayed as a true suteki na joshi, a modern Japanese wonder woman.
I can’t say I mind her virtual packaging. I think it has helped her to stay fresh throughout the years, and the recent revival of techno-pop in America doesn’t hurt. Ayu-chan ensures her success by lending her voice to Western artists, potentially lucrative associations with Western artists. The artists she collaborates with presumably seek a symbiotic relationship with Hamasaki by capturing greater attention in Japan and forming connections with the formidable Avex Group. Certainly, this critical relationship should be explored further by people such as you and I.
What I want to know is, where can I buy Ayumi’s voice??? By buying her products, I can support her brand. but what if I want to create remixes like the ones I hear in the Ayu-mi-X mixes. I could create a new viral sensation that would make Ayumi super popular!! Or, I could create something that made fun of her, or otherwise attempted to dethrone her. Are her voice image and brand so prized by Avex that they are unwilling to release it? What do they have to lose by releasing those vocal tracks? Or, am I simply (miss)understood?? Perhaps I’m a creepy crazy pervert who just wants to see girls on Nico Nico dance to my music! Perhaps I’m an aspiring DJ, seeking to catch a smack of the fame that seems to waft near Hamasaki. Whatever the truth may be, isn’t it about time that we get to do what we want with Ayumi’s voice?
As Ayumi’s voice brand continues to evolve with the society that supports her, we can see how much Ayumi’s portrayal in that clip is about the people behind her. It’s unsettlingly easy to forget about the forces that shape Ayumi’s brand. It’s pretty safe to assume that these influential figures have a large say in how our ideals are presented to us. Our acceptance and appreciation for these ideals constitutes our say in the trends that shape major label artists’ success. In this little way, we can take control of our own music and culture. Brand portrayals are subject to the whims of popular consciousness just like anything else.
What do you think? Can you think of other ways that a voice can become a brand? Or other artist who exhibit these qualities? I want to hear your opinion!
Follow @xheidenxChara – Crazy for You
Posted on: May 1, 2011
Today, I listened to Chara’s “Crazy for You,” released in 2006 on the Universal Music Japan label¹. To me, this song represents the collaborative spirit of Japanese popular music. The collaboration between Chara, Brilliant Green guitarist, Ryo Matsui, and Shibuya-kei DJ fantastic plastic machine or “FPM” (Tanaka Tomoyuki) works so well, and could potentially draw popularity in the West. Anyone who stumbles upon this song will find something that shines in a completely unconventional way.
Let’s start with the things I didn’t like (‘cuz I don’t play). The song’s tempo of 122 has a kinda neither-here-nor-there feel to it (though good for head-bobbing ala Haddaway’s immortal 1993, “What is Love?”) that leaves me a little flat at the end. FPM’s tasteful additions help keep things bouyant. There’s certainly a freshness to his sound, though I find myself recently yearning to hear something that isn’t quite so trademark FPM. I feel that he could have stretched himself further as a DJ, but the production value of this track is overall high. And, as soon as I get a little bit more quirk from Ryo Matsui in his bridge material, rife with chromaticism, the moment of freshness is quickly made stale by the frumpy chord progression in the chorus.
But, if it’s frumpilicious we’re serving, Chara’s got everything covered with her 森ギャル (forest gal) outfit in the hipster-sheened-out garden. I love it. I’ll have all of it: the vintage tableware, the pastel cotton balls, embroidered flowers and mossy AstroTurf. Her hair — texture, volume, insanity, nattiness. Yes. I think Chara’s hard work really shows in this single. Her lyrics are hauntingly poignant (呼んでいるの今／夢 is particularly heady) and relate well to the feeling of the video… WHAT IS A DOLL?!?! She unleashes quite a bit of creativity, but levels that with a technically brilliant vocal performance. Chara’s delivery as a performer and artist definitely come through, and obviously the Japanese public sensed that talent, as Chara’s following album, Union, achieved a record of 4th place in the weekly Oricon charts in 2007. After all of FPM’s bells and whistles, and Matsui’s hard rockin’, it’s Chara’s voice that keeps me engaged throughout the song. She pulls it off.
