4 iconic Japanese New Wave bands that shaped the sound of the 1980s

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Starting from the 1970s and ’80s, there emerged an exhilarating form of music characterized by a blend of catchy pop tunes, sharp guitar riffs, touches of punk, avant-garde aesthetics, and electronic textures produced by synthesizers and drum machines.

This style represented the fusion of traditional elements with the contemporary influence of technology.

Notably, Western music powerhouses span from Talking Heads and Blondie to Tears for Fears, Depeche Mode, and the Eurythmics. However, it’s important to note that this doesn’t mean the genre reached a dead end in the East.

During that same timeframe in Japan’s music industry, there was an exciting mosaic of exploration and creativity. This was vastly different from the Edo Period’s country-wide seclusion policy, as Western records started to make their way into Japanese culture, shaping and evolving existing trends.

1980s Japanese New Wave bands that should not be overlooked

Despite linguistic barriers, scarcity, and limited promotion, most of Japan’s new wave content remains shrouded in mystery. Thus, shedding some light on this topic can help bring some forgotten yet brilliant bands from that era to light. Let’s delve into it! (Ikimashou!)

The Plastics 

The Plastics weren’t simply imitating new wave styles; they were a Japanese counterpart, and at times, surpassed it with their distinctive viewpoint and infectiously appealing melodies. Notably, the keyboardist Masahide Sakuma was involved in creating the influential drum machine, the Roland TR-808, which became a signature sound for numerous bands like Run-DMC, Beastie Boys, and New Order.

By 1976, Talking Heads had already been actively performing for a year, while Kraftwerk had been around for six years. Despite their relatively short tenure, bandmates Toshio Nakanishi and Chica Sato were keenly observant of the international music scene.

Many tales and legends are shared. One of them tells of David Bowie traveling to Japan where he encouraged a budding band to focus on composing their music.

As a devoted admirer, I can’t help but marvel at the incredible tale of Hajime Tachibana, not just the band’s guitarist, but also their graphic designer responsible for tour programs for Talking Heads. In a serendipitous twist, he somehow managed to pass along The Plastics’ demo tape to David Byrne. Fascinatingly, Byrne then forwarded it to the B-52s, who, after careful consideration, ultimately decided to sign them. This seemingly small act led to an unprecedented chapter in music history.

The first album from the band Plastic, titled “Welcome Plastics“, was launched on Victor Music and is a lively throwback to the bubble era, fitting nicely alongside albums like Talking Heads’ ’77 and The B-52s’ self-titled release. Its distinctive boy-girl interplay and humorous commentary make it stand out. This album serves as a unique reflection of the times in Japan, with songs such as “Digital Watch,” “Too Much Information,” and “Robot” offering insightful yet playful critiques of societal shifts happening at breakneck speed.

It’s worth mentioning that all of their songs are written in katakana, a method for representing foreign words in Japanese text. Is this a strategy to align with the foreign genre they excel in, or perhaps an attempt to gain international recognition?

Although the sophomore and more mature album titled “Origato” opened doors for them with a nationwide tour across America, their 1981 third release, “Welcome Back”, which was essentially a collection of their greatest hits, marked a significant turning point in their career and signified the wane of their influential band. Yet, it did not diminish their enduring legacy.

Yellow Magic Orchestra (YMO)

Prior to the rise of the new wave, musicians in Japan during the 1970s were challenging the status quo by transitioning from the traditional and often sentimental sound of enka, to a more Western-influenced style called kayōkyoku. One of these pioneering bands, Happy End, was leading this musical revolution.

It wasn’t until Haruomi Hosono abandoned his acoustic guitar in 1978 that the pioneering new wave group Yellow Magic Orchestra emerged. Alongside Yukihiro Takahashi and Ryuichi Sakamoto, they significantly promoted the synthesizer as a mainstream instrument and made synth-pop a respected music genre.

In their time with the group, Yellow Magic Orchestra generated an abundance of work that ranged from catchy, funky dance tracks devoid of lyrics to humorous spoken-word satires targeting the corporate sector, along with robotic renditions of classic Beatles songs.

In a fresh and authentic manner, their first album, titled “Yellow Magic Orchestra”, embodies a joyful Asian aesthetic through the use of pentatonic scale variations. It also highlights Japan’s technological transformation, most notably with the inclusