koinodancesite

[koinodancesite]

"Swing Swing Paradise"

Coupled with "Happy birthday to Me!"

Release date: December 21, 2022

Oricon Weekly placement: 1st

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Rio Sakurai, Sakura Oda

From Tsunku's point of view, Morning Musume could've used a song where the idols can show off their skills as not just singers and dancers but also professional entertainers. If that's what the group needed going into "Swing Swing Paradise" so they can stand out of the ever-growing crowd of idol pop, it didn't get more "entertainment" than a concept of "Broadway in space."

"I pitched that theme to the music-video director," Tsunku wrote in his Self-liner Note blog post. "I wanted this image of outer space to connect with the night scene [in the second verse]." The world-building of the video for "Swing Swing Paradise" got done in inverse to the song's lyrical structure: the performance as this dispatch of a cabaret from a distant star was established in its intro rather than the second half. But the playful fusion aesthetic remains faithful to the pop and color animating the flashy electro-swing production, arranged by Shoichiro Hirata.

Take the descriptor of electro-swing more objectively if you could, at least for the sake of shaking off ever slightly the quaint, novelty-like feel that term can apply to the song. Think of it more like an Updated version -- as in, the EDM facelifts done to Golden-era classics in The Best! Updated Morning Musume compilation from 2013 -- of their past dip into swing jazz, namely "Mr. Moonlight (Ai No Big Band)." The swing here, though, is present more in the rhythm than musical flourishes with the arrangement's dominantly electronic touch preventing it from being bald pastiche. The synth's brash tones in particular echo the buzzes and screeches of 2014 singles like "What Is Love?"

Perhaps what Tsunku sees as this sense of entertainment that he hopes to draw out from the group, this swing-driven playfulness is scattered throughout. The ad libs serves as the most prominent hook, the oohs and ahhs adding a fun accent in between the verses. Most of the group's lyrical play however appears as a rather minor decoration with attention to them overtaken by the flashiness of the larger spectacle. The cutesy syntax -- "the heart goes chu chu, kira kira / Mr. Star in the Night Sky, just keep looking at me" -- read too granular in detail, like a smidget of glitter among a production blasting off confetti.

And for all the swing and scenes of the idols ready to indulge in all-out disco fun, the chorus is left in ambiguity. "For you / I'm willing to do anything you want," Morning Musume sing, "but the thing you want to do / is something only you can know." This is partly by design by Tsunku, who wrote the lyrics in hopes to call out to the members to figure out on their own what they exactly want as they go on about their lives. I wish it read less didactic and more instead as a way to tease as they dangle the reward of pleasure and satisfaction.

As live entertainment and dance-performance vehicle, the electro-swing single livens up the group with fun choreography to match. But as the song goes, the jazz is more window dressing in "Swing Swing Paradise," costuming another song built for self-reflection familiar to the stoic singles of the Numeral era. Not that the dance floor can't be a stage in which to introspect as Morning Musume has proven it very much can be in their past songs. But the expressed indecisiveness makes for a rather awkward fit with music so eager to throw all inhibitions to get down.

[6]

[koinodancesite]

"Dai Jinsei Never Been Better!"

Coupled with “Chu Chu Chu Bokura No Mirai”

Release date: June 8, 2022

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Morning Musume rarely sound pompous on record. So when they do allow themselves to indulge in selfishness as they claim what's sure is theirs in "Dai Jinsei Never Been Better!," they don't hold back in the slightest. The idols open the single with arrogance as much as elegance. "Because isn't all this mine for the taking," they sing a rhetorical question of a lyric to the tune of their own harmonizing vocals backing them as a kind of divine choir. But as lavish as they act, they can't but stay true to their altruistic personality as they wield their self-importance only to qualify the most wholesome truth: life has so much to offer, and Morning Musume are staking out the whole reserve.

"Dai Jinsei Never Been Better!" displays this optimistic outlook of the world that's beautifully sincere as it is intimately familiar. The breezy funk music here gives off a classic feel, and Tsunku seems to agree. On the single's liner notes, the producer likens the song's arrangements to Motown R&B, which inspires him to reminisce about the music of Earth, Wind & Fire he loved growing up. That particular sound also taps into somewhere more personal as hinted by how the producer describes the arrangement, done by Shunsuke Suzuki, as "Tsunku funk." As a longtime fan, the brassy music also recalls in me the anthems of the Golden era, singles like "Soda! We're Alive" where lively funk music similarly led a celebration on life and prosperity.

Backed by timeless music that echoes the group's own legacy, the message in "Dai Jinsei Never Been Better!" sounds right at home on a Morning Musume record. Their display of humor as always sees them grab for the quotidian in equal measure as their deeper pieces of philosophy: "Wear the clothes I want to wear / choose whatever I want to eat," the idols sing charming details of what constitutes an unrestricted lifestyle through their eyes. And the group's life perspective remain unchanged more than two decades later with the idols coming in terms with the lows before they allow themselves to relish in the highs in this key lyric: "The waves are proof that life is fair."

The group's understanding of this order of the world has been deeply felt across nearly their entire discography. But what separates "Dai Jinsei Never Been Better!" from the anthems of past generations is how the idols sing about this reality with such a stronger sense of clarity. Riding the bright highs of the funk music, the sunny voices of Morning Musume let appreciation be felt even in the harsher ends of their truths. "If it has a shape, it will break," they note like an obvious fact before moving on to the reward that awaits them: "but we can imagine without limits."

Maybe their confidence is built on some exaggeration. After all, Morning Musume choose to express their feelings in absolutes: "never never never never been better!" And sure enough, their turn to the extreme scrubs away their own admission to vulnerability despite them legibly spelling it out: "I'm feeling a bit down / I wish you'd notice," they sigh at the end of the chorus before the funk arrangement immediately lets the light back in. The idols hardly linger on the thought, more eager to get back into the vacation mood. It appears too brief to conflict with the joyous tenor of the song, though it still hangs at the back of my mind as the celebration continues to unfold.

