27/08/2025

Excerpts from the History of Korean Popular Music [5]

Trot, or by Its Youthful Name: Yuhaengga (1928–1945)




Briefly summarizing what has been covered so far:

A dominant part of the song culture of early 20th-century Joseon consisted of traditional songs, including primarily narrative songs (such as pansori, which is suitable for epic storytelling), or didactic instructional songs closer to literature, as well as the group of japga songs sung by singers of the lower social classes in public spaces, many of which can be traced back to Buddhist or Shamanist origins. Theater songs (manyo) can also be distinguished, which were sung either as part of theatrical performances or during intermissions, and possessed a mostly cheerful, entertaining character, though they were not devoid of a satirical edge. Naturally, there were also religious songs, children's songs, and many others, but alongside all of these, there existed another large and colorful group of songs: the rich realm of lyrical songs. Although folk songs are lyrical songs as well, we are now interested in those new kinds of songs that already appeared as part of the entertainment industry.

The above can also be well-distinguished chronologically, because traditional and didactic songs dominated the early period lasting roughly until the 1920s, whereas lyrical songs came to the fore in the late period starting from the 1930s.

In the previous part, we reviewed the enka that developed in Japan, which is a typical example of lyrical songs. We could see that nothing was created in a pure form, nor did it exist as such later on, as different musical genres and styles existed in continuous interaction with one another.

The exact same is true for Joseon, where the enka introduced by the Japanese soon formed musical exchanges with existing Korean music, and furthermore, all of this was permeated by the influence of newly discovered Western music, primarily jazz music.


The first musical instrument shop (left)
and the Joseon Gramophone Shop in Gyeongseong in the 1930s.
(Public Domain)


In Chapter 3, we could hear Kim Yeong-hwan's (under the pen name Kim Seo-jeong) song titled The Three Beggars / The Three Comrades, which is considered the overture to a new musical era. At first glance, the song might seem like a true enka, but somehow it is not—and more and more similar songs were born.

What are the main differences? The Three Beggars and its newer Korean counterparts are in duple meter, meaning they have a 2/4 or 4/4 pulsation, which differs both from the typically 3/4 rhythm of Japanese enka songs (the waltz rhythm) and from the rubato phrasing originating from kabuki/joruri that characterized contemporary ryūkōka songs. The Korean songs also use minor pentatonic scales, but the la-pentatonic scale appears in them early on, which is accompanied by different harmonic progressions than those in Japanese models, and this results in a different sense of harmony. The songs begin to adapt to Korean textual prosody, meaning that stresses and syllable lengths adjust to the Korean language. The essence of all this is that these new songs did not replace Japanese enka, but rather, Koreans reshaped it in their own image.

Regarding the theme of the songs, the Encyclopedia of Korean Culture writes: "The emotional content of trot lyrics is almost identical to that of melodramatic novels, plays, and films. Trot is characterized by a tendency toward the suppression of desires and resignation, a lack of possibility for resolution or adaptation in conflicts with the world or others, and it dissolves this defeat through self-torture and self-pity. Consequently, trot is often a song of deep sorrow and sadness, frequently depicting unrequited love, pessimism regarding the inability to find happiness, and the suffering of a traveler unable to settle down after leaving home." In the continuation, they write that this mood is somewhat counterbalanced by the love of life and cheerfulness of new folk songs—well, we shall see in the next part if that is indeed the case.

Compared to the above, a slight change occurred in 1940: major pentatonic songs appeared as well, on one hand, for the purpose of weakening the tragic nature of songs during wartime. On the other hand, there was a Japanese influence in this too, because "travel music" became popular around this time, which primarily spoke of adventures experienced during wanderings.


The performance of the Joseon Music Troupe, the exclusive company of Okeh Records.
Okeh Records led the golden age of popular songs in the 1930s and 1940s,
making its artists, including Go Bok-soo, Kim Jeong-gu, Nam In-soo, Lee Nan-young,
and the Jeogori Sisters, the most popular stars of their era.
(Public Domain)


However, this was not a consciously occurring process, but rather played out over an extended period of time, of which The Three Beggars became a easily graspable example. All of this is so true that for a good while, the songs created this way did not even have an independent collective name; they were simply referred to, distinguished from enka, as yuhaengga, which means popular song or hit, or by another name, referring to the characteristic pulsation of the songs, they were called ppongjjak (which is a sort of "oompah-oompah" onomatopoeia). It gained its real name retroactively, when following World War II, these musics, or more precisely their more matured successors, began to be called trot.

The explanation of the name trot:

The foxtrot spread in Japan during the 1920s and 1930s, and the enka developed from its Japanese adaptation. In Korean usage, foxtrot was shortened to trot to express the musical pulsation of the foxtrot, initially only as a designation for songs in duple meter, and then as the name of an entire genre in the 1950s. It is from this situation that those funny examples arise when singers of the pre-war period began to be called trot singers, even though they themselves never encountered this designation and never considered themselves as such.

This direction, however, was only one of those that grew out of the blending of enka and Korean musical characteristics. The other large group of songs reached back rather to the traditional Korean musical world, and fused its characteristics with enka into another type of music, which at this time was called new folk songs, and which will be discussed in the next chapter.

Before we get to know one or two famous performers of the era and a few yuhaengga hits sung by them, I must mention a late consequence that arose from the peculiarities of colonial existence. Much later, as part of historical research, investigations were launched in Korea as well to uncover and list former individuals who collaborated with the occupiers. The Research Institute for Collaborationist Activities was founded in 1991, and in 2008 it published the Directory of Pro-Japanese Persons, which included artists as well. Since many of them were forced to write or perform propaganda songs and military recruitment songs during wartime, the investigations attempted to grade the extent of collaboration by taking into account factors such as activity, repetition, and regularity. Thus, among the individuals below, Lee Nan-young was not included in the list, whereas her husband, Kim Hae-song, her later partner, Nam In-soo, as well as her brother, Lee Bong-ryong, were, which was altered following an appeal.

In connection with this, I found the following interesting fact: 
As the head of Okeh Records, the only Korean record label operating during the times of Japanese rule, Lee Cheol naturally possessed extensive pro-Japanese connections—how else could it have operated? However, upon reviewing the label's activities, the aforementioned research institute concluded that both the company and the staff belonging to it (meaning the contracted authors, musicians, and singers as well) were in a position of subordination to the Japanese. The recording of pro-Japanese songs took place during the wartime period, when this influence became much stronger, and resistance became nearly impossible. The reason for this can also be found in the fact that during the occupation, and for a long time afterward, a military/bureaucratic ranking system was in use, namely 갑·을·병·정. This meant a hierarchy according to Chinese numbering or the letters of the alphabet, by which a rank within a company or institution was expressed, in this manner:

Hanja (한자 / 漢字)-derived rank designation:
  • 갑 (甲) = Category "A" (highest)
  • 을 (乙) = Category "B"
  • 병 (丙) = Category "C"
  • 정 (丁) = Category "D" 
This is an official numbering system of ancient Chinese origin (천간 天干 – "heavenly stems"), which was used in contracts, rankings, military classifications, and even school registers. Since those belonging to Okeh Records did not even reach level B in the musical hierarchy, belonging rather to categories C–D, they were considered insignificant, rankless, and of low prestige. And this was the reason that the investigations ultimately concluded by taking their vulnerability into account.


