Not about sukiyaki
What does an old song say about its times?
From the same source as some previous deep memories, one of our consultants pulled out a popular song of long ago. The unusual thing was that the song is entirely in Japanese.
To set the scene, we go back to the early 20th century and the rise of broadcast radio. It’s hard to imagine the depth of the impact this had on society: before, news and information had traveled at the speed of the horse or maybe the train. That meant that the scattered communities making up most of the world’s population were used to knowing things only weeks after they happened. Now people could tune in the evening news and find out what had happened thousands of miles away that same day.
Apart from making the world more immediate, it tended to make the US (at least) more homogeneous. A local radio station rarely had the resources to turn out a full day’s program, so there arose the networks. CBS, NBC, Mutual all had the money and expertise to create high-quality programs that people would want to listen to. But to sell them across the country they had to be understandable to as many as possible, which meant conforming to (or maybe creating) a common culture and language. Out on the plains there were many pockets of immigrants still speaking German or Norwegian (memorably depicted by Garrison Keillor), and many languages in neighborhoods of the cities; radio went out in English.
When television took over news and drama, it also took over the same network structure and common culture. Radio remained the place for music, particularly in places (like cars and at work) where record players were impractical. The culture continued to be common and English-speaking. For decades there was a weekly program called “American Top 40,” implying a single list of popular songs for the whole country.
In 1963 one of those songs was in Japanese. Now, consider that not one in a hundred of those Americans listening spoke the language. It wouldn’t be unusual to find an American who understood French, the language of diplomacy and culture; German, the language of science; or Italian, the language of opera. But Japanese was more or less restricted to first- or second-generation immigrants, and those who had learned it for war purposes. Yes, a very brutal and bloody war had ended not two decades before, and many Americans still thought of Japanese as enemies. And Americans were largely ignorant of Japanese culture. The song was entitled “Sukiyaki” for Anglophone release; it had nothing to do with that dish, but the producers sought something recognizable and Japanese.
In this unpromising situation, “I Look Up as I Walk” (to give the proper title) became immensely popular. It could not have been because of the lyrics. It must have been something in the music. We can’t go farther than that, since we are even less qualified to comment on music than on other forms of art. But you can come to your own conclusions. Nowadays you don’t need to buy the record, or even wait for it come around on the radio; you can stream it immediately. What does the song say to you?