When I listen to "Dai Jinsei Never Been Better!" I'm reminded of the group's "I WISH," perhaps from them releasing a self-cover of it earlier that year. I think about the latter song's extended intro that sets the scene for what follows. Our protagonist spends one late night sad and lonely, feeling like the only person on Earth suffering from deep misery. When all hope seems lost, they receive a dumb text from a friend that gets them crying from laughter, and the tears won't stop. Then they snap back into reality, uttering a reminder to themselves that has become one of my all-time favorite Morning Musume lyrics: "I know myself better than anyone else / so I got to believe in myself more than anyone else."

Life is what one makes it, so why not make the best of every little bit of it? Or so "I WISH" seems to say. Its grand chorus resonates as a reminder for all the beauty out there that's within reach but, for me, like that protagonist who must learn how to have faith in themselves, it's also something to repeat to myself until I also believe it to be true. "Dai Jinsei Never Been Better!" holds a similar power of instilling faith: I want to embody that certainty expressed by Morning Musume to not only believe in life's potential but to claim as mine to fulfill. While maybe they, too, are trying to convince themselves of this as the idols let slip their insecurities in the process, Morning Musume sound the most equipped to rightfully claim what's been theirs for the taking.

[9]

[koinodancesite]

“Chu Chu Chu Bokura No Mirai”

Coupled with “Jinsei Never Been Better!”

Release date: June 8, 2022

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura,  Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki   Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

The shakuhatchi flutes of "Chu Chu Chu Bokura No Mirai" were initially a hard sell, though maybe Kaoru Ookubo wasn't all to blame. A different kind of flute, I presume, but they rang close enough in memory for me to the one squeaking in the deranged production behind NCT 127's "Sticker," released about a year prior, for the Morning Musume song to echo some secondhand dissonance. Listening back, Ookubo's arrangement is nowhere as screwball, but on the other hand, it could use some loosening of screws: it remains steely to a fault, sucking away any potential dynamism, and a general stiffness dulls "Chu Chu Chu Bokura No Mirai" as a whole.

Behind an already-steely production, the idols' unaffected cool begins to sound monotonous than it does stoic. Their performance of cool in itself fits in tune to the narrative that deals with self-confidence and emotional clarity: "It's up to me," they sing in the opening refrain before they think openly about writing their own future. But other than few accents of extra bombast to prep for the chorus, the song hardly offers peaks and valleys, with moments of epiphany framed in the same serious tone as moments of questioning.

And there are genuine moments in "Chu Chu Chu Bokura No Mirai" that would add some humanity to a perfectionist idol group if only the song highlighted them as such. "We can't look into / 100 years into the future," the idols sing in the chorus. "We build the present / but who should we live for?" This humbling self-reflection arrives, too, after speaking as a role model: "You're going to grow up soon / a border made by someone else / you're already magnificent," they assure after describing a society mired by pressure. The song elevate neither parts, with one bleeding into the other.

To be fair, the ability to sing of both victories and tragedies as one juxtaposed stream of thought has been the magic behind the best Morning Musume songs. "Chu Chu Chu Bokura No Mirai" also mashes together two seemingly separate conversations with the idols aspiring to rise above society in the first verse and then indulging in vanity in the second, talking about wanting to be a billionaire and pursue on their own infatuation. But the randomness sounds too streamlined for it to stand out as a quirk, their stony cool delivering them all in the same tone. Morning Musume have impressed in the past with their stoic demeanor, but "Chu Chu Chu Bokura No Mirai" shows stoicness can also be a crutch.

[5]

[koinodancesite]

“Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino”

Coupled with “Teenage Solution” and “Beat No Wakusei”

Release date: December 8, 2021

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura,  Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki   Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Morning Musume hardly play coy of their intent behind "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino." It's all openly displayed in the title, a pouty request to be petted on the head (yoshi yoshi), which the idols spin into a nagging central refrain as well as a point move in the choreography. But they also remain too true to their character for their own good, unable to fully commit to their attemped act of vanity. Before they can completely indulge in the chorus, they quickly put back on a cool, unaffected face in order to maintain the emotionally stoic personality established at least since the beginning of the Numeral era.

The stubbornness in "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino" calls to my mind songs from their sister groups. I'm thinking in particular of Juice=Juice's single "'Hitoride Ikiraresou'-tte Sorettenee, Hometeiruno?," where their reputation of being seemingly self-sufficient turns into a crutch. Not as overtly referential to the tough and cool as the electric guitar licks of Juice=Juice's record, but the airtight electro-pop production of "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino" communicates a similar steeliness that spares no room for humor: besides the titular hook and the sentimental shojo refrain, the Tsunku-isms here are conservative, with it relegated to syntax than any singular turns of phrase.

That said, the idols lets in on a sneak peek at a rather dark reason behind their obsession to keep up this facade of perfection. "My smile is my self-defense," they sing in the second verse, and they reiterate on and on about how practically every bit of their professional behavior is their defense mechanism against being perceived, yes, as Tsunku decides to put it, a sentimental shojo -- a too-sensitive girl who doesn't have her shit together. The sheer repetition telegraphs how exhausting an act it is, but their resigned sigh through it all sounds even more heartbreaking with the assumption being they've long given up on anyone hearing them out.