Lee Nan-young (1916-1965)



Lee Nan-young (Public Domain)


Her real name was Lee Ok-rye, and as a child, she grew up in poor family circumstances and poverty. Upon moving to Jeju, she reportedly even worked as a haenyeo, while her mother became a housekeeper for a Japanese family—and as life would have it, this very family was the operator of Changsimgwan, Jeju's first modern theater. This is how Lee Nan-young began her career there, later coming to be considered one of the "three treasures" of the contemporary music industry, alongside composer Park Si-chun and lyricist Ban Ya-wol (Jin Bang-nam). She officially debuted at Okeh Records in 1933, and countless highly successful songs are tied to her name. She was the sole Korean to compete in a Japanese-organized singing competition, and she later recorded the award-winning song from the first Korean lyric-writing contest. She also possessed an excellent flair for singing blues and jazz. She was a member of several theatrical troupes, and she starred in the first musical film, The Song of Joseon, in 1936. Two years later, a collection of her masterpieces was released. During the war years, however, American-style songs were banned, and record publishing also became difficult. Okeh Records therefore established a touring company that had several sub-units; one of these, the Jeogori Sisters, can even be regarded as the first Korean girl group.

In her private life, Lee Nan-young was not nearly as successful. In 1936, she married composer Kim Hae-song, who was considered a genius of the popular music world, a marriage that produced three daughters and four sons. Following the war, in 1948, Lee attempted suicide, presumably due to her husband's affair. During this period, they toured military camps with the KPK Musical Troupe founded by her husband, offering comfort to them by performing various musicals. Lee performed in these as well, and despite being a woman, she even played the roles of Romeo (Romeo and Juliet) and Don José (Carmen Fantasy). However, the Korean War soon broke out, and her husband, who was unable to escape, was abducted and taken to North Korea. According to uncertain information, the man died while imprisoned in the mid-1950s, while other sources state he lost his life during an airstrike.

Following this, Lee moved with her children to Busan, where she subjected them to rigorous vocal training while taking on performances at American military bases. Ultimately, her two daughters debuted with their cousin in 1953 under the name Kim Sisters, and soon became world-famous. Her three sons founded a trio called Kim Boys in 1961, and following the girls, they too moved to the United States. Living in loneliness, Lee was by then addicted to alcohol and opium, having become habituated to the latter to alleviate chronic stomach cramps that had persisted since her youth.

She fell in love with the renowned singer Nam In-soo, but due to the man's illness, this relationship could not last long; nevertheless, Lee nursed him until the very end. Following Nam's death in 1962, Lee stayed with her children in America for a short time but returned home in 1963. She still had performances, though in dwindling numbers, with the last one in 1965, not long before her death.

Her most famous recording is Tears of Mokpo (목포의 눈물), which is also frequently referred to as the "mother song of trot." Okeh Records and the Dong-A Ilbo jointly announced a lyric-writing contest in 1935 (this was the first of its kind in Joseon), and the theme was to write an anthem dedicated to one of ten pre-designated cities. The award-winning contestant's poem, submitted under a pseudonym, was about Mokpo, so they looked for a singer from there to perform the song, which is how Lee Nan-young received it. The melody of an earlier composition by composer Son Mok-in was paired with the lyrics.




목포의 눈물


사공의 뱃노래 가물거리며
삼학도 파도 깊이 숨어드는데
부두의 새아씨 아롱젖은 옷자락
이별의 눈물이냐 목포의 설움
삼백 년 원한 품은 노적봉 밑에
임 자취 완연하다 애달픈 정조
유달산 바람도 영산강을 안으니
임 그려 우는 마음 목포의 노래
깊은 밤 조각달은 흘러가는데
어찌타 옛 상처가 새로워진가
못 오는 임이면 이 마음도 보낼 것을
항구에 맺은 절개 목포의 사랑 



Tears of Mokpo


While the boatman’s song fades into the distance,
And hides deep within the waves of Samhakdo Island,
The young lady's sleeve at the pier is stained with teardrops.
Are these the tears of parting, or the sorrow of Mokpo?

Beneath the Nojeokbong Peak, which harbors three hundred years of resentment [allusion to the Imjin War and Admiral Yi Sun-sin],
The traces of my beloved are so vivid, in this sorrowful devotion.
As even the wind of Mount Yudal embraces the Yeongsan River,
The heart crying for its beloved is the song of Mokpo.

While the crescent moon of the deep night drifts away,
Why is it that old wounds become fresh again?
If it is a beloved who cannot return, I would send this heart of mine along,
The fidelity pledged at the harbor is the love of Mokpo.



In this recording, Lee Nan-young sings a duet with her husband, Kim Hae-song:





올팡갈팡


가실 길 왜 오셨담 가실 길 왜 오셨담
울리고 가실 길을 어이 오셨담
숫보기 가슴에다 불을 지르고
울리고 가실 길을 어이 오셨담

안가곤 안될 사정 안가곤 안될 사정
어쩌면 고렇게도 빽빽하시담
몸이야 가지마는 마음도 간담
언제나 이 한 몸은 당신것이오

가시면 언제 온담 가시면 언제 온담
울면서 떠나가는 당신은 바보
보내곤 살 수 없는 당신이지만
웃어서 보내주는 나도 못난이

간다고 아주 간담 간다고 아주 간담
가기는 가오마는 정만은 남어
보채는 임자 가슴 달래고 지고
애타는 임자 가슴 달래고 지고



Hesitation (duet)


(Lee Nan-young):
If you are bound to leave, why did you come? If you are bound to leave, why did you come?
To make me cry and then leave, why on earth did you come?
Setting a fire inside an innocent, pure heart,
To make me cry and then leave, why on earth did you come?

(Kim Hae-song):
Circumstances dictate that I must go, circumstances dictate that I must go,
How could you be so incredibly unyielding?
Though my body departs, does my mind depart as well? [meaning: my heart stays with you]
This body of mine is always yours.

(Lee Nan-young):
If you leave, when will you return? If you leave, when will you return?
Leaving while crying, you are a fool!
Though you are someone I cannot live without if I let you go,
Sending you away with a smile, I am a fool as well.

(Kim Hae-song):
If I go, do I go for good? If I go, do I go for good?
Go I certainly will, but my affection remains behind.
If only I could soothe your fretting, aching heart,
If only I could soothe your anxious, aching heart!




Many of Kim Hae-song's compositions can be found on YouTube, for example, on this playlist as well:
김해송


Nam In-soo (1918-1962)



Nam In-soo (Public Domain)


Regarding the colonial era, he was simply referred to as the "Emperor of Lyrical Songs." His real name was Choi Chang-su. He lost his father early on, and with his mother's remarriage, his childhood became quite difficult. As an adult, he severed all ties with his stepfather and his family. His musical career began in 1938, and with his beautiful voice, he naturally became a favorite of the audience. He sang nearly a thousand songs and enjoyed his popularity for two decades. Interestingly, the cover of all his albums was adorned with the exact same photograph, and no one knows why.

