Make Believe Mailer 80: Kaitenkayokyoku
Catchy, Ain't It?
Spotify Japan introduced its “Gacha Pop” playlist in early May, and in short order this effort has revealed itself to be much more than a simple curation of contemporary Japanese songs. It’s part branding strategy, as officials at the streaming platform told Rolling Stone Japan recently, but also a clever acknowledgement of how Japanese music travels in the 2020s.
That hinges on the platforms themselves — “Gacha Pop” uses the metaphor of a Gacha Gacha capsule toy machine to reflect the random and downright surpirsing way J-pop of all shades finds listeners. That’s thanks to streaming platforms themselves (pat yourself on the should, Spotify!) but also TikTok, where anything in theory can spark a trend or soundtrack a viral moment. This ecosystem benefits a Japanese music industry that, for the most part, has rejected trends, allowing a wide variety of styles and sounds to connect rather than offer constant replication1. Thanks to the way people recieve music and the general fragmentation of culture, art is a constant surpirse — pull the lever, see what you get.
Alongside all of that, “Gacha Pop” has brought about something even more unexpected — optimism. A Spotify playlist alone can’t take credit for this, but “Gacha Pop” does remind of how much Japanese music is finding a way in the world today, and how the industry at large is finally figuring the market out. It’s a marked change from the 2010s, where experts and onlookers alike focused mostly on how much South Korea appeared to be lapping Japan in terms of pop culture clout, and wincing at government failures like Cool Japan. The success abroad J-pop did find was rarely celebrated, and more treated like a fluke by domestic media. That’s all changing.
But here’s the thing…I lived through the 2010s in Japan…and Japanese music absolutely was connecting abroad and undergoing an epoch shift not unlike what “Gacha Pop” represents.
A defining hit of the 2010s…wait, don’t laugh, I’m being serious!!!
What I personally like about the idea of “Gacha Pop” is seeing Japanese music in a new light, not necessarily in sonic similarities but rather how it enters the world. Yet I also bristle a little at the idea that this newfound attention abroad is just a result of major labels finally giving into streaming and TikTok kids loving “Night Dancer.”
The 2010s, after all, saw the first true shift in how J-pop approaches digital platforms via YouTube, first as a source for “wacky” and “weird” (but often great) outliers in the first half of the decade, and as the go-to source for discovery in the back end. I think the constant comparisons to K-pop took away from how many unexpected Japanese artists were able to connect internatoinally via YouTube, aided by strong visual flair and, most of the time at least, offering something different.
Seeing as I’ll probably spend large chunks of the next 30 years fighting for the “the 2010s were actually pretty good for Japanese music, everyone” platform, I’ve been thinking about how the “Gacha Pop” prompt could apply to last decade’s music. But it would require a different metaphor…something capturing the importance of a striking visual side with the ability for listenres to choose on their own based off that initial glance, sometimes getting a world-class tune and other times a noteworthy novelty. Hmmmm, what could that be….
It’s kaitensushi, ie conveyor-belt sushi, another Japanese innovation that has made strides globally and works wonders for this exercise. Let’s create our own 2010s playlist, smashing up this concept with the alliterative-friendly word used to describe older Japanese pop songs — say hello, to “Kaitenkayokyoku.”
The five-tuna-on-one-plate special of Kaitenkayokyoku
I made a YouTube playlist for my interpretation of Kaitenkayokyoku, which you can view here. So, what warranted inclusion? I had to make some rules reflecting the 2010s:
The song has to have a music video, and said video has to be on YouTube: As lovely as most of the songs featured here are, let’s not forget how Japanese music was picked up in the 2010s — primarily via video, uploaded to YouTube. This was true internationally and at home, so to reflect the times, I made this a YouTube playlist…and required the video to be on the platform for inclusion. This rule did knock out some seeminlgy vital inclusions — DAOKO and TeddyLoid’s “Me! Me! Me!” illustrates the “WTF Japan!?” vibe of the early 2010s and inspired countless reaction videos from the blandest people on the planet…but it’s nowhere on YouTube, so it’s not getting on our sonic conveyor belt.
The song has to be available in full on Youtube: The old-school “30 second MV preview” isn’t going to cut it. The biggest casuality here is also a proto-TikTok essential — Nishino Kana’s “Torisetsu,” a cutesy song inspiring hundreds of fan interpretations, but which can only be enjoyed on YouTube as a “short version.” Not in this newsletter, Nishino!
Our playlist will contain the same number of songs as “Gacha Pop,” 75 on the dot.
Only one entry per artist: No hulking tech company is paying me to do this, so I’m going to veer away from “Gacha Pop’s” multi-artist approach in favor of more variety, even if it forced some really tough choices along the way.
Songs must be from the 2010s…ish: The 2020s aren’t allowed, that’s Gacha territory, but I have allowed one 2009 video to sneak in.
Goofiness gets the green light: Yes, yes, we are all great people in the 2020s shunning all scents of “Weird Japan,” but look…that mindset absolutely powered some of the most viral J-pop videos of the decade forward, even if artists like Kyary Pamyu Pamyu and BABYMETAL deserved recognition without the gawking. Still, in the same way you’ll sometimes see some senses-destroying roll scoot down the conveyor belt, we must acknoledge the silly stuff, both works with merit but interpretted as weird (FEMM, Momoiro Clover Z) and the quirky bait (LADYBABY, MeseMoa., rapping grannies).