Morning Musume is a prisoner of their own doing in "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino." Their reputation as a perfection-obsessed idol group validates the narrative within. But to confuse their lack of displaying of emotion as them being entirely indifferent to emotion would be just feeding into a self-fulfilling cycle. Coincidentally, "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino" is among the first singles with their accompanying music videos being absent of closed captions of its lyrics and its English translations -- one has to read between the lines even closer to see how the idols really feel. And it's cruel how the steeliness of the production but also the idols' performance scrubs any hint of their true insecurity from rising to the surface.

[7]

[koinodancesite]

“Teenage Solution”

Coupled with “Yoshiyoshishitehoshino” and “Beat No Wakusei”

Release date: December 8, 2021

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura,  Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki   Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Arriving about a year after “Love Pedia,” “Teenage Solution” complicates the well established personality of Morning Musume’s 15th generation. If the music video to the former song reflected any bit of their on-screen character, the three’s bubbly, almost painfully wholesome personality really showed through: this is a trio whose youngest member urges that you refer to pandas with an honorific while the second youngest has made yakiniku her entire personality. But instead of cutesy synths, a melodramatic string arrangement opens “Teenage Solution” like rolling thunder. The three are the first voices you hear, coming off stern and emotionally closed off: “I won’t let anyone notice it / my cooled emotions.”

True to the song’s title, the three now seem to enter their rebel phase of their young lives. They can’t seem to feel satisfied no matter what they do nor can they figure out what exactly they need. The pre-chorus in particular sees the idols constantly trying to find their footing on the melody, syncing with the idols’ own discomfort in their own heads. The lines run on like they don’t know where to pause and punctuate as they get involved in a restless mental push and pull: “Like I did last year, I want to spend the night at a friend’s house (I want to) / but if I did, this part, right here, gets angry, saying / ‘muu, it’s not supposed to be like that.’” Suddenly, everything has changed from their body, their relationships, to their life perspectives.

The parenthetical in those particular lyrics are uttered by the 15th generation in a deadpan voice. Their stern one-liners culminate in the bridge as their inner monologues crowd the track before they close out with a mic drop of a script: “It’s just that there are times. without even thinking about it, when I get really annoyed -- of myself.” Of course, the rest of Morning Musume also sings in “Teenage Solution,” and yet the song positions more focus on the 15th generation as its main protagonist through its structure, if not its theme. “Teenage solution / no one can solve it / ah, even if you’re older than me / you can’t just yet / even with your love,” they sing, putting up a wall as teenagers do, and it’s not difficult to fit the senior-junior dynamic into this scene.

The unsettling, hard-to-soothe personality also informs the music of “Teenage Solution” for better or worse. The song offers hardly any release as the emotional tension tightens without rest. As mentioned, the pre-chorus is difficult to grasp with its lack of immediate hooks and an elusive melody that its singers seem to trip up on; the chorus ultimately doesn’t provide much of a resolve after the idols raise the anxiety levels more and more in the pre-chorus. The music starts to feel secondary as an aid to the unfolding narrative, giving little point of entry for the uninitiated.

“Teenage Solution” better intrigues as a character study than a song proper. Even in the context of the group as a whole beyond just the 15th generation, it’s not so typical to hear Morning Musume sound so full of inner angst. The idols seemed in tune with their emotions for a while since the Numeral era kicked off, embracing even their negative facets as opportunities rather than flaws. But here, they not only struggle to articulate the feeling but they also fail to find the root. If the music sounds restless and oblique, it’s arguably only reflective of the head space of the idols themselves.

[5]

[koinodancesite]

“Beat No Wakusei”

Release date: December 8, 2021

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki  Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Morning Musume ‘21 members teased “Beat No Wakusei” as a throwback before its release, specifically as a song carrying the vibes of “Utakata Saturday Night!” Can’t say they were wrong. Arranged by Erik Libdom, the production bears a lush disco sound that plays out more straightforward in style than the EDM flourishes of their past few singles. And like “Utakata Saturday Night!,” the “dance the night away” attitudes signature to disco are also made explicit from the title on: In “The Planet of Beats,” which the idol group calls its anthem, the members search the whole galaxy for a reprieve in the form of the perfect beat.

If Morning Musume are nursing a wound in “Beat No Wakusei,” the idols do a good job of sweeping it under the rug. They preface the song with how things aren’t going so well for them, though it reads more like general scene-setting to allow the rest of the song to commence. The bubbliness of the disco beat quickly solves any bitterness rising from the verses, and Ameko Kodama crafts even those brief words about failures into fun pop: I’m not really sure if there’s another pop song out there that strings together the mnemonic for the planets into pure joy.

The chorus fully indulges in the positivity-first attitude, and it not so subtly positions the song’s jolliness as a product of design. “Let’s dance heartbeat dance,” the idols sing while doing some finger-pointing moves partly engineered to go viral on TikTok. The lyrics are admittedly not so inventive or artful, and the choreography doesn’t help matters either. Though, this is also disco, a genre more welcoming of cliches and workmanlike lyrics in so far as it contributes to the intended function to get people dancing.

That said, Morning Musume don’t let the bubbliness of the music scrub away their personality entirely. They hang up talks about work ethic for one night, though they still ensure their professionalism remains intact: “Hating on somebody doesn’t make me happy or strong,” they sing, opting instead to embrace love as they feel the beat. And the disco ends up helping to soften their sometimes-stubborn mind as they settle on a temporary answer to their problems: “Life, it’s everyone’s first time / We can just make up the meaning of it,” they suggest without lingering too long on the subject as if to not allow any second guessing. Don’t think too much, the idols seem to promote in “Beat No Wakusei.” And you don’t have to think so hard.

It feels like a minute since we saw Morning Musume cutting loose and wearing such joyous smiles as they do here. Sure, there was “Love Pedia” a couple years back that introduced the then-new 15th generation girls and their freshness. But when it comes to pop silliness in a disco package – a vibe they were known for during the Golden era – there hasn’t been a single like it arguably since 2017 with a record like “Jealousy Jealousy.” Especially as it’s slotted alongside more serious-minded tracks in the triple A-side single, “Beat No Wakusei” provides a refreshing break in both sound and mood.

[7]

[koinodancesite]

“Renai Destiny ~Honne Wo Ronjitai~”

Released: March 31, 2021

Featured in: 16th ~That’s J-pop~

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda 

An exciting selection in recent Morning Musume live sets has been the inclusion of “Koko Ni Iruze!” Though it was released during the Golden era, still the group’s most widely celebrated period by the public at large, more titles from that time rank higher in popularity, so the decision to feature it in their festival sets reads like a salvaging of an old favorite. It even seems purposeful as they slot it as the show closer. The gesture especially left a mark on me at last year’s Hina Fes during the first weeks of worldwide quarantine, the group’s lyrics “spread the wings of love / I’m here, I’ll scream it right here right now” echoing as they exit the stage. 

I wonder if “Koko Ni Iruze!” was on the mind of Tsunku when he was writing “Renai Destiny ~Honne Wo Ronjitai~.” He has shared that the music in the group’s new album 16th ~That’s J-Pop~ was ready even before their Rock’in Japan 2019 set, where I first saw that they brought the Golden era single back into their repertoire. But that rock swing calls to mind “Koko Ni Iruze!” and nostalgia punches through even harder as it arrives after an intense synth intro. The song teases yet another EDM cut in the vein of their output from their last few years only to reveal an entirely different track that harkens back to another period.

The tone of their lyrics, too, reflect more of the optimistic attitude heard in the Golden era. “Don’t give up / it’s still a bit too early / look, they even look like / they want to give up / now’s the time to get over this hump / the chance to step outside the lines,” they sing. They cheerfully advise as though we have nothing to lose by trying, and they go on as if admitting defeat is a ridiculous idea especially with so much potential still left unfulfilled. Morning Musume only see possibility and the room to do better.

The group’s outlook remains bright enough in “Renai Destiny” for them to deliver their more conflicting moments with the same inspiring aura. Even when they sing about an overwhelming clash of emotions, it reads like a necessary step to become the better version of themselves. “This sorrow / this passion overflowing from my heart / or this feeling of doubt / can I rise above it?” They wonder, but it’s immediately followed by powerful clarity delivered in the chorus, bursting with blinding synths and thrashing drum beats. Their lack of understanding ends up being the very key to realizing the mission stated in the subtitle: “I want to debate what’s true.”

All that said, “Renai Destiny” is not so much a revival of the past than it is an update of ideas by building off of the highs of different eras. The early Numeral era, particularly “Oh My Wish!” and its desire to improve, is equally represented in the song as much as “Koko Ni Iruze!” By shedding the shadows of doubt looming in the former and straightening the posture of the latter, you can argue it has become the best of worlds. The center of this Venn diagram is where you can find one of the most memorable lyric of the track: “zenbu yattarou / zenbu yattare,” or “watch me do everything / I’ll do everything.” They drop their formalism to reveal a truer language, like this is for real now. Morning Musume is ready to tackle the unknown in “Renai Destiny,” and they sound invincible as they face the challenges.

[8]

[koinodancesite]

Morning Musume ‘20

Another year with Morning Musume closes, and the group has brought us five new songs throughout the 12 months. These releases are also the first singles with the new 15th generation, who I am really excited to see what they are capable of. Here is what we covered:

“Kokoro & Karada” [8]

“Ningen Kankei No Way Way” [7]

“Love Pedia” [6]

“Junjou Evidence” [6]

“Gyuu Saretaidakenanoni” [7]

[koinodancesite]

“Gyuu Saretaidakenanoni”

Coupled with “Junjou Evidence”

Release date: December 16, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: TBD

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki  Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

If its other half, “Junjou Evidence,” remained a bit lyrically coy on what it tried to get across -- for one, what exactly is the “evidence of innocence” anyway? -- “Gyuu Saretaidakenanoni” is so obvious about its feelings that it would be simply foolish to call any attempt to grab attention here a hint. But Morning Musume’s eye candy here is unfortunately dull enough to not recognize the idols’ gestures even if they hit him on the head. The idols, meanwhile, sound rightfully frustrated.

“Gyuu” begins by making a lyrical callback to a Morning Musume ‘17 album cut, “Watashi No Nannimo Wakacchanai,” almost literally. Like they do in the 15 Thank You, Too song, the idols harp on the song’s main point -- “nanmo wakattenaijanai,” or “you just don’t understand anything” -- repeatedly like they’re putting him in the hot seat. It pairs with the also-repetitive nature of the EDM beat with each run of the throbbing loop onsetting a bigger ounce of guilt, or so seems their strategy. They conclude their guilt-tripping session by emphasizing how neglected they’ve been, and no other lyrics get seared deeper into memory than “usagi-chan syndrome.”

That instantly-viral “bunny syndrome” lyric aside, the contents so far read woefully serious. The chorus sings about regaining control, and sung over a familiar EDM backdrop, it can remind of another “taking the hand of the wheel” song like “Help Me!!” (Funny how that single, too, squeezes in Tsunku-isms before a chorus about taking back glory.) But “Gyuu” doesn’t aspire to speak on any greater ambition other than relieving their own desire for attention. Morning Musume don’t provide much base in the song for it to become some deeper metaphor. It’s all in the title: “I just want you to hold me tight.” Nothing more. 

