My Showa Kayou 33 A Scat of Love at Dawn 1969
Japanese Title "Yoake no Scat"
Scatting freely so,
a nameless tune fills the air,
no words to be found—
yet deep within my heartbeat,
unspoken feelings resound.
1969 Oricon Top 10: A Kaleidoscope of Japanese Music
In 1969, the 44th year of the Showa era, the Oricon charts offered a stunningly eclectic mix of music—a true festival of genres, blending influences from across the globe. Japanese popular music at the time was fearless in its creativity, pulling in elements from every corner of the world and reshaping them into something distinctly Japanese.
Take a look at the top 10 hits from that year:
Kayoukyoku (Pop): Sayuri Yoshinaga, "Yoruake no Scat"
Enka (Ballad): Shinichi Mori, "Minatomachi Blues"
Kayoukyoku (Pop): Ayumi Ishida, "Blue Light Yokohama"
Kayoukyoku (Pop): Pinky & Killers, "Koi no Kisetsu"
Children’s Song: Osamu Minagawa, "Kuro Neko no Tango"
Folk: Ryoko Moriyama, "Kinjirareta Koi"
Enka: Mina Aoe, "Ikebukuro no Yoru"
Mood Kayou: Hiroshi Uchiyamada & Cool Five, "Nagasaki wa Kyou mo Ame Datta"
Rock: Carmen Maki, "Tokiniwa Haha no Nai Ko no You ni"
Enka: Mina Aoe, "Nagasaki Blues"
It’s a lineup that reflects the wonderful diversity of Japanese music—a genre-crossing celebration akin to a festival where no sound is left out.
In Japan, we’re blessed with an abundance of global culinary inspirations that have been creatively reimagined. Music, much like our cuisine, thrives on blending and adapting different elements. Just as Japan is said to be protected by eight million gods, there seems to be a place for all deities, big and small. We never chase them away, and that openness extends to music as well.
Sure, we label the genres—kayoukyoku, enka, mood kayou—but really, it’s all Japanese music at heart.
As a first-year junior high school student in 1969, I felt incredibly fortunate to grow up surrounded by this musical richness. I can still sing all 10 of these hits today. Back then, I watched TV music programs religiously, glued to the screen as I memorized lyrics and sang along.
One particular standout from that year was Sayuri Yoshinaga’s "Yoruake no Scat." It was utterly unique. A hit song with no real lyrics? Just "lu," "pa," and "ra." That was my introduction to what we call “scat.” Most of the song consists of this mysterious vocalization. At first, I found it strange, but then I started thinking: maybe these wordless melodies are how we express feelings too deep for words.
The song ends with just one memorable line:
🎵 "The clock for two lovers in love stops." 🎵
And that’s it. What an ending!
I still remember my first impression of Sayuri Yoshinaga. She had a mature, understated look for a kayoukyoku singer—not flashy at all. Her monolid eyes and classical singing style seemed so unconventional for pop music. Years later, I discovered her sister was a trained opera singer. Together, the Yoshinaga sisters have created some extraordinary music, including duets of Japanese nursery songs, folk melodies, and even classical scat performances.
One performance that stands out is their live rendition of Mozart’s "Turkish March" as a scat. It’s simply unmatched. (If you haven’t seen it, it’s on YouTube—give it a listen!)
By the way, did you know "Yoruake no Scat" sparked a bit of controversy? Kyojin Ohashi reportedly called it a rip-off of Simon & Garfunkel’s "The Sound of Silence." And yes, there is a resemblance. But there was no major uproar. Japanese kayoukyoku was, after all, barely on the radar of international musicians at the time.
Looking back at the Oricon Top 10 from 1969, one thing is clear: Japanese music has always been a delightful toy box of ideas, styles, and surprises. This spirit of playful innovation paved the way for today’s globally beloved J-POP.
Japanese kayoukyoku—forever the best!
I cannot read or write in English.
This text has been translated by ChatGPT.
I haven't edited it, so there may be some strange parts.
【Reference Video】
【Japanese Version of the Article】