Sights matters as much if not more than sound: Some of the tougher calls here came down to which video in an artist’s catalog looked better. Best example — by metircs, Perfume’s “Flash” should be up here, but I think “View” — featuring a nod to Human Tetris, a huge Japan-on-YouTube development of that decade — stands out more. Another example…ONE OK ROCK are one of the biggest rock bands of the 2010s, but man…their most notable video moment came when vocalist Taka Moriuchi popped up in Charli XCX’s “Boys.” Man With A Mission, a walking gimmick, get on becuase they are just so much more visually interesting.
But sometimes you have to hand it to the views: Can’t tell the story of Kaitenkayokyoku without mega YouTube hits like Kenshi Yonezu’s “Lemon” or Radwimps’ “Zenzenzense” even if the videos themselves are…kind of weak.
Assholes are allowed: Enon Kawatani shows up.
A viral live clip can get in if it is really central to what this playlist is about: In otherwards…the best way to capture Hatsune Miku’s reputation in the 2010s is to go to official footage from a live show that left reporters and news anchors slack-jawed for half a decade.
If YouTube won’t let me share a song in a playlist, it’s out: So I guess you can’t put “videos made for kids” in public playlists? Fine, but that means toddler-geared ear-worm “Paprika” can’t get on the conveyor belt. It also results in baffling moments like the song Tempura Kidz did with AG Cook being deemed “baby shit” by YouTube…but much more kid-centric offerings from the group being OK.
A touch of curation is permitted: In the same way “Gacha Pop” features a lot of deeper cuts the further you go, my version of Kaitenkayokyoku bends towards personal taste with idols whose overall impact was slight but wowed at the time (Especia) and artsier clips reflecting indie taste (Cuushe). Part of the fun of any of these prompts…anyone can construct their own!
So, with all that out of the way…once again here is my Kaitenkayokyoku playlist in all its 2010s glory. Now, for a few observations gleamed while putting this together.
There really was a huge divide between “J-pop” and “anime music” for most of the 2010s. Startling to think about today when the two sides are practically the same. Yet for most of the last decade, their was a true border between them, made trickier by how strict so many anime-adjacent songs were treated by social media.
Even as the company lightened up and got with the YouTube times…I have a really hard time thinking of any Johnny & Associates’ groups that could be included here? Save for Arashi’s late-career hail mary at Western success (put it in a museum), I just don’t see a lot of great videos from this decade from their talent.
It’s fun tracing the eveolution of “city pop aesthetics” through this list, starting with Hitomitoi’s faithful glitzy imagery on “Dive” up to the purple-grid-anime-gif stylings of Sasuke’s “J-pop Ha Owaranai.” Also just for the record — the mutant seven-minute version of “Plastic Love” that kickstarted the greater trend in the style gets an honorary spot here, though it’s kind of a different beast.
Do you ever just watch the music video for “R.Y.U.S.E.I.” and wonder…is this like the equivalent of watching neon-soaked video footage of Tokyo in the Bubble for modern-day Yanki?
I thought this experiment would be friendlier to indie artists but…not at all! Turns out a great video requires money, which hurts a whole generation of creators more focused on sound than spectacle. Weirdly, “Gacha Pop” offers way more opportunity for this corner than the 2010s could have, at least via YouTube. I mean, bless Altered Zones for…however long that ran.
A good flip of this whole post would be taking a more domestic look at the Kaitenkayokyoku template, ignoring international surprises with no traction at home (sorry FEMM, sorry Yayoi Daimon). I think you’d end up with a lot more like, GReeeeN and Funky Monkey Babys which…errrrrr, well, I’d hate that decade, too.
The single hardest choice necesstated by the one song per artist rule centeres around the defining act of the 21st century…AKB48. I think you can learn a lot about a person by asking them to choose which video defines AKB more, “Heavy Rotation” or “Koisuru Fortune Cookie.” Might learn some uncomfortable things about yourself! I really struggled with this one, but landed on “Koisuru” simply because it features a viral dance designed to be spread (AKB…eons ahead), which seems more fitting for the 2010s.
When does “Gacha Pop” start? I think I found the answer via a song I figured would be a lock for Kaitenkayokyoku2. Indie-pop bounce-a-long “Summertime” finds under-the-radar projects (read: I blogged about them a bunch in like 2015 / 2016) cinnamons and evening cinema working together to craft a slight city-pop-ish number overflowing with good vibes. This was a hit, and the video is cute!
However, it becmae a hit thanks to then-fledgling app TikTok…you could argue “Summertime” is the first true TikTok-powered viral hit in the country. It’s of the 2010s for sure…sweet, sweet indie-pop!…but the way it became a surpirse hit is a preview of where we are now.Written by Patrick St. Michel (patrickstmichel@gmail.com)
Twitter — @mbmelodies
I feel it’s telling that “Gacha Pop” features nearly no K-pop-indebted groups or even LDH boy bands — no NiziU, JO1, BE:FIRST or the like anywhere in sight. Only &TEAM, of them all, makes it on.
I feel more crazy the more I write sentences like this.