The EDM music carves out a space for Morning Musume to not care for guile or profundity, and it allows for a self-centered persona to come to the forefront. Kaoru Ookubo’s arrangements sound slightly more garish than Shoichiro Hirata’s for “Junjou Evidence.” The loud club synths surely recall the first wave of EDM that peaked during the Colorful Era, but the booming buzzsaw bass line also reminds me of brash-in-retrospect third-wave K-pop that took influence from post-crunk R&B as well as Timbaland and Danja. The datedness brings out some kitsch into the song’s personality, setting up an appropriate place for the idols to fill with shameless playfulness and boasting.

The brashness also helps solve some of Morning Musume’s more aggressive antics as if the loud music is there to distract from the bluntness of the lyrics. The way Morning Musume are drunk on their own desires recall “Shabondama,” particularly in the chorus when they let slip this thinly veiled threat: “do you want me to cry in the middle of this street?” But unlike Rika Ishikawa in that old single, it’s hard to detect any spike in emotion from them; they instead resemble the composed manner of any of their other post-Colorful songs. What I took away from “Gyuu” initially was how frustratingly oblivious the other person was in not getting the hint. But read a bit closer, and it’s clear Morning Musume are not such an easy group to answer to. 

[7]

[koinodancesite]

“Junjou Evidence”

Coupled with “Gyuu Saretaidakenanoni”

Release date: December 16, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: TBD

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Edgy choreography and dynamic drone shots aren’t perhaps enough to cover up the relatively conservative music of “Junjou Evidence.” The EDM programming comes from arranger Shoichiro Hirada, whose squealing synths echo the just-released “Love Pedia” as well as other dance-centric singles like “Renai Hunter” and “Are You Happy?” Some choices also recall the Colorful era, like the glitching vocal processing and especially the ad-libbing of “oh no baby” in the verses as though it’s willfully reenacting “Tiki Bun.”

However, while the music by itself can point to Morning Musume’s stubbornness to consistency, “Junjou Evidence” heads into a slightly different lane than terrains often covered by past Numeral-era works on the lyrical front. The schemes and come-ons of “Junjou Evidence” may not feel too drastic of a move after a trio of songs from earlier this year that also explore love and bridging a connection at some capacity. The familiar-feeling beats probably don’t help draw out much novelty from it either. But the group had spent more than a half-decade singing about an altruistic lifestyle and the stresses from trying to live up to such an idealistic life without much fun and romance in between. A more self-indulgent song after a series of meditations of such serious topics seems like a flip of a switch.

The big themes and grand statements still live on in “Junjou Evidence,” though they tend to justify rather self-centered ends. “It’s no point of talking about a dream,” the idols sing; “your glory is a thing of the past / it doesn’t apply to you in the future,” they continue in the pre-chorus. These bold declarations about actions over words read like noble advice, more so when the idols sing those lyrics with their usual stoic demeanor. Yet they all lead to a chorus that’s more vain than what those lyrics suggest. The narrowing to a shallower detail feels like the opposite of “Oh My Wish,” where the fear to make a move works up to a greater messaging of words of ambition.  

The self-centered voice defines “Junjou Evidence” apart from the group’s recent works, and all that said, it’s a welcome change in tone after sticking to an earnest mode. They’re fully aware of how forthcoming they sound: “you can examine that / I’m cocky, aren’t I,” they sing in the chorus, just waiting for the other person to get a full look at who they’ve become. However obvious and cliche his chosen key phrases -- hiding acne, the titular “evidence of innocence” -- Tsunku leave some of what they’re trying to project to the imagination. What’s definitely clear is that Morning Musume want to show off a more grown, adult, confident self. From the dynamic feel of the music to their flaunting gestures, “Junjou Evidence” sells what the group intends to achieve.

[6]

[koinodancesite]

“Tokyo Bijin”

Released: Aug. 28, 2002

Featured in: Dainisho ~Tsuyogari~

Member: Yuko Nakazawa

While Yuko Nakazawa’s first single since graduating Morning Musume had her indulge in a moody side, she quickly softens her personality in the breezy follow-up, “Tokyo Bijin.” Returning as her arranger, Yuichi Takahashi pivots sharply from what he brought to the oriental “Shanghai No Kaze” to a lighter sound indebted to classic ‘60s pop. It sounds close to “Dokki Doki Love Mail,” the debut song of Aya Matsuura, another Hello! Project act whose popularity was skyrocketing in 2002. 

“Tokyo Bijin” shares a sound as well as theme with “Dokki Doki Love Mail,” both written by none other than Tsunku. Nakazawa sings about a classic J-pop tale of a person who’s transitioning to a life in the big city. She has sung about a similar predicament before in “Furusato” with her former group Morning Musume. The woes attached to that prior single, however, are presumed to belong to a group of young women who just moved to Tokyo. Many of the members at the time, including Nakazawa, are from outside prefectures, and their call-out to their mothers in the single hits emotional considering that they were everyday women just a couple years prior.

“Tokyo Bijin,” meanwhile, was released five years after the debut of Morning Musume, so Nakazawa has put in some time trying to get used to the big city. And indeed, “Tokyo Bijin” carries with it a different perspective than a transition song like “Dokki Doki Love Mail,” where a teenage Matsuura is new to town, reporting on the new stores and sights she just discovered. A lyric like “The city is lonely / so you were telling me / I understood that for the first time” in isolation might fit in “Furusato.” But the surrounding context adds on years more in experience, placing that isolation not as this new feeling she’s just grappling with.

Nakazawa’s misery doesn’t seem so obvious upon first listen from the lightness of the music and the easy-going feel of the melodies. She also carries heartbreak from separation, and the nostalgia doubles in pain reminding her of home as well as a past relationship. “When I go out shopping / I’m always reminded of / the things you like,” she sings, and immediately after, she recounts renting a video as a cheer-up only to be driven by tears. It’s mostly the mundane things that take stock in this song, landing not as a huge blow but a light thud. But it’s also those small, trivial things that end up bringing back memories better left suppressed. 

