The idea of music canons inspires a lot of conflicting thoughts, at least in the age of social media. On Tumblr/Twitter (or at least the music-obsessed lanes I stumble across), the idea of a set of songs or albums towering above the rest mostly inspires disdain, with people pushing against the idea of a centralized set of works considered more vital than the rest (largely in part because of how predictable, outdated, white and male-centric these efforts have been in English-language media). Annoyance by canons has inspired efforts at new canons. Yet whenever one of these gigantic lists comes out, people still obsess over where musicians and their work end up.
That’s what happened with Rolling Stone’s latest stab at “The 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time.” I can’t think of a magazine that historically sums up the unease so many have towards canons than this one, who haven’t met a set of The Band loosies they haven’t given at least four starts to. This latest installment, though, inspired a brief hoopla in music circles on sites such as Twitter, between deft thought and confused glances largely at the choices for the 500 to 400 set. The whole endeavor might seem silly in the internet age, but it still inspires plenty of conversation (and I can only imagine it brings in the clicks).
Part of the fun of any list is complaining about what’s left off, and with Rolling Stone’s newest 500, my biggest gripe comes from how little music from beyond North America and Europe appears here. While the final Rolling Stone canon certainly does better in this regard than previous efforts — more African and, especially Spanish-language albums appear — it still rams into the problem any “the best” offering is going to find when it comes to representing everything, and lacks much outside of the English realm.
Most glaring, there’s no albums from Asia here at all — a common issue in these sort of works. Jonathan McNamara created a list of ten Japanese albums for The Japan Times that could have been included in Rolling Stone, a nice bit of discourse building also placing the spotlight on Japanese creators. It would be great if that could happen — but then again, the Japanese music media has been bad about creating their own canons.
“The Japanese music magazine industry resembles what existed in America before the rise of Rolling Stone. That’s to say, record companies — the main advertisers — see their wishes strongly reflected on every page, and because of this, magazines’ main job is to praise new releases,” Daisuke Kawasaki, contributing editor to Rolling Stone Japan, wrote in the 2007 edition of the glossy. That served as a rallying cry for their own “100 Greatest Japanese Rock Albums Of All Time” list, which W. David Marx — who translated the above quote on NeoJaponisme — emphasized how outside of the norm for Japanese music publications this was. Shortly after, now-defunct publication Snoozer countered with their own list, partially to push back against the idea that Happy End’s Kazemachi Roman was number one. As Marx wrote back then…”This, my friends, is how a canon is born!”
When people argue about the worthlessness of canons, I would point to Japan as an example of what happens when you don’t have a starting point to get into music…or something to kick back against. Ian Martin wrote wonderfully about the importance of these kinds of lists for The Japan Times back in 2014, at a moment when these types of efforts were still largely reserved to disc guides and “mooks” (hybrid books-magazines popular in Japan). The lack of real criticism at this time and few places to see what has truly left an impact domestically hurt both how consumers here interacted with music while also resulting in Japanese music during the 2010s to usually be pegged as “wacky,” or something to sneer at.
With the preface that the music writing industry that Kawasaki talks about in the above quote still largely exists — so many magazines charging for coverage, sources and writers asking for payments for quotes that would make any journalist in the States wince, a lot more than that, my bad memories are flaring up! — the state of canon building did change significantly in the mid 2010s. By then, Music Magazine had published a top-100 list of the best albums of the 2000s, beginning an effort to map out the just-finished decade, and by 2016 they released an even more ballyhooed ranking for the ‘90s (featuring the wonderful sight of Phew placed right alongside SMAP). There have been issues of music magazines devoted to top rap albums, the top city pop songs of the 1970s and ‘80s, and most recently a real micro canon devoted to the best 50 songs of Perfume. At the same time, even more disc guides have popped up, diving into corners like New Age, vaporwave, city pop and most charmingly “Obscure City Pop CD’s 1986 - 2006,” a wild effort to extend the definition of just what that now-trendy style can be. Even Kawasaki put out his own “Best 100” book in 2015, adding his own perspective and basically updating the Rolling Stone list for about a decade later.
In the decade-plus since the Rolling Stone list first came out, it’s fascinating to watch how an actual canon of sorts has settled, influencing listeners both in Japan and abroad. Some shared points aren’t surprising — save for Snoozer celebrating RC Succession, that Happy End album has become the definitive Japanese LP, with the likes of Yellow Magic Orchestra, Eiichi Ohtaki and Yuming being top 20 staples — while other bits reveal how this is all still in debate — one of the most surprising things about the Rolling Stone and Snoozer lists are how low Sheena Ringo ends up (with Kawasaki pushing her out completely in his 2015 update), something Music Magazine tried to correct with their ‘90s and Aughts lists, though nobody lists Kalk Samen Kuri no Hana despite it being her best (see, discourse!). Pop has gradually been more welcomed in these grounds though every single attempt at a canon shares a dismissal of Tetsuya Komuro, with none of his ‘90s output ever getting love (but Namie Amuro’s 2000s work being spotlighted).
