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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