“I’m so close to becoming Tokyo busu,” goes the chorus. “I stay up all night and keep dreaming with my girl friends.” Translating roughly to Tokyo-ugly, Tokyo busu is the work of classic Tsunku. The made-up word offers critique of city-dwellers from the perspective of an outsider, especially about those who themselves come from elsewhere: from hearing Nakazawa sing this song, city life sounds like a vapid lifestyle and letting the city change you sounds like a sin. It also adds irony in the titular phrase, which translates to “Tokyo beauty,” wearing out the glamor in living in Tokyo.

While “Tokyo Bijin” sounds like a content portrait of city-living at first glance, Nakazawa doesn’t sound entirely enthusiastic. Her sighs sound melancholy brushing against such sunny music as though she herself thinks she should be embracing a happier life more suiting for the tune. The chorus in the end hits the most bittersweet. “Tokyo beauty / Cheers to a girl’s future,” she sings perhaps with slight sarcasm. “I feel like I’m now an adult.” Growing up and growing used to the city don’t sound exactly like an accomplishment from the sound of Nakazawa’s voice and instead just something one has to accept eventually.

[7]

[koinodancesite]

“Megami ~Mousse Na Yasashisa~”

Release date: December 18, 2002

Featured in: Pucchi Best 3; No. 5

Members: Hitomi Yoshizawa, Kaori Iida, Maki Goto, Mari Yaguchi

Morning Musume were the poster girls for a myriad of product tie-ins by 2003. The group began to lend their rising popularity as pop stars to shill tea, cameras, aircon coolers -- you name it. Their work with snack company Glico mainly for Pocky -- those skinny biscuit sticks with flavored dip like chocolate and strawberry -- in particular produced new music by a subunit formed just for the ad promo. As the counterpart to the bubbly Pocky Girls, they put together Hitomi Yoshizawa, Kaori Iida, Maki Goto and Mari Yaguchi for the quartet Venus Mousse to go with the other mousse-dipped line of the same name. 

“Luxury called decoration mousse,” goes a tagline for this line of Pocky. And indeed, the available flavors are more exquisite than the typical chocolate and strawberry -- perhaps the two most visible Pocky choices -- with chocolate cookies dipped into dark chocolate or latte. The introduction of more bitter flavors here suggests a more adult alternative, and the commercial depicts the four idols in a more grown, blacked-out cool to reflect not only the product but the type of consumer base for the cookie.

What reinforces this image the most is the music. Originally recorded exclusively for the tie-in, “Megami ~Mousse Na Yasashisa~” is propped by a blissful R&B sound that sets this grand, adult mood. The dive into then-contemporary R&B also recalls the Morning Musume subunit Tanpopo that also provided an alternative, more grown look into the group’s members. It helps that Tanpopo members Iida and Yaguchi were chosen for this subunit while Goto was already carving out a name for herself with a similar sound for her solo works.

Their grasp of the genre plays important to seamlessly perform their necessary task of introducing the product without it becoming at all like a jingle. Despite the hook explicitly mentioning “soft like mousse,” practically reading the key selling point of the cookie straight out of the copy, “Megami” otherwise proceeds as yet another professional foray into R&B just as they did before like, say, recently with the single “Do It! Now.” They smoothly slip into the genre without giving off much of an impression that the adult personality is a product of commercial reverse-engineering but instead simply a product of its sound and style.

“Megami” eventually made it into Morning Musume’s fifth album, No. 5, along with their Pocky Girls counterpart. Before its inclusion in the album, fans were able to win a limited-edition single CD with the two subunit songs on it if they submitted a code written on the Pocky box and entered it to the campaign site. But all that context as a commercial tie-in doesn’t feel obvious as it exists purely on the track listing of the full-length. Other than the “soft like mousse” lyric reading quirky, “Megami” hardly gives away its origin story, and the overall natural feel speaks to Morning Musume’s grasp of the R&B genre.

[7]

[koinodancesite]

“Give Me Love”

Release date: Oct. 12, 2011

Featured in: 12, Smart

Members: Ai Takahashi, Aika Mitsui, Erina Ikuta, Kanon Suzuki, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Tanaka, Riho Sayashi, Risa Niigaki, Sayumi Michishige

Morning Musume must have known change was on the way by the time they released 12, Smart in 2012. It’s unlikely that they knew just how much, that an entire new era would begin from their next record, 13 Colorful Character, but the departure of Ai Takahashi after a decade with the group had to have signaled an end of a certain time. “Give Me Love,” then, sets a bittersweet atmosphere in retrospect as it opens Takahashi’s last album as a Morning Musume, carrying the same defining sound of the previous Platinum era she helped usher in.

While the lead single “Only You” hinted at the switch into EDM to come, “Give Me Love” indulges in the dramatic string sweeps and synths hits found from the group’s singles during the late ‘00s like “Shoganai Yume Oibito.” Adding on to the melodrama are the pack of back vocals which respond to the main singer singing about her woes, sometimes finishing the sentences of the latter. The call-and-response plays out well live as her group mates follow her around as she pensively strolls around.

Despite the over-the-top flourishes, the monologue unfolding in “Give Me Love” is rather level-headed at least in comparison to how the train of thought in previous releases like “Naichaukamo” can go. The idols second-guess themselves upon the gestures of an almost-too-perfect man: “hey, the future / how will it be? / falling in love / with a person like this / I thought it would be way later,” they confess in a later chorus. The music adds the gravity of the stakes if they potentially mess this up, and their worry intensifies as they restlessly ponder upon behaviors to the point of overkill: “Do you love me? / You keep asking so I become unsure,” they sing. Yet, the lack of overwrought gestures to test out their love makes “Give Me Love” a more reasoned pep talk.

