Throwback Thursday: Ayumi Hamasaki – LOVEppears

 

Starting off with a classic Ayu ballad, the slow swell of TO BE immediately reminds me of what I love most about her music. Ayu has composed plenty of gentle songs like this, and it would be easy for them to become samey and bland, but her works of this era all manage to retain a unique aura that sets them apart from her more recent offerings. Many of them remain strong favourites with fans and the general public, and for good reason.

While I wouldn’t go as far to say TO BE is my favourite Ayu ballad, it comfortably sets a precedent for the greatness can expect in the coming years of her career as she quickly became one of Japan’s most successful female soloists. TO BE isn’t a complex song, in fact its production is rather basic and subdued, but it has a warm familiarity that, paired with its wistful lyrics, I find so relaxing.

As I grew up unable to watch any J-Pop PVs for a long time thanks to dial-up internet, I was unfamiliar with any of the videos for Ayu’s songs until much later in her career. Because of this, the strange imagery of Ayu in her wacky aunt outfit and casual hippie garb coupled with an anachronistic European boy seems goofy in comparison to the (in my opinion) more refined mental associations I’ve had with the song so long. I have to admit there’s something soothing about those kaleidoscope psychedelic aesthetics though…

 

 

Time for a mood change, and Fly high provides a perfect example of the pop-dance sound Ayu came to build her career around after experimenting with a more rock-based vibe on her previous album, A Song for xx. An energetic and uplifting song, the upfront club vibe of the PV matches it well, for a change.

You can easily hear its appeal for the then-burgeoning new internet generation, with its video game-esque melody and production. So many of my teenage days were spent bopping to this catchy and motivational tune, and it still makes me feel just as good now as it did then.

 

One of my favourite Ayu songs of her entire discography, Boys & Girls is an undeniably fun track that could get even the most reticent listener smiling and bouncing around in pure joy. It comes as no surprise, then, that it’s something of a concert requisite as it gets the audience leaping out of their seats in no time.

For such an uptempo song, its PV is amusingly sedate and underwhelming in comparison. I strongly suggest watching a live performance of it instead, just so you can see the room fill with happiness. Here you go:

 

Something about its mish-mash instrumentation gives it that special quirk you can only find in late 90s, turn-of-the-millennium music that completely dates it, yet I find it difficult to see this as a bad thing. I love every charmingly awkward, outmoded thing about it. Throw in some ambivalent lyrics reflecting the mind of a confused young person along with that unmistakeable synth riff, and you have a song that is so painfully of its time that it’s also timeless.

 

 

I don’t really want to say I saved the best for last, because to me, well, all of these songs are the best. However, there’s something special in the atmosphere kanariya manages to conjure that makes it a standout track to me. Sure, it sounds pretty dated – even more so than Boys & Girls – with its prepackaged club beats and Casio keyboard sound bites (and that’s just the Radio Edit – it came in many remixed and reworked forms, as was common for dance-pop singles at the time), but its melancholic melody and vocals stride in with a calm confidence you rarely see in pop music these days.

The insecurity of its lyrics may then come as a surprise, but they also feel perfectly in tune with what felt like the prevailing attitude of society at the time; that we were on the cusp of a new century, filled with excitement for what we all presumed would be a great leap forward to the future, offset by an unspoken uncertainty provoked by the rare closure of what we thought was the modern era. An era we were a little afraid to have to leave behind so soon despite all our hopes and dreams.

Maybe I’m getting a little deep with this, it is just a pop song… maybe. But kanariya takes me right back to the beginning of that new millennium and reminds me of all the collective desires and anxieties we had about it. The PV for kanariya, while obviously very much of its time, perfectly reflects that inner conflict to me; everything is overwhelmingly futuristic (at least futuristic in the way that we imagined “the future” would look like at the time – a lot of grey and black and too many screens), but the atmosphere is sullen and disconcerting, and nobody seems to be comfortable in their ultramodern surroundings.

A young Ayumi, covered in shining jewels and sequins, appears on the viewers’ multiple screens almost as a kind of distraction for them. Ignore the questionable stuff and look at me instead. Shiny modernity vs dystopian future… or maybe they just thought a bejeweled, platform-booted Ayu looked pretty cool on a picture disc.

Either way, not bad for a song that started out as a hidden track at the end of the album.

Tune in next time for the next instalment in this retrospective; Ayu’s 2000 offering, Duty.