So, in short, definitely repping for Chara this week! To the Japanese music industry, I say, please keep supporting artistic collaboration!! And, if you live in Tokyo and you want to support Chara, you can do so at the Liquid Room on May 27th at 18:00². Remember, the fan power starts with… you!!! o(≧∇≦o)(o≧∇≦)o
———-
Today’s Japanese music term (which I may (or may not) continue from here on out):
彼はそのピアノ曲をバイオリン向きに編曲した。 He arranged that piano music for the violin.³
Tokyo Boogie Back – DJ OZMA
Posted on: March 6, 2011
- In: Pop
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Last week, after showing my friend around the city, we made a serendipitous stop at Book Off, the number one purveyor of second-hand Japanese goods in NYC, and primary source for my impulsive J-Pop purchases. *shrug* I of course gravitated to the Japanese CD section (oddly smaller than the one I remember in the previous store), where I stumbled on DJ OZMA’s 2007 single, Tokyo Boogie Back.
I couldn’t find anything else to spend my tuppence on other than this single, and I am so not disappointed. Can’t say I know what the B-side sounds like, because I’ve just been listening to the first track on repeat for the past week. This single is so fun. It’s so up. It’s so everything I’m ashamed to say I love: auto-tune, disco, heavy phase. DJ OZMA is completely perfectly capturing the feeling of a fun Friday night, getting out and having fun with friends, irreverently pointing a finger at authority, ordering drinks, and all other number of things we associate with good times.
I love the beat of this song. It’s very post-disco, light-hearted technopop. Ashamed to admit it, but this is my first listen to DJ OZMA. He was referenced on Hotaru no Hikari, though, so he must be pretty popular. It seems that he has shed his DJ OZMA persona for his new character, Naomi, in Yazima Beauty Salon. The composer of the song is an artist named Gulliver. Can’t say I’ve heard of him/her/them. Let’s just say, given the feel of the song, that he’s a Swedish producer of technopop. If anyone has any information about him, please be so kind as to notify me, because I can’t seem to find any information about him than his association with this song. Regardless, I think he did a great job. I’ve listened to this song non-stop, and I’m sure there will come a day when I simply cease to listen to it out of disgust. But, for now, I’m boogieing back to the Friday night, yeah!
AAA – 負けない心 (Undefeated Heart)
Posted on: February 10, 2011
- In: Pop
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Okay. It’s true. I haven’t posted in over THREE MONTHS… But, I haven’t forgotten about this blog. I haven’t forgotten about my urgent need to proclaim to all my opinions on the latest J-Pop hits. With that in mind, what have I missed over these past few months? Seems there’s a new single from pop group AAA. I wrote about them earlier. Let’s take a look at their new single, Makenai Kokoro.
Like Aitai Riyuu, Makenai Kokoro is written and produced by Tetsuya Komuro. I don’t even have to look at Wikipedia to tell. Everything about it screams “Komuro Dance Pop!” It’s quite a bit simpler than Aitai Riyuu in terms of harmonic progression. The melody bases itself primarily around a descending sequence that appears in various iterations throughout the song. I have to hand it to Komuro for coming up with the little passing chord trick in the first verse. (If you keep the base on tonic for the second chord of a descending 5-6 sequence (second inversion), you can move up stepwise. It’s kind of hot.)