Knowing now of the transformation they will take, slotting “Only You” right after “Give Me Love” in 12, Smart offers a contrast to what differentiates the Platinum from the Colorful era. There are the voices, sure, as well as the tone and production choices, but “Give Me Love” is also more self-indulgent with the focus narrowly put on the individual. The personal is still given shine in later works, but it’s projected a lot more outward hence making it easier to expand to fit and speak for a more general audience. I think of the “dear my lovely you / here’s a yell for you” hook in “Only You” that can be claimed by anybody as if they were words addressed to them whereas “Give Me Love” sympathizes with people with a more specific back history.

“This love / that I dreamed about / I’m scared about / losing it,” sings the just-joined Riho Sayashi with the help of her group to finish her lyrics. Her parts hit poignant watching the live performances with her following Reina Tanaka and a follow-up from Risa Niigaki, who both occupied the senior class at the time. The sound and narrative of “Give Me Love” makes the song emblematic of a generation at its last days, but it also already gave a chance to the young voices that would define what would come after.

[7]

[koinodancesite]

“Narcis Kamatte-chan Kyousoukyoku Dai5ban”

Release date: March 8, 2017

Featured in: 15 Thank You, Too

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Erina Ikuta, Haruka Kudo, Haruna Iikubo,  Haruna Ogata, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Sakura Oda

The very character of Morning Musume as idols often feed into the music and elevates its lyrical content. For a lot of the songs, especially from the Colorful era and on, the group’s work ethic affirms the message of self-progress from how they lead by example. “Narcis Kamatte-chan Kyousoukyoku Dai5ban,” however, is a rare one where the lyrics aggressively go against their altruism. Kamatte-chan describes a person who’s constantly in need of attention, and the redundancy of attaching “narcissistic” in front of it should write home how desperate they sound. Yet the album track succeeds precisely because Morning Musume sings it. 

“I’m not cute/ somehow I don’t feel cute,” Morning Musume begin the song. Right from the start, it’s hard not to question how odd it sounds hearing the verse sung by the idols, who’s shining up on stage or on the other side of the TV screen. Even when they then take a deeper look inward -- “even though I am cute, I get timid inside” -- the track hints at insecurity from a group who carries a reputation to be strong-willed.

The most out-of-character moment from Morning Musume arrives as the chorus comes to a close. “Look at me more,” an idol suddenly says in a deadpan tone as if they want to stop the song and step into the forefront so the audience can give all the undivided attention she seeks. The lyric rings with a bit of self-awareness: the jump from singing into a direct read loosely follows the Hello! Project tradition of mid-song monologues. The calculated precision gives it a creepy iciness, and the deadpan in their voice seems as though they’re held back from openly expressing their more selfish feelings, like self-obsession, vanity and a deep desperation to be wanted.

The production intensifies the chilliness through its needling synths. The pitch of the electronic sounds feel heightened as though you’re listening to it with your anxiety levels a bit more sensitive than usual. The wariness also links to the emotional vulnerability of the idols, who are endlessly observing their looks and performance to become the better version of themselves. Their voices, too, go up a register in the ad libs of the chorus to emphasize some points: aside from the key lyric of “look at me more,” they constantly wonder why in defeat as they play around with their facial expressions while looking at the mirror.

These scenes of Morning Musume nitpicking their appearance strikes more poignant when framed as moments of their personal lives as idols. Attention is the currency of the idol business after all, and their presentation plays important for them to acquire it. They consider any expression other than a smile to be less than perfect. Conversely, their grasp on this relationship as a transaction equally twists the song into a dark pop record that complicates the integrity of genuine emotion. Do they earnestly care for us, the audience, or is it all part of some grand strategy?

This vicious, complex phenomenon is no more apparent than when the song is performed live by Morning Musume. They play out the very experience outlined in “Narcis Kamatte-chan” by presenting themselves as the main performer to focus on but also the object of desire. It gains a new dimension with an actual audience, the very fans who provide them value via attention, there to take in those attempts to fish for compliments. The “look at me more” script hits deep when recited live by the idols, standing as the focal point while their eyes are locked into the crowd.

Morning Musume may sound more self-indulgent than usual but they don’t sound full of themselves in the slightest. The group sang songs about shameless vanity in the past like “Kimagure Princess” and performed a sassy show of worth like “Sukatto My Heart.” But in “Narcis Kamatte-chan,” the idols sound more self-tortured as their singles where they pick apart their obsession with pride. The synths give the self-reflection more edge yet it also teases out the dark undercurrents that the group have done so well to hide.

[9]

[koinodancesite]

Long time, no see!

Howdy! It’s been a while since I’ve been active on this blog, and soon I will be preparing some posts once again because Morning Musume are releasing a new single in a month’s time -- December 16th to be exact. The title of the songs are “Jyunjou Evidence” and “Gyuu Saretai Dakenanoni.” They are now added in the blog’s master list.

I am excited to listen to what the group has in store for us. I am also excited to write about Morning Musume again for this blog. It has been a minute since the blog has been busy, so to build up hype for the new single, and so I can brush up on my writing here, I am launching a series of bonus content called Bonus Tracks where I review non-singles by Morning Musume.

For now, I will publish one Bonus Tracks post per week until the release date of “Jyunjou Evidence.” I don’t know how consistent I will be going after that, but I definitely want to add more posts to the series. If you have any suggestions on what to cover, feel free to let me know via Ask on my main Tumblr. I am accepting all songs that are not singles, including solo releases and shuffle-unit songs, as long as a Morning Musume singer is responsible for it. I’ll see you Wednesday for the first post!

[koinodancesite]

The end of the road...?