His wife was Kim Eun-ha, who had wanted to be an acrobat but gave it up for Nam's sake and lived only for her family, as they had four children. The love between Nam and Lee Nan-young "shook the world," but they did not divorce. Following Nam's death caused by tuberculosis, Kim, who was only 37 years old at the time, moved to the United States together with her children.

Night Sorrow (애수의 소야곡) is Nam In-soo's debut song, which became popular only upon its second release, with altered lyrics. It has as many English titles as there are places written about it; it roughly means Night Sorrow.

The lyrics follow the classic trot theme: it is a perfect example of suppressed desires, loneliness, self-pity, and sorrow drifting back into the past, accompanied by beautiful, poetic imagery (such as the door paper rustling in the wind).



       Channel: Nam In Su - Topic Video: 애수의 소야곡



애수의 소야곡


운다고 옛 사랑이 오리요만은
눈물로 달래보는 구슬픈 이 밤
고요히 창을 열고 별 빛을 보면
그 누가 불러주나 휘파람 소리
차라리 잊으리라 맹세하건만
못생긴 미련인가 생각하는 밤
가슴에 손을 얹고 눈을 감으면
애타는 숨결마저 싸늘하구나
무엇이 사랑이고 청춘이던고
모두 다 흘러가면 덧없건마는
외로이 느끼면서 우는 이 밤은
바람도 문풍지에 애달프구나



Night Sorrow


Though weeping will not bring back the old love,
I try to soothe this sorrowful night with tears.
Quietly opening the window, looking at the starlight,
Who is it that whistles over there, whom does that whistling call?

I swear that I would rather forget,
Yet this is a night of thinking whether it is a foolish, lingering attachment.
Placing my hand upon my chest, if I close my eyes,
Even my anxious breath turns freezing cold.

What was love, and what was youth?
Once it all drifts away, it is so futile,
Yet this night, as I weep in loneliness,
Even the wind cries sorrowfully through the paper weatherstrips of the door.



Nam In-soo's next song, The Fallen Tower of Love (무너진 사랑탑), is a hit with a completely different tone, faster-paced yet deeply dramatic and reproachful. It portrays the disappointment and bitter anger of the lyrical persona (a man), who recalls the romantic and solemn promises of the past while his beloved has unfaithfully abandoned him.


Channel: Nam Insoo - Topic Video: 무너진 사랑탑



무너진 사랑탑


반짝이는 별빛 아래 소곤소곤 소곤대던 그날 밤
천 년을 두고 변치 말자고 댕기 풀어 맹세한 임아
사나이 목숨 걸고 바친 순정 모질게도 밟아 놓고
그대는 지금 어디 단꿈을 꾸고 있나
야속한 임아 무너진 사랑탑아

달이 잠긴 은물결이 살랑살랑 살랑대던 그날 밤
손가락 걸며 이별 말자고 울며불며 맹세한 임아
사나이 벌판 같은 가슴에다 모닥불을 질러 놓고
그대는 지금 어디 행복에 잠겨 있나
야멸찬 임아 깨어진 거문고야

봄바람에 실버들이 하늘하늘 하늘대던 그날 밤
세상 끝까지 같이 가지고 눈을 감고 맹세한 임아
사나이 불을 뿜는 그 순정을 갈기갈기 찢어 놓고
그대는 지금 어디 사랑에 취해 있나
못 믿을 임아 꺾어진 장미화야



The Fallen Tower of Love


That night, when we whispered beneath the twinkling starlight, so softly,
Oh, my beloved, who untied your hair ribbon and swore never to change for a thousand years!
Having cruelly trampled upon the pure devotion a man staked his life to offer,
Where are you now, dreaming sweet dreams?
Oh, heartless beloved, oh, fallen tower of love!

That night, when the silver waves submerged in moonlight rippled, so gently,
Oh, my beloved, who interlocked fingers and swore through tears and cries never to part!
Having set a bonfire ablaze within a man's wilderness-wide chest,
Where are you now, immersed in happiness?
Oh, merciless beloved, oh, broken geomungo!

That night, when the weeping willows swayed in the spring breeze, so gracefully,
Oh, my beloved, who closed your eyes and swore to go together to the ends of the earth!
Having torn into shreds that fire-breathing pure devotion of a man,
Where are you now, intoxicated with love?
Oh, untrustworthy beloved, oh, broken rose!



Go Bok-soo (1911-1972)


He was born in Ulsan into a family that operated a noodle factory. He had prepared to be a singer since childhood and debuted after achieving third place in Columbia's singing competition. Okeh Records released his songs, and he was an active member of its performers' troupe as well. In 1940, he transferred to Victor Records. He is mentioned among the most popular soloists of the 1930s, but by the 1940s, newer favorites had already appeared, and the emphasis of Go's activity shifted rather to stage performances. During the Korean War, he fell into North Korean captivity but managed to escape. He retired in 1957, after which he pursued business activities (film, book publishing) that did not prove successful enough. The founding of the Dongwha Academy of Arts in 1959 is also tied to his name, which was Korea's first vocal academy and produced several later great singers (Lee Mi-ja, Ahn Jeong-ae). The singer Hwang Geum-sim was his wife, and several of their six children chose a musical career.



Go Bok-soo (Public Domain)



The singer's greatest hit was the song titled Unrequited Love (짝사랑), which was released in 1936. This massive hit presents the pain of bygone youth and unfulfilled love in parallel with the melancholic images of the autumn landscape. The first line of the lyrics is practically a cultural milestone in Korea, as a decades-long debate surrounded the meaning of the word euaksae (으악새): many believed it to be a bird species (such as the grey heron) due to its onomatopoeic name, but research shows it actually refers to the Eulalia grass (a type of reed) rustling and whispering in the wind, which is a characteristic symbol of the Korean autumn.






짝사랑


아~ 으악새 슬피 우니 가을인가요
지나친 그 세월이 나를 울립니다
여울에 아롱 젖은 이즈러진 조각달
강물도 출렁 출렁 목이 멥니다

아~ 뜸북새 슬피 우니 가을인가요
잃어진 그 사랑이 나를 울립니다
들녘에 떨고 섰는 임자없는 들국화
바람도 살랑 살랑 멤을 돕니다

아~ 단풍이 흩날리오니 가을인가요
무너진 젊은 날이 나를 울립니다
궁성을 헤메이는 서리맞은 짝사랑
안개도 후유 후유 한숨 집니다 



Unrequited Love


Ah, the Eulalia grass rustles sorrowfully, is it autumn already?
The bygone years move me to tears.
The waning crescent moon, rippling upon the shoal, is stained with reflections,
Even the river water surges, its throat choked with emotion.

Ah, the watercock cries sorrowfully, is it autumn already?
That lost love moves me to tears.
Around the ownerless wild chrysanthemum standing trembling in the field,
The wind also spins, gently and softly.

Ah, the maple leaves are scattering, is it autumn already?
My ruined days of youth move me to tears.
At the sight of this frost-bitten unrequited love wandering through the palace grounds,
Even the mist heaves a heavy, deep sigh.