This time, the groups dances more, though there is still a lot of staring passionately into the camera and anguished hand gestures. I now see what Shuta does in the group, cuz his moves are awesome! (He’s the one in the white hat.) The other members, particularly Chiaki and Misako (mind you, Misako is dancing in heels), need to up their game, especially given the competition from Korean girl groups recently. It seems like Korean groups place stronger emphasis on dancing, and Japanese groups focus more on vocals and the music. But, I suppose I shouldn’t judge until I’ve tried it. Well, I have… in the form of The Michael Jackson Experience… and, you don’t want to see the results…
All in all, Makenai Kokoro was really successful. The single reached no. 3 in the Oricon Weekly charts, and sold 58,000 copies. Seems they haven’t saturated the market yet. All in all, the same critique I had of Aitai Riyuu applies here. There’s a lot going on. And listening to it too many times will inevitably give you a headache. Their moves may be a little hokey, but the music is great. I especially enjoyed hearing Chiaki’s solo in the first verse. It’s nice to hear a softer, alto voice in the mix. If I see this single at Book Off (so far, haven’t caught any of their singles at Book Off or Kinokuniya), I’ll definitely buy it. Somehow, despite my criticisms, I want to support these guys, in all of their wondrous, commercial, bubbly, dancey-ness.
Ayumi Hamasaki + Visual Kei?
Posted on: December 16, 2010
- In: Pop | Rock | Visual Kei
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Hi, all! In today’s post, I’ll talk more about Ayumi Hamasaki’s latest singles Moon and Crossroad and their relation to the Visual Kei genre (disparate as the two seem).
Recently, I’ve been talking a lot about Ayumi Hamasaki here. But, I also am really interested in other genres, like Visual Kei. I like to think about the various themes that make up our expectations (or stereotypes) about Visual Kei. Rose images appear frequently in Visual Kei. If you know a little about Visual Kei, or have seen videos or photos of these artists, you know that those groups love to adorn their outfits, sets and lyrics with references to roses of all colors. Particularly prominent is the red rose image, romanticized in the ’70s shojo anime, The Rose of Versailles¹.
Let’s look at the ways that Visual Kei has branched out into more mainstream J-Pop in the past decade. Several bands have softened their image to fit into a more mainstream market, while retaining some elements of their Visual Kei personae². Most famously, the singer Gackt moved from VK frontman to idol-like celebrity status. In addition to this, some already mainstream J-Pop artists have embraced their VK side. One recent example of this is Ayumi Hamasaki.
We all remember April’s “Rock and Roll Circus” with its “dash of commercial J-rock”⁸. How could we forget Ayu-chan’s über-embellished black dress from the “Microphone” PV³? At once, it melded the sophisticated look of Hizaki⁴ with the fiesty get up of Amuro Namie⁵ and over-the-top postmodernist Lady Gaga⁶. Of course, only Ayumi Hamasaki could pull off this dress. The rock sound of the single matches the fashion perfectly, and so we get the hybrid-taste that Hamasaki has been delving into recently.
This hybridity is further explored in MOON. The look has been toned down quite a bit. Instead of hard rock goth, we get a more romantic stylization. The colorization of the MV is gorgeously subdued. Ayumi appears in a white dress on a red leather love seat. The set is filled to the brim with gothic artifacts (crystal cups and vases, gloomy busts, red roses, cherries, red velvet drapes, etc. etc. etc.), and everything clearly fits into the black/white/red theme. The porcelain-like figure of Ayumi goes through several anguished poses and looks of exasperation, moving to a cadence at「震える声で聞かないで愛している？」(“In a wavering voice, ‘do you love me?'”).
How is Ayumi Hamasaki able to seamlessly mold herself into various genres? I don’t know for sure, but part of the answer lies in the production of idol entertainers and the strong demand for conformity. In some cases, this conformity presents itself in a “cutesy” style. This has to do with the industrialization of character creation: “there is a point in which [idol trainees] embrace the cute character as part of themselves. That’s when they really grow”⁷. Idol trainees must sacrifice their individuality for market demands, and this is exactly where the pro, Ayumi Hamasaki, excels. If market research done at Avex points to a large community of Visual Kei fans (especially online, where information is readily accessible), then Ayumi will take on the role she needs to play to optimize her success. She approaches her performances with professionalism, and is able to instantly adapt to global trends. In this way, she has been able to revitalize her career from her high-point earlier this decade.