The very fact these kind of nerdy observations and discussions can happen is fantastic. Yet I’d go a step further and say this shift towards more ranking and listmaking — which, skepticism ahead, could very well be shaped by advertising forces, though this is better than a 300 word blurb about how rad the new Spitz album is — has helped change the perception of Japanese music at home and abroad. Mainly, people are just more interested in stuff from the past — which is especially true abroad, as older Japanese music enjoys newfound love abroad. Maybe a bit of a stretch, but seeing how Fishmans has become a critical darling in recent years both here and in English-language circles at the same time these kinds of lists all put it in their top tens feels like anything but a coincidence.
Now the next step — tearing this freshly built canon to the ground and having a new generation push, like, Sakanaction and DAOKO to the top.
BONUS QUICK THOUGHTS ON MUSIC MAGAZINE’S “BEST 50 PERFUME SONGS LIST” BECAUSE OF COURSE
Note: I guess spoilers for a list follow, turn back if you don’t want that.
The top ten: 1 “Polyrhythm” 2 “Chocolate Disco” 3 “Electro World” 4 “GAME” 5 “EDGE” 6 “Computer City” 7 “Macaroni” 8 “Perfect Star, Perfet Style” 9 “Baby Cruising Love” 10 “FUSION”
That’s a pretty boilerplate top ten all things considered — you definitely can, but it’s tough making any list like this and not landing on “Polyrhythm” at number one, the narrative hook is just too juicy (and, well, you know, perfect song) — though I’m a little surprised that “FUSION” ends up being the representative for 2010s Perfume in this part.
Fun thought experiment time: what Perfume song will be their definitive hit decades from now? I’d place my bet on the bronze medalist here — Perfume have been ahead of the curve on a lot of sonic developments that became global sensations (see: major EDM producers seemingly download everything Yasutaka Nakata produced and applying it to their sound), but “Electro World” sounds really on point now, in how it merges genres together with ease while also letting the vocal effects flow freely (also helps that it can be read as a song about the inevitable decline of all modern socieities…eek!). Put a rap verse in here and it’s the greatest hyperpop song of all time…hell, it might still be.
Credit to Music Magazine for acknowledging the one song where Perfume actually do rap (#44).
Future Pop charts three songs on this list, which seems about right for the moment (“FUSION” at #10, “Tokyo Girl” at 26 and the title track sneaking in at #48). My personal take on that album remains the same — it’s half Nakata phoning it in, and half Nakata getting really into a generation of artists who were mimicking him and creating this werid sonic feedback loop, with some weird mutations worked in. It’s disjointed as a whole…but the highs on this one are aging really well, and deserves a little more of your attention if you breezed through it on release.
Fifty songs is a lot for one group, even one that has been around for nearly two decades, but some of these gotta go. “Tokyo Girl” is fine, but hardly top 50 let alone #26; “Mirai No Museum” comes in at #32 despite being Perfume’s single worst song, less enjoyable than the Hiroshima-area releases where they sound like an idol group you see performing outside of an out-of-the-way train station; I’m happy to defend Cosmic Explorer but not “Cosmic Explorer” (#34); “23:30” is an interesting Perfume song — Perfume, if they existed in a smoky jazz club! — but at #43 it blocks off much better work; “Inryoku” (#46) is charming but if you are going to highlight their early techno-pop days, gotta be “Vitamin Drop.”
Songs that I’d probably slide in: the aforementioned “Vitamin Drop;” I’d just put in all of GAME and nudge “Plastic Smile” and “Butterfly” in; “The Best Thing” is my vote for most underrated Perfume song, and probably makes my personal top ten; “Hurly Burly” must work well only with listeners outside of Japan, because the all-Japanese voting bloc here ignore it; given how live performances factor into this list, I’m a bit surprised concert-staple “Party Maker” didn’t sneak in; and last, “Mugenmirai.”
Best place to end is the end — “Point” wraps up the list at #50, which I’m both happy to see included though also…here’s another under-celebrated number reminding of how much great stuff Nakata and the group have gotten up to in the 2010s. This felt especially welcome in 2012 at the heigh of bass-drop EDM and LMFAO (it’s the b-side to “Spending All My Time,” a song I once saw a stadium of people mistake for “Party Rock Anthem”), but still sounds fresh today, featuring one of the sweetest vocal performances they ever recorded.
Written by Patrick St. Michel (patrickstmichel@gmail.com)
Twitter — @mbmelodies