Baek Nyeon-seol (1914-1980)


Following his agricultural and bookkeeping studies, he redirected his career path toward singing. In his heyday, his popularity reportedly rivaled that of Nam In-soo. Following World War II, he no longer had similar successes, and he shifted his focus rather to charitable activities, such as running an orphanage. In 1953, he founded Seorabeol Records, and then bid farewell to his singing career in 1963.



Baek Nyeon-seol (Public Domain)



Inn Without a House Number (번지없는 주막) was released in 1940, and its composer was Lee Jae-ho. Reportedly, a different text is paired with each of its newer editions.

The song evokes the typical "vagabond sorrow" of the colonial era: it tells the story of a painful farewell and the agony of separation on a stormy night in a nameless inn in the middle of nowhere. It features beautiful cultural images of the era, such as the soft light of the ajukkari (castor-oil) lamp.



Channel: 백년설 - Topic Video: A Bar with No Address (번지없는 주막)



무너진 사랑탑


문패도 번지수도 없는 주막에
궂은비 내리는 그밤이 애절구려
능수버들 재질하는 창살에 기대어
어느 날짜 오시겠소 울던 사람아

아주까리 초롱밑에 마주앉아서
따르는 이별주는 꿀같은 정이였소
귀밑머리 쓰다듬어 맹세를 빌어도
못믿겠소 못믿겠소 울던 사람아

깨무는 입살에는 피가 터졌소
풍지를 악물며 밤비도 우는 구려
흘러가는 타관길이 여기만 아닌데
번지없는 그 술집을 왜 못잊으냐 



Inn Without a House Number


In an inn that has neither a nameplate nor a house number,
How sorrowful is that night when the dismal rain falls.
Leaning against the window lattices lashed by the weeping willow,
"On what day will you return?" – oh, you weeping beloved!

Sitting face-to-face beneath the castor-oil lamp,
The parting drink we poured was an affection sweet as honey.
Even as we pledged our vows, stroking the hair-locks by our ears,
"I cannot believe you, I cannot believe you!" – oh, you weeping beloved!

Blood burst from the bitten lips,
As the night rain also weeps, biting hard upon the weatherstrips of the door.
Though the drifting path through foreign lands does not lead only through here,
Why is it that I cannot forget that tavern without a house number?



The appearance of major pentatonic songs in 1940 is associated with Baek Nyeon-seol, with Sorrow of a Vagabond (나그네 설움). This epoch-making 1940 masterpiece turns once again to the vagabond theme. Through the metaphor of the wandering traveler, the text condenses the homelessness of the Korean people living under colonial oppression and the deep, collective pain (han) of those forced to leave their homeland.

The recording is from a 1968 television show, to which the surviving great singers of the pre-World War II era were invited.



Channel: 스타삼육오 Video: 백년설-나그네 설움



나그네 설움

오늘도 걷는다마는
정처 없는 이 발길
지나 온 자죽마다 눈물 고였다
선창 가 고동 소리 옛 님이 그리워도
나그네 흐를 길은 한이 없어라
타관 땅 발벗어 돈지
십 년 넘어 반평생
사나이 가슴속엔 한이 서린다
황혼이 찾어들면 고향도 그리워져
눈물로 꿈을 불러 찾어도 보네
낯익은 거리다마는 이국보다 차워라
가야 할 지평선엔 태양도 없어
새벽 별 찬 서리가 뼈 골에 스미는데
어데로 흘러가랴 흘러갈 소냐 


Sorrow of a Vagabond

Though I walk again today,
These footsteps have no destination,
Tears have pooled in every single trace I left behind.
Even if the ship’s horn at the pier makes me miss my old beloved,
There is no end to the drifting path of a vagabond.

Wandering barefoot in foreign lands,
For over ten years, half a lifetime now,
A deep, lingering resentment settles in a man’s heart.
When twilight approaches, I long for my hometown,
Calling upon my home through tears, seeking it even in my dreams.

Though it is a familiar street, it is colder than a foreign land,
There is not even a sun on the horizon where I must go.
While the freezing frost of the morning star permeates to the bone,
Where shall I drift, where on earth am I to drift?




Kim Jeong-gu (1916-1998)



Kim Jeong-gu (Public Domain)


He came from a Protestant family in the territory of North Korea, and reportedly preserved his dialect from there throughout his life. Described as a cheerful, humorous personality, despite his sentimental hit song, he mostly sang manyos radiating a merry, folk-like atmosphere. Following the liberation, he frequently traveled to perform for Korean populations living in various countries, thus singing many times in the USA as well. His wish to revisit North Korea was also fulfilled, reaching it in 1985, and he was even able to sing there.

Kim possessed an exceptionally high vocal timbre, which is why most of his songs had to be transposed lower when performed by other male singers.

The record containing his greatest hit, the song titled Tearful Duman River, was released in 1938, but interestingly, the song initially did not achieve success. However, the Japanese Governor-General of Korea banned it in 1943, claiming that it promoted national consciousness. A film was made under the same title in 1963, and then the following year, a North Korean-themed radio broadcast finally brought the song its massive success.

Two anecdotes also circulate in connection with the song. One occurred in the 1950s involving the song's composer, Lee Si-woo (real name Lee Man-du). Working as a singer and composer in the 1930s, Lee remained completely unknown, and then in 1948, he participated in an anti-communist military operation, after which he held several high-ranking law enforcement and state positions. Sports Seoul reported that in the 1950s, following a raid held at an entertainment venue, the singer performing there was brought in, and it caught Lee's attention that the singer was performing his very hit. He even asked him if he knew the composer of the song, but the singer only remembered the original performer of the song. Lee reportedly burst out: "The author of the song is Lee Si-woo! Lee Si-woo! It was me!" Lee returned to the music industry in 1962 and had several more successful songs, but lost his life in a motorcycle accident in 1975.

The other story, of much less reliable authenticity, is also connected to the composer, who reportedly stayed by the Duman River during one of his tours. At the inn, he heard bitter crying at night, and learned that the crying woman's husband, Mun Chang-hak—who became a independence fighter and had not returned for years—had been executed a few days prior. Since the day of the man's death coincided with his birthday, his wife commemorated both, and then committed suicide by throwing herself into the river. Reportedly, Lee was inspired by this story to write Tearful Duman River. Mun was a real person and a proven independence fighter, but the date of his execution (1923) is not entirely consistent with this story of the song's origin (1935).

In the original version of the song, the trot ppongjjak pulsation is clear, but it is still interesting how Song So-hee managed to unfold a version from it in a 2018 broadcast of Immortal Songs 2 that almost evoked the feeling of a folk song. Perhaps this also proves how easily permeable genre boundaries were in the initial period.