At the time of this writing, I completed the post for “Ningen Kankei No Way Way,” ostensibly the last single by Morning Musume to cover for this blog. That post was queued for July 8, and I am writing this from late March, so there is still a possibility that the idol group have released a new double or triple A-side by the time this post goes up. (Edit: it is July now, and no new Morning Musume is planned as of this writing.)

Which means, this ridiculous project is actually not over. Really, it is never over until Morning Musume decide to no longer release music, and I’d rather give up my spare weekends writing new paragraphs about their music than see that happen. So yes, I plan to continue updating this blog to keep up with future singles.

For now, though, I am done. I’ve finally crossed the finish line. I spent almost exactly a year writing about every Morning Musume single, 95 of them in total. It was very fun working on this project. I learned a lot. I also adopted a deep obsession with the group, but I don’t regret it.

I entertained the idea for this blog at least about a year before I actually launched it. I was inspired by fellow writer Cassy Gress from the Singles Jukebox and their blog where they review one Super Junior song a day. I also constantly looked to deep, one-post-at-a-time dives into the charts such as Tom Ewing’s Popular, Jonathan Bogart’s Bilbo’s Laptop, and Iain Mew’s Super Chart Island as models. I wanted to take on a huge, exhaustive project like those, and I figured Morning Musume and their singles discography that stretches 20-plus years would be a good choice.

Morning Musume also ended up being a great subject because of their different eras and their member changes throughout their history. Every once in a while, it felt as though I was writing about a whole new group if not because of the music then definitely because of the new faces. The gradual stylistic changes and shifts in attitude in their music helped me stay captivated. Though I want to take on this same project but for a different J-pop artist, I worry just how long I can stay interested at least compared to how Morning Musume has kept my attention.

The existence of multiple vital eras in their history is what I understood as what makes Morning Musume such an exciting idol group to study. Many artists’ narratives have one peak era when they hit it big or earned critical attention, and their subsequent work is judged based on that work. Someone may tell you Morning Musume also has that critical period in their Golden era (1997-2003) but the perspective varies wildly depending on who you ask. A lot of fans praise the Platinum era (2007-2012) as their second coming. This blog repeatedly brought up the new attitudes defined by the Colorful era (2013-2015). For my money, my favorite and their best is Morning Musume ‘17 -- the iteration that first got me into the group -- from the way they harnessed the strengths of all their past eras while creating a new path.

Those different eras pose a big challenge to properly document Morning Musume in its entirety. Another big inspiration to this blog, One Week One Band is an amazing project to extensively discuss a musical act (and a blog that I’ve also contributed to a few times). But even a week seems too short of a time frame to pack every facet of the idol group. Maybe a week for a particular era (as OWOB has done with an act with a deep history like David Bowie) but their full chronology is too dense to wrap up in just seven days.

Of course, there’s probably a better, less demanding method than writing about every single over a course of a year. But I do have hopes that this provides a good intro to Morning Musume or maybe even J-pop for someone. Selfishly, I also wanted to provide a series of critical writing that I’ve wished to see about the group. I focused on a lot of the lyrics, maybe a bit too much relative to the discussion on the actual music, because Tsunku’s songwriting was a big influence on me wanting to write about them. His distinct approach to narrative and theme, and that singular eye to pop phrases, continues to intrigue me to no end. I wanted to provide my insight on his work as someone who Japanese is their first language. 

At the very least, this was a fun writing exercise. I looked forward to writing about every single. I want to say it made my other writing better. It also took my mind off things. I discovered so many new favorite songs, and like I mentioned in more than a few posts, they kept my spirits high when life became stressful..

Thanks for reading! Some of you who shared the posts and left feedback on them made me happy that I launched this blog. Let’s meet again when Morning Musume drops a new single for us to obsess over, hopefully very soon.

[koinodancesite]

“Love Pedia”

Coupled with “Kokoro & Karada” and “Ningen Kankei No Way Way”

Release date: January 22, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

“Love Pedia” resembles the rowdy sibling to its more adult counterpart, “Ningen Kankei No Way Way,” but they are twins in many different ways. For one, it rides on the same melody, the chorus practically inducing a sharp feeling of deja vu. While the arrangements vary to give each a distinctive character from the other, they work tropes of classic Morning Musume sensibilities. The hooks, too, entertain in a fun, familiar way.

“Love Pedia” is the obnoxious one, built upon growling synths and a restless rhythm. What it lacks in opportunities to rest, the production offers a lot of room to goof around, like the talkbox-like vocal filter applied to the ad libs of the verses. It’s a fine, giddy companion to introduce the new 15th generation, who spring into action striking a fighter pose in the intro of the song’s choreography. Mei Yamazaki’s voice sticks out in particular, oblong and untreated yet full of freshman enthusiasm compared to the polished performances of the seniors.

That youthful naivete informs the lyrics as well. The titular Love-pedia immediately reminds of matters more in a fantasy realm as the idols wish for the know-hows on love. The playful music frames the whole concept as slightly tongue-in-cheek. But it also sounds quaintly hyper-modern reminiscent to the post-Y2K feel of “Koi No Dance Site.” I imagine their Love-pedia as a series of Wiki entries despite the video showing an actual book, and Ameko Kodama slyly nods to the possibilities of the lyrics resonating in a more digital context as well: “An era where we share all the time/ but all the things I want to know are private,” they moan.

More than the concept of this imaginary Love-pedia, their responses to love is colored by pure, first-time innocence. Dealing with their total lack of preparation in the face of love, the idols anxiously flip through the pages in hopes they land on the entry that holds all their answers. The change in script for the final round of the chorus gives way to my favorite moment: “I fell in love/ oh, I did,” they sing, finally accepting the spontaneous turn of events after laying eyes on someone in the subway. They don’t seem bothered by these unknown feelings and instead ready to enjoy the ride.

[6]