Been thinking a bit about true otaku culture recently (as in, our friends the Japanese ファン), what with Patrick Galbraith’s new book out on the Japanese market (and a fall release for the American audience on the way).
Akiba-kei.
My question this time around might be… Where do we draw the line between the promulgation of more-recent otaku culture and any differences with the older otaku culture? The primary image as evidence is Akihabara, of course, the geographical and cultural landmark of the otaku audience in Japan. Are there more correlations?
My initial thoughts emerged from examining the transformation of anime songs over time and the images associated with the music. There are not many cases where songs are reused throughout a series’ lifecycle (as in when the anime series is reincarnated by different directors after a lengthy withdrawal from television broadcast), but when a production team reapplies a theme to a series, the images tend to reflect the context of the times, different from before.
A second image is that of the Akiba-kei dance, a style that seems to be geared toward otaku. The style brings focus away from the singing to flashy yet simple hand and body movements. Such dancing derives its origins in the idol boom of the 1980s, and I would argue evolved further through the popular influence of Para Para in the late 1990s.
An interesting set of videos to examine are two instances of a song from the many incarnations of Macross, which ghostlightning posted to his blog last week. The song, 私の彼はパイロット (My Boyfriend is a Pilot), retains the original lyrics and melody from its first appearance in the original Macross series, dated 1982. The second video, below, shows the reanimation of the song, set in the Macross Frontier saga, dated 2008.
Sung by Lynn Minmay, 1982.
Sung by Ranka Lee, 2008.
Taking a look at the former video, Minmay doesn’t give us much to work with in terms of dancing, besides subtle swaying and a brief attempt at hand motion. In a way, it resembles the generic Japanese idols of the 1980s. For instance, take a look at Seiko Matsuda, who even today retains her popularity as an idol. In the flashback clips below, Minmay’s and Matsuda’s approach to the audience seems identical.
Seiko Matsuda, looking back on her career.
Examining the later video, though, Ranka Lee’s performance much more resembles the Akiba-kei style of dancing associated with maid-style idols of the otaku brand. Clearly much more hand/body motion, clearly much more skirt flashing. Comparable to Reni, below:
Reni, of New York City karaoke “fame.”
I suppose one of the defining characteristics between the “old” and “new” mindsets of the otaku culture is moé, but how much does that factor into what most fans observe as fan service? Heisei Democracy asserts (scroll down to (Fan)service), “In certain respects moe as a genre could be considered an exercise in fanservice,” but I resist asserting a correlation between the two. Certainly, moé characteristics are in a way a method of targeting a specific audience, but fanservice is distinct in its nature and intentions inside of an animated series, while moé characterizes most of the show (given certain respects).
In relation to the dancing idol, the fan service of the ’80s depends on a flip of the skirt or the wink of an eye. Compared to the moé image, though, such things do not necessarily titillate the (otaku) viewer as much as the essence of the moé show itself. Regarding Ranka Lee’s interpretation of 私の彼は…, it appears as if the image of the female has been caught up in the trend toward moé-ization of everything anime. Contrastingly, Minmay represents a period in subcultural time, encapsulating the feeling toward that which is adored, by the older generation of otaku.
伏見いなり、京都