Channel: 스타삼육오 Video: 김정구- 눈물젖은 두만강






눈물 젖은 두만강


두만강 푸른 물에 노젓는 뱃사공
흘러간 그 옛날에 내 님을 싣고
떠나든 그 배는 어데로 갔소
그리운 내 님이여 그리운 내 님이여
언제나 오려나

강물도 달밤이면 목메여 우는데
님 잃은 이 사람도 한숨을 지니
추억에 목메인 애달픈 하소
그리운 내 님이여 그리운 내 님이여
언제나 오려나

님가신 강 언덕에 단풍이 물들고
눈물진 두만강에 밤새가 울면
떠나간 그님이 보고 싶구나
그리운 내 님이여 그리운 내 님이여
언제나 오려나



Tearful Duman River


Boatman rowing in the blue waters of the Duman River
Carrying my beloved in that bygone past
Where did that departing boat go
My longed-for beloved, my longed-for beloved
When will you ever come

Even the river water weeps with a choked throat on a moonlit night
As this person who lost their beloved also sighs
A sorrowful plea choked with memories
My longed-for beloved, my longed-for beloved
When will you ever come

The maple leaves are tinged on the riverbank where my beloved went
When the night bird cries by the tearful Duman River
I miss that departed beloved of mine
My longed-for beloved, my longed-for beloved
When will you ever come


→ On to Part 6



Sources:














Copyright Disclaimer: The archival images and documents featured in this article are either in the Public Domain or used under Fair Use guidelines for educational and historical purposes. The videos embedded and subtitled within this post are utilized in accordance with YouTube's terms of service (Content ID system) and with the consent of the respective copyright owners. This blog claims no ownership over the musical or visual works; all rights belong to their respective authors and publishers.


.  .  .  


This article was originally written in Hungarian for Ricemegatron Expert Film Blog and subsequently translated into English for Ricemegatron Expert: Korean Screen Insights. The English version was created with the assistance of Gemini AI, focusing on preserving the original tone, structure, and critical style of the author.

























24/08/2025

Excerpts from the History of Korean Popular Music [4]

The Connection with Japanese Enka




Kawakami Otojiro during a performance (Public Domain)



To better understand the landscape, let us briefly review the technical and organizational infrastructure of the entertainment industry. Since the colonization of Joseon coincided with the emergence of mass media, local developments began with a slight delay; initially, everything was tethered to Japan. Major Japanese record labels were established during this time, including Nippon Columbia (1910) and the Victor Talking Machine Company of Japan (1927). The latter eventually became known as the Japan Victor Company (JVC), a name that resonates globally today.

However, it could not be sustained for long that no developments would be launched in the occupied territories, so first, labels established branch offices, and in 1933, the first Korean-operated label, Okeh Records, was founded (backed by the similarly named American-based company). This period also saw the birth of the first major private newspapers: Dong-A Ilbo and Chosun Ilbo both began operations in 1920. The Japanese government also founded the first radio station, Gyeongseong Radio, with the call sign JODK (which, after liberation, became HLKA and eventually KBS Radio 1).

Local film production also took flight. Following a Japanese propaganda film in 1923, the first Korean-produced film was born, followed by a steady stream of works, including the famous Arirang in 1926. By the 1930s, popular culture had become a lifestyle. This gave rise to the terms "Modern Boy" and "Modern Girl"—used exactly like that, as English loanwords. It is no coincidence that the 2008 film set in this era is titled Modern Boy.

The end of World War II and the subsequent end of Japanese rule represents such a significant caesura in Korean history that it must be applied to popular music as well. Therefore, the following genre overview covers the years between 1910 and 1945; where necessary, the post-liberation period will be discussed in a separate section.

Based on this timeline, Koreans primarily consumed Japanese offerings until the early 1920s. Regardless of the genre, everything likely felt incredibly "modern," so the initial simple adoption of these styles is hardly surprising. Since Japanese enka music left the strongest mark on this era, we must first address enka-type music and its evolution. While I am only speculating, I suspect that Japanese music was not entirely comfortable for Koreans in several respects. One could likely sense its "foreign flavor," and it could not have been a source of great joy that Koreans were singing of their happiness and sorrows—mostly the latter—through the music of their occupiers. Yet, enka was exceptionally well-suited for expressing such sorrow. Paradoxically, this very feeling may have served as the inspiration for early Korean musical search for their own voice.

I may not be alone in the fact that the term enka does not evoke too many associations in me, so the first question I somehow have to answer is: what exactly is enka?

As I was trying to get acquainted with it, I found things that were far more interesting than I had expected.

The history of enka can be divided into three major periods:
  1. The origins of enka (1870–1910)
  2. The transition phase (approx. 1910–1930)
  3. Modern enka (1945–Present)

While the earliest period could technically be omitted as it has little direct bearing on our main subject, it would be a shame not to mention it.

Who would have thought that the birth of a musical genre was tied to politics? During the Meiji Era (1868–1912), the first political parties of the Freedom and People's Rights Movement were formed. However, their leaders were forbidden from voicing opposition views in public. In an ingenious move, activists began spreading their messages as street singers. They even sold songbooks for a small fee, using the proceeds to finance the movement. The word "enka" (演歌) is a shortened form of a term meaning "speech song" (enzetsu no uta).

Thanks to the reconstruction and performances of musicologist, ethnomusicologist, and multi-instrumentalist Tsuchitori Toshiyuki (retaining the Japanese name order: last name+first name), we can listen to two fascinating songs from this early era. Tsuchitori, now in his seventies, has an incredibly exciting career as a researcher, performer (having played with the likes of Derek Bailey and Milford Graves), and composer (writing music for Peter Brook’s plays).

First, let us listen to the highly impactful "Dynamite Song" (Dainamaito bushi), which is considered the oldest enka song:


Dynamite Song performed by Tsuchitori Toshiyuki (Audio via YouTube)



ダイナマイト節(民権弁士版)


一、
民権論者(みんけんろんしゃ)の 涙(なみだ)の雨(あめ)で
磨(みが)き上(あ)げたる 大和胆(やまとぎも)
国利民福(こくりみんぷく)増進(ぞうしん)して 
民力休養(みんりょくきゅうよう)せ
もしも成(な)らなきゃ ダイナマイトドン!

二、
治外法権(ちがいほうけん) 撤去(てっきょ)の夢(ゆめ)を
見るもうれしい ポルトガル
国利民福増進して 民力休養せ
もしも成らなきゃ ダイナマイトドン!

三、
テコでも動(うご)かぬ 私(わたし)の操(みさお)
いつしか立てずに 置(お)くべきか
国利民福増進して 民力休養せ
もしも成らなきゃ ダイナマイトドン!

四、
四千余万(よんせんよまん)の 同胞(そなた)のためにゃ
赤い囚衣(しきせ)も 苦(く)にゃならぬ
国利民福増進して 民力休養せ
もしも成らなきゃ ダイナマイトドン!

五、
悔(くや)むまいぞや 苦(く)は楽(らく)の種(たね)
やがて自由(じゆう)の花(はな)が咲(さ)く
国利民福増進して 民力休養せ
もしも成らなきゃ ダイナマイトドン!


Dynamite Song

1.
With the rain of tears of the civil rights warriors,
I have polished bright my Japanese heart (courage).
May the national interest and the people's welfare prosper,
may the people's strength find rest (be renewed).
If it still should not succeed... then let comes the dynamite, boom!

2.
What a joy it is, if we can dream
Of the abolition of extraterritorial rights, oh Portugal!
May the national interest and the people's welfare prosper,
may the people's strength find rest (be renewed).
If it still should not succeed... then let comes the dynamite, boom!

3.
My helm (control) is immovable, no matter who exerts themselves,
Is it ever allowed to give it up, to surrender?
May the national interest and the people's welfare prosper,
may the people's strength find rest (be renewed).
If it still should not succeed... then let comes the dynamite, boom!