In short, what we see in the “Ayumi Hamasaki” and “Visual Kei” fusion is a perfect, polystyrene package of current industry trends, market research and pre-packaged chord progressions. Ayumi has no trouble pulling it out of her sleeve convincingly, but her higher ups aren’t doing a good enough job of really grasping these markets. Visual Kei fans value a certain kind of authenticity (it’s not just wigs, make-up and special effects). It’s like loving of B-movie: forgetting about the corniness/shoddiness, and relishing the “small-scale” freedom. If anything, the quasi-gothic stylization of today’s Ayumi gives a little nod toward the Visual Kei crowd, and those guys (and girls (and girly-guys)) should give themselves a pat on the back! If Ayumi Hamasaki is taking up Visual Kei, then we know the genre is here to stay!
- In: Pop
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If there’s any J-Pop idol that I respect in terms of professionalism, it’s Ayumi Hamasaki. She is a brand in and of herself, and has sustained a career for longer than any other “idol.” Needless to say, Ayumi Hamasaki is among the greatest figures in J-Pop today. My introduction to Ayumi Hamasaki came at the age of 10. Ayu-chan’s 1997 single, “Depend on You,” was one of the first J-Pop songs I heard, since it was included in the Atlus game, “Thousand Arms”. As a boy, I fell in love with her style, presence and uniqueness. In particular, there’s just something really appealing about her voice, which, like fellow songstress Utada Hikaru, is completely original. It’s instantly recognizable; you listen to her songs and think, “oh, that’s Ayu-chan, for sure!” But, what elements distinguish Ayu-chan from other J-Pop singers?
Where Utada Hikaru’s voice is quavering and emotive (a beautiful aesthetic also), Hamasaki’s is powerful and resonant. Her vibrato is extremely wide and slow, and she’s selective about which notes, and when, she vibrates. It’s not uncommon to listen to an entire passage and only hear her vibrate on one or two notes. In my opinion, Hamasaki started the stereotypical idol trend of infrequent, wide vibrato, but she really is the master of this technique.
Hamasaki sings mostly from the throat. I understand that this is a completely un-American approach to singing, and also can be damaging to the vocal chords. Because she tenses her throat, she is able to create a type of vocal portato between notes (disconnected, yet articulated repeated notes). Her articulation is also very clear, because of the amount of pressure it requires to overcome the tensing of the throat. This strain is a part of her vocal aesthetic, and the bukkari (girlish) style in general. Of course, her diction is also fabulous. Every syllable is distinct and perfectly intelligible, even to a gaijin like me.
Part of the distinguishing elements of Ayu-chan’s voice is also its flaws. She sings, at times, painfully flat. I’m aware that this may be due to her partial deafness. But sometimes the flatness of her voice is off-puttingly low, almost a half-step flat for entire passages. I imagine this is due to her vocal straining, artificially pushing her notes flat. And, compared to the virtuosic range of American singers like Mariah Carey, Ayu-chan’s range is fairly limited. Because of the tense quality of her voice, her highs make me wince a little bit. Think: Alvin and the Chipmunks… But, this is just a part of the “Ayu package.” Her power is impressive, but, without employing the classical style, it comes at some costs.
Despite its flaws, Ayumi Hamasaki’s voice is a crucial element to her success. Without it, she wouldn’t be “Ayumi Hamasaki: The Product”. Reading and listening to her interviews, I think she’s aware of her stance in the larger scheme of the Japanese music industry, and takes it very seriously. She really hasn’t stepped outside of her idiosyncratic style. If anything, her latest chart-topping singles seem to resurrect her 1998/1999 sound, and to great avail. I expect that Ayumi will always be the Ayumi that everyone (well, almost everyone) knows and loves.
J-Pop Write-Up 