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Lifted from the unkempt desk of Alexander C. Leavitt, Adjunct Professor, Department of Alchemy, 4-273

9 月 30 日 2008 年

The protean weather patterns of the fair city of Kyoto have as of late been lending a pinch of vigor to my lesser health, allowing a brief escape from the minutiae of my daily interactions and distractions around the office to let my mind wander like a Kamogawanian river koi. I have decided to approach once again the fickle topic of cross-culturalization and its implications in the contemporary Japanese nation-state. As recently as recent can ever be, I dissected the captivating subject of Jero, Pennsylvania-born Jerome White turned enka extraordinaire in the grand land of Japan. Having mastered the subtle strands of traditional enka vocalism, this young lad has captivated the minds of old and young Japanese alike, particularly given his American-hip-hop-ified clothing, dance breaks, and music videos. Realizing that I had only grazed the surface in my previous report, I have now set out to reanalyze the musical (or is it visual?) phenomenon known to all modern Japanese citizens as Jero.

From my previous engagement, I would like to reintroduce some important points, to be thrown momentarily into a paper shredder. Direct from Wikipedia’s article on what Japan calls its traditional music, enka:
Enka lyrics… usually are about the themes of love and loss, loneliness, enduring hardships, and persevering in the face of difficulties, even suicide or death.
Enka suggests a more traditional, idealized, or romanticized aspect of Japanese culture and attitudes…

Reuters reports:
Jero is bridging the generation gap.

And to quote my own phrasal abuse:
Basically, as hiphop was remixed in Japan stylistically and culturally, Jero re-remixed the hiphop genre and culture through enka’s respective genre and culture.

Lately, I have been immersed in Ian Condry’s “Hip Hop Japan,” an anthropological look at the Nipponese hiphop clubs and underground scenes, while being bombarded with criticisms from my fellow Japanese Popular Culture colleagues.

Just this week, much was to be discussed over the matter of authenticity of image, authenticity of sound, authenticity of culture. My own observations tend toward agreement with [name of source not included, as written document is here illegible], supporting culture as based on habits (read: actions) and subculture as grounded in style (read: impressions). Hip-hop, in just terms, falls under both culture and subculture: the former, through the trends in its music and associated dancing, graffiti, etc.; the latter, by ways of an aesthetic that conducts the masses into a homogenous flurry of caps and chains. Japan’s history of music follows a sinuous, beaten path of meticulous appropriation, ever striving for the pure authenticity of that which had been borrowed (ie. early jazz in Japan). The same seems to follow with image, even in modern times: Gucci and Prada and Coach; cut, dyed, and chemicalized hair; high heels and high-style garb of popular (American? Hollywood?), pleasurable visuals. Four weeks walked on the streets of the old capital accumulate to one word: image.

To emphasize, I must restate that enka as an art form, whether it shares any history with Western music (particularly country and/or folk songs), partakes of the same emotional urges that lead to its moving music and lyrics. “Enduring hardships” and so forth mirror the same sentimentality found in either blues (jazz) or hip-hop, a common area of some musical Venn diagram that led Snoop Dogg to cover Kyo Sakamoto’s Ue o muite arukō on his premiere album (read Condry for more).

The amalgamation of hip hop and enka in Jero’s compositions result in a harmonization of genres that pushes both styles beyond their original expectations, one that brings together modern and traditional, one that can no more contradict the statement that “enka suggests a more traditional, idealized, or romanticized aspect of Japanese culture and attitudes” (Wikipedia, above). In the first video I had displayed, a music store owner comments, “Great voice. Fantastic and tender.”

However, and here begins the dissatisfaction with my previous entirely-positive critical eye toward Jero, the amalgamation of hip hop and enka in Jero’s performances result in a general dissonance, both audially and visually. As my astute colleague Christina Xu has pointed out, “One thing I am wondering, though, is what role hip-hop plays exactly in all this. It seems to me that to characterize his music as enka remixed with hip-hop is a bit of a stretch. I listened to Umiyuki… in full, and there’s none of the beats or the flows that you would associate with hip-hop music.” Rewatching the Umiyuki music video, the first five seconds include an introductory phrase of hip-hop, but slowly transition to the electric-guitar-led, conventional enka sounds. As Jero and crew walk down a poorly-lit sidewalk, the pause and subsequent hip-hop break moves clash hard with the Japanese country tunes. As Jero initially begins to sing, his body stays firmly rooted on stage, hands passionately roaming in front of his face in the cliched manner that classical enka singers are known to use. If the music and lyrics were muted, the graffiti-styled lyrics displayed on screen plus Jero’s ghetto getup give the impression of authentic American hip-hop. Sound returned, the lyrics of frozen rain, ocean whitecaps, lost love, and desperate suicide confront the succeeding bridge, during which synchronized dance moves are displayed against a graffiti-covered wall behind a fence reminiscent of a public Bronx basketball court. The strangest transition of song and setting occurs between the first and second sections of the melody (preceding and following the bridge), when during the enka portions Jero stands lit on a stage, removed from the actual “hip-hop locale,” instead now performing enka in its original context. By the end of the song, the music jumps back and forth between the street and theatrical settings, to remind the viewer of the stark contrast between the hip-hop and enka styles, while they are forced together throughout the four-and-a-half minute music video.

Agreeing with Xu, I hold that much of the pleasure behind Jero’s popularity is derived from his foreignness (read: that black American who can sing in Japanese). In interview, although some of the audience comment on his perfected tenor, one woman merely mentions, “I nearly fainted when I first saw him. He’s so cute.” And this comment comes from the young Japanese lady sporting cornrows and a Fubu-style hoodie.

The fascination of image and style in Japan is not a negative aspect of the fashion culture or popular culture of the area by any means. Consequences abound, such as the visual’s penchant to categorize and stereotype. Such an emphasis on the visual merely means that in the battle for authenticity, the subcultural attitudes shine much more brightly against a cultural background. Instead of discovering a new genre or remix, we see Jero as a black mask over a yellow face. In the first photo in the set above, Jero’s profile gives the appearance of an ordinary album cover (one that may or may not typify enka albums); however, the diamond earring stands out as a beacon of the hipo-hop subculture awaiting any listener. In the second photo, we see Jero in his hip-hop-styled attire, but his background dancers were hats, clothes, and a crewcut that disguise the bodies underneath, as if their Japanesenes must be repressed to achieve the authentic American rap style. Finally, in the third picture, more than the microphone or headphones shine a thick ring, watch, and chain — the bling to which younger fans uninterested in the enka will be drawn. Jero certainly bridges the generation gap, but it seems that he sits between the generations, stuck among two conflicting genres, instead of drawing the two eras together.

I want to retract my previous statement: “Basically, as hiphop was remixed in Japan stylistically and culturally, Jero re-remixed the hiphop genre and culture through enka’s respective genre and culture.” Remix as it is known contemporarily cannot be used to describe the Jero phenomenon. Instead, Jero’s boon of popularity is caused by an attempt to remix two cultures, the enka musical culture and the hip-hop musical culture, but one that results in the layering over of the style-based hip-hop subculture on the enka musical culture. It is a masque of masks that imitates an amalgamation of genres but one that in reality echos facial make-up or the wrapping of a gift.

Please expect to see more writings soon; I promise I’m working on composing my ideas into solid forms. Next up, probably more on Japanese visual culture in the analysis of Engrish, quotidian philosophies, and the massage of the message. Also, Japanese toilets.