4.
For my forty-odd million compatriots,
I do not even feel the red prison uniform to be a burden.
May the national interest and the people's welfare prosper,
may the people's strength find rest (be renewed).
If it still should not succeed... then let comes the dynamite, boom!

5.
I shall not regret it! Suffering is the seed of happiness,
And in the end, the flower of freedom will blossom.
May the national interest and the people's welfare prosper,
may the people's strength find rest (be renewed).
If it still should not succeed... then let comes the dynamite, boom!



Kawakami Otojiro (1864-1911)



Kawakami Otojiro and his wife, Sada Yakko (Public Domain)


Another pivotal song is the "Oppekepe Song", written, composed, and performed by Kawakami Otojiro in 1888. Kawakami was a true renegade; his bold and outspoken lyrics frequently landed him in trouble. A comedian and actor, he founded several "New Wave" theater troupes that toured major cities across Europe and the USA. Together with his wife, Sada Yacco—a former geisha and the only prominent actress of her time—he studied "every aspect of Western theater" to innovate Japanese performing arts.

Contemporary press described Kawakami’s performance as follows [Wikipedia]:

At the end of his troupe's play "The true story of our Itagaki's disaster" (based on a failed 1882 assassination of the aforementioned Itagaki) "a lone figure wearing a jaunty white headband swaggered out and with a flourish knelt in macho samurai-style, his knees spread wide apart, in front of a gold leaf screen...He was wearing a red samurai surcoat with exaggerated pointed shoulders above a plaid men's kimono....Flourishing a black fan emblazoned with a red rising sun...while a rhythmic shamisen strummed, he spat out the words in a husky rapid-fire patter, improvising verses as he went along. He sneered at the government, the rich, and the kind of people who dressed in Western clothes, aped Western ways, and spent all their money on geisha....The catchy chorus--'Oppekepe'-imitated the sound of a bugle or a trumpet.


Oppekepe Song performed by Tsuchitori Toshiyuki   (Audio via YouTube)


Oppekepe Song

オッペケペー節 


Verse 1 (The Call)

権利 幸福嫌いな人に
自由湯をば飲ましたい
オッペケペー オッペケペ
オッペケペッポーペッポッポー

To those people who dislike rights and happiness,
I would like to make them drink a dose of "liberty soup" [1].
Oppekepe Oppekepe Oppekepeppo Peppoppo [2]

[1] Liberty soup" (jiyū-yu) is a brilliant pun. Yu means hot water/bath, but was also used for medicinal decoctions. Kawakami implies that conservative people who fear political freedom need to be forcefully fed the idea of liberty as a bitter medicine to "wake up.

[2] Oppekepe is a nonsense, onomatopoeic refrain that mockingly imitated the bugles and horns of Western-style military brass bands of the era.

Verse 2: Superficial Westernization

かたい裃 角取れて
マンテルズボンに人力車
粋な束髪 ボンネット
貴女に紳士の出で立ちで
上辺の飾りはよけれども
政治の思想が欠乏だ
天地の真理がわからない
心に自由の種をまけ
オッペケペー
オッペケペッポーペッポッポー

Discarding the stiff, angular samurai dress (kamishimo) [3],
They strut in frock coats and trousers on rickshaws.
With fashionable hair buns [4] and bonnet hats,
Ladies and gentlemen parade in Western attire.
Though the surface decorations are fine,
They are completely devoid of political thought.
They do not understand the truth of heaven and earth,
They should sow the seeds of liberty in their hearts!
Oppekepe Oppekepeppo Peppoppo

[3] The kamishimo was the stiff, wing-shouldered formal attire of the samurai. Kawakami criticizes that while people quickly replaced feudal clothing with Western suits, their mindset remained unchanged.

[4] Sokuhatsu (束髪) was a new type of Western-style women's hairstyle adopted during the Meiji period to replace the heavy, traditional Japanese chignons.


Verse 3: Living Luxuriously on Debt

亭主の職業は知らないが
おつむは当世の束髪で
言葉は開化の漢語にて
晦日の断り洋犬抱いて
不似合いだ およしなさい
何にも知らずに知った顔
むやみに西洋を鼻にかけ
日本酒なんぞは飲まれない
ビールにブランデー ベルモット
腹にも慣れない洋食を
やたらに食うのも負け惜しみ
内緒でそーっと反吐ついて
真面目な顔してコーヒー飲む
おかしいね
おかしいね
オッペケペッポーペッポッポー

No one knows what her husband actually does for a living,
But her hair is styled in the trendiest bun [4].
Her speech is filled with Enlightenment-era buzzwords (kango) [5],
And while turning away creditors for end-of-the-month debts [6], she cradles a Western dog in her lap.
It is ridiculous, stop it!
She knows nothing, yet puts on an all-knowing face.
She needlessly acts snobbish about the West:
She refuses to drink Japanese sake,
Insisting only on beer, brandy, and vermouth!
Western food, which her stomach is not even used to,
She mindlessly stuffs into herself out of sheer pride,
Then secretly, stealthily vomits it all out,
And sips coffee with a serious face.
Comical, isn't it? Comical, isn't it?
Oppekepeppo Peppoppo

[5] Kango (漢語) refers to Sino-Japanese vocabulary. During the Meiji period, Western scientific, political, and philosophical terms (e.g., "republic," "liberty") were translated using these new neologisms. Superficial people threw these heavy words around to sound intellectual.

[6] Misoka no kotowari (晦日の断り) is the most critical period detail here. In Meiji Japan, bills and debts were collected on the last day of the month (misoka). The woman acts like a rich, Westernized lady on the outside, but is deep in debt, turning away collectors because she has no money.


Verse 4: The Corrupt Elite and the Rice Crisis

米価騰貴の今日に
細民困窮顧みず
目深にかぶった高帽子
金の指輪に金時計
権門貴顕に膝を曲げ
芸者たいこに金を撒き
内には米を倉に積み
同胞兄弟見殺しに
いくら慈悲なき欲心も
あまり非道な薄情な
ただし冥土のお土産か
地獄で閻魔に面会し
賄賂使うて極楽へ
行けるかえ
行けないよ
オッペケペー
オッペケペッポーペッポッポー

In these days when the price of rice is skyrocketing [7],
Completely unconcerned with the destitution of the poor,
He wears a top hat pulled low over his eyes,
Flaunting gold rings and a gold watch.
He bows and scrapes before the powerful and noble,
Yet scatters money blindly on geishas and taiko-drummers (flatterers) [8].
At home, he hoards rice in his granary,
Leaving his own compatriots and brothers to die of starvation.
No matter how merciless greed can be,
This is far too cruel and heartless!
Is this supposed to be his souvenir for the afterlife?
When he meets Enma (the Judge of Hell) [9] in the underworld,
Can he use bribes to get into Paradise?
Can he go? No, he cannot!
Oppekepe Oppekepeppo Peppoppo

[7] The skyrocketing price of rice (beika tōki) was a real historical crisis in late 1880s Japan, leading to severe social unrest and food riots. The song directly attacks wealthy speculators and politicians.

[8] In the phrase geisha taiko, taiko refers to male entertainers/jesters (taikomochi) who accompanied geishas and used flattery to swindle money out of rich politicians and businessmen in the pleasure quarters.

[9] Enma (閻魔) is the ruler and supreme judge of Hell in Buddhist mythology, who weighs the sins of the dead. Kawakami mockingly asks if a government official who succeeded through corruption on earth can bribe the judge of the underworld as well.


Verse 5: Theater-Mad Mistresses

お妾嬢さん 権妻に
芝居を見せるは不開化だ
勧善懲悪わからない
色気のところに目をむいて
大事の夫を袖にして
浮気をすること必定だ
お為にならない およしなさい
国会開けた暁に
役者にのろけちゃいられない
日本大事を守りなさい
眉毛の無いのがお好きなら
狸と添い寝をするがよい
オッペケペ
オッペケペッポーペッポッポー

For mistresses and second wives [10]
To frequent the theater (and dote on actors)—that is not true civilization!
They do not understand the moral lesson of rewarding good and punishing evil,
They only fixate their eyes on the suggestive, amorous scenes.
Meanwhile, they neglect (turn their backs on) their important husbands,
And it is certain that they are bound to commit infidelity.
This will do no good, stop it!
Now that the dawn of the National Diet's opening has arrived [11],
We cannot afford to flirt and gush over actors!
We must protect the grand cause of Japan!
If you love eyebrow-less men [12] so much,
Go and sleep with a raccoon dog (tanuki) instead!
Oppekepe Oppekepeppo Peppoppo

[10] Omekake and gonzai refer to the mistresses and second wives maintained by wealthy officials. Kawakami criticizes them because sitting in expensive theater boxes to show off and dote on actors was seen by political critics as a symbol of Meiji-era moral decay.

[11] In 1890, the first Imperial Diet of Japan opened. This was a massive historical milestone; the song argues that people should focus on the nation's destiny instead of frivolous entertainment.

[12] Kabuki and contemporary theater actors shaved off their eyebrows and wore heavy white makeup. Kawakami considers this look grotesque, mockingly comparing them to a tanuki (Japanese raccoon dog).


Verse 6: The Slang of Street Prostitution

娘の肩掛け立派だが
とっさんケットを腰に巻き
どちらもお客を乗せたがる
娘の転ぶを見習うて
とっさん転んじゃいけないよ
帰り車は駆け引きだ
本当にかえしちゃたまらない
おや危ないよ
オッペケペ
オッペケペッポーペッポッポー

The young girl's shawl is splendid,
And the old man's blanket [13] is wrapped around his waist,
But in truth, both of them are eager to catch a customer!
Learning from how the young girl "falls" (becomes a streetwalker) [14],
Don't you go and fall (overturn your cart), old man!
Bargaining with a rickshaw on its return trip is just a tactic,
But if you actually get busted by the police [15], it's truly unbearable!
Oh, watch out, it's dangerous!
Oppekepe Oppekepeppo Peppoppo

[13] Ketto is Meiji-era slang derived from the English word "blanket." This verse exposes illegal, clandestine street prostitution in Tokyo. Streetwalkers wearing fine shawls and old rickshaw drivers colluded, using the rickshaw's blanket to hide the girl and customer from the authorities.

[14] The word korobu (転ぶ - to fall/to overturn) is a brilliant double-entendre. For the driver, it means overturning his cart; for the girl, it was contemporary slang for falling morally (becoming a prostitute).

[15] The lines about bargaining and the return trip refer to the cat-and-mouse game unlicensed drivers and streetwalkers played with the police. If caught and "returned" (arrested) by the police, it meant the end of their livelihood.


Verse 7: Transit Chaos in Tokyo

東京市中は賑やかだ
八人乗りなら乗合で
十六人なら乗込で
混んでもかまなきゃ立っといで
一区二銭は安いわねえ
めっぽうかいに安いわね
車がすれたら降りとくれ
皆さん手を貸しこいどくれ
オッペケペー
オッペケペッポーペッポッポー

The center of Tokyo is bustling and noisy!
An eight-seater is a regular omnibus (noriai) [16],
But when sixteen people pack inside, it's a true squeeze (norikomi).
If you don't mind the crowd, just stand up and come along!
Two sen per zone—isn't that cheap?
Exceedingly, incredibly cheap!
But if the carriages scrape against each other (get stuck), please get off,
And everyone, lend a hand and help push!
Oppekepe Oppekepeppo Peppoppo

[16] This verse mocks Tokyo's sudden, chaotic transit modernization (horse-drawn streetcars and omnibuses). The fares were extremely cheap (2 sen), but the carriages were so overloaded and flimsy that passengers often had to get off to push the vehicle out of the mud.


Verse 8: The Divine Country Manifesto

洋語習うて開化ぶり
パン食うばかりが改良じゃない
皇国権利を拡張し
国威を張るのが急務だよ
智識と智識の比べ合い
キョロキョロしてはいられない
究理と発明の先駆けで
異国に劣らずやっつけろ
神国名義だ 日本ポー

Learning Western words just to act enlightened,
Or merely eating bread—that is not true reform!
To extend the rights of the Empire,
And to assert our national prestige: that is our urgent duty!
This is a competition of intellect against intellect,
We cannot afford to just blink and look around blankly!
By pioneering scientific truth and inventions,
Let us not fall behind foreign nations, let us defeat them!
In the name of the Divine Country—Nipponpō (Japan)! [17]

[17] The conclusion perfectly captures the nationalist, defiant mood of the Meiji period. Kawakami argues that true modernization is not about mimicking Western fashion and food (bread), but about defeating the West through science and technology to protect Japan's sovereignty as a "Divine Country" (Shinkoku). Nipponpō is a brilliant patriotic combination of "Nippon" (Japan) and the blare of the brass band's horn ().

It is easy to agree with those who, hearing the rhythmic delivery and outspoken lyrics, label this song the "world’s first rap." However, by the second half of the Meiji Era, this sharp-tongued street politics was no longer tolerated. Singers had to find new themes: intimate feelings, love, longing, sorrow, loneliness, nostalgia, and landscapes.

The traditionally plucked shamisen was replaced first by the violin, and later by the guitar. The meaning of enka gradually shifted toward "folk-style performance song." This transitional era was a musical melting pot. As Western entertainment music flooded Japan—alongside traditional local genres and Western classical music—operettas, jazz, blues, tango, and more appeared. The popular music that grew out of this fusion was called ryūkōka. Enka was also searching for its place, influenced by both folk music and Western musical impacts, and in terms of its lyrics, interestingly, it can even be related to classical Japanese poetry, waka—if not due to the intensity of its linguistic concentration and symbolism, then in respect of the identical emotional resonances.

These pieces of music did not follow the Western major-minor tonal system, but rather the Japanese yo-in scales, or the aligned versions of the two systems to each other. The Japanese scales were pentatonic scales, among which the use of the in (similarly to the major) resulted in music with a happier tone, while the yo (similarly to the minor) resulted in music with a darker, more resigned mood. Enka songs used the yona-nuki major (pentatonic major) or yona-nuki minor (pentatonic minor) pentatonic scales, and were particularly drawn to the latter.



Yona-nuki minor scale (Video via YouTube)


Enka, during this transitional period, did not really find its place; it was marginalized relatively quickly by the elemental impact of ryūkōka. The crystallization of the genre would occur only in the post-war period, when it fulfilled its powerful genre characteristics: the ballad-like tone of love and nostalgia, images of resignation (alcohol, harbor, evening, rain, etc.), as well as the overflowing, emotional, vibrato performance style associated with them.

In the transitional era important from the perspective of our writing, however, these stylistic features were still much more restrained, and not truly refined either. The classification also fluctuates between enka and ryūkōka. To form a general picture of the music originating from Japan, let us listen to a few examples.

The first recording is a 1901 composition by Taki Rentarō, lyrics by Doi Bansui, "The Moon over the Ruined Castle" (荒城の月), which is usually considered a precursor to modern enka. The notes of the yona-nuki minor melody evoke a sorrowful, melancholic mood. Performer: Fujiyama Ichiro and the Columbia Female Chorus.



"The Moon over the Ruined Castle" performed by Fujiyama Ichiro (Audio via YouTube)



荒城の月

春高楼の 花の宴
めぐる盃 かげさして
千代の松が枝 わけ出でし
むかしの光 いまいずこ

秋陣営の 霜の色
鳴き行く雁の 数見せて
植うるつるぎに 照りそいし
むかしの光 いまいずこ


The Moon over the Ruined Castle

Spring at the lofty palace, the banquet of blossoms,
The wine cups pass around, reflecting the moonlight.
Forcing its way through the branches of the thousand-year pine,
Where is that light of olden days now?

Autumn at the military camp, the colour of the frost,
Revealing the number of wild geese crying as they pass.
Shining down upon the swords planted in the ground,
Where is that light of olden days now?



"Katyusha's Song," released in 1914, is an example of yona-nuki major songs, a composition by Nakayama Shinpei, lyrics by Shimamura Hōgetsu and Sōma Gyofū. Originally, it was an insert song for a theater adaptation made from Tolstoy's novel Resurrection, from where it independentized into a hit. Although I wrote that major melodies are generally happier, this one is precisely not, since it portrays the protagonist's lost innocence, her tender feelings toward the man, and her struggle with fate, thus being simultaneously sad and elevated. The song was released in Joseon as early as 1916 with Korean lyrics, making it also an example of those songs that we did not previously discuss as part of domestic musical development, since they contained no value added by Koreans: they became hits by retaining the foreign melody and translating the original lyrics without changes. 



"Katyusha's Song" performed by Matsui Sumako (Video via YouTube)



カチューシャの唄 / 復活唱歌

カチューシャかわいや わかれのつらさ
せめて淡雪とけぬ間と
神に願いを ララ かけましょか

カチューシャかわいや わかれのつらさ
今宵一夜に降る雪の
明日は野山の ララ 道かくせ

カチューシャかわいや わかれのつらさ
せめて又逢うそれまでは
同じ姿で ララ いてたもれ

カチューシャかわいや わかれのつらさ
つらい別れの涙の隙に
風は野を吹く ララ 日は暮れる

カチューシャかわいや わかれのつらさ
広い野原をとぼとぼと
一人出て行く ララ 明日の旅 


Katyusha's Song / The Song of Resurrection

My dear Katyusha, how bitter is the parting,
If only until the light snow melts away,
Shall we offer a prayer, la-la, to the gods?

My dear Katyusha, how bitter is the parting,
May the snow that falls this very night,
Hide the paths of the fields and mountains, la-la, by tomorrow!

My dear Katyusha, how bitter is the parting,
If only until we meet again,
Please remain, la-la, just as you are now!

My dear Katyusha, how bitter is the parting,
Through the blur of tears from this painful separation,
The wind blows across the field, la-la, and the sun goes down.

My dear Katyusha, how bitter is the parting,
Trudging along the vast, open plain,
Setting out all alone, la-la, on tomorrow's journey.



Finally, one more contemporary hit, but in a much later rendition. The song by Noguchi Ujo (lyrics) and Nakayama Shinpei (music) is a classic precursor to enka. This song is one of the most important milestones in Japanese music history: it became the anthem of the general apathy, grief, and hopelessness following the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923. Following its first recording in 1923, it had an untraceably large number of releases, live performances, and appearances in various works. This version of "The Boatman's Song" is from the film Rainy Days (1957), directed by Hisamatsu Seiji.



"The Boatman's Song" performed by Baishō Chieko (Video via YouTube)



船頭小唄

おれは河原の 枯れすすき
同じお前も 枯れすすき
どうせ二人は この世では
花の咲かない 枯れすすき

死ぬも生きるも ねえおまえ
水の流れに 何変ろ
おれもお前も 利根川の
船の船頭で 暮らそうよ

枯れた真菰に 照らしてる
潮来出島の お月さん
わたしゃこれから 利根川の
船の船頭で 暮らすのよ 


The Boatman's Song

I am but a withered rush on the riverbank,
And you, my dear, are just the same: a withered rush.
In any case, the two of us in this world,
Are nothing but withered rushes that will never bloom.

Whether we live or die, oh, my dear,
What difference does it make in the flowing of the water?
Both you and I, upon the Tone River,
Let us make our living as boatmen on the ships!

The moon is shining down upon the withered wild rice,
Over the town of Itako Dejima.
From now on, upon the Tone River,
I shall make my living as a boatman on the ships.



Since I am predictably not going to deal with modern enka, I will evoke, for the duration of one recording, what developed in the wake of the recordings heard so far. Singer Misora Hibari is the queen of modern enka, one of her famous songs being "Like the Flow of the River" (川の流れのように), which was released on her last album in 1989. In her performance, one can perfectly enjoy the emotional vibrato of the kobushi singing technique, the presence of strings and brass in the arrangement, and the song's melancholic lyricism, yet intense emotional charge.



"Like the Flow of the River" performed by Misora Hibari (Video via YouTube)


Since I cannot publish the lyrics of this song due to copyright reasons, here is a brief summary of them:

The lyrics, written by Akimoto Yasushi (composition by Mitake Akira), present a deeply moving, philosophical meditation on human existence, using the metaphor of a flowing river to depict the journey of life. The narrator reflects on the long, narrow, and often rugged path they have walked blindly over the years, noting that looking back reveals just how far they have traveled from their hometown. Life is described as a journey without a map, filled with bumpy roads and sharp turns, yet accepted with graceful resignation.

Central to the song is the iconic refrain, where life is likened to the steady, unceasing flow of a river. Just as the river moves gently across changing eras while the sky endlessly turns to twilight, human beings must navigate their own hardships. The narrative touches upon the comfort of companionship, traveling this endless road with loved ones while searching for dreams. Even when rain turns the path into mud, the lyrics offer a message of resilience, reminding the listener that sunny days will always return. Ultimately, the song concludes with a desire to peacefully surrender oneself to this natural flow, waiting for the snow to melt with the changing seasons while listening to the eternal, gentle murmur of the blue stream.

Although I wanted to reach the initiatives of Korean trot in this part, I think it will be better to stop here, otherwise this post would be endlessly long. Next time, however, we will continue with that.



→ On to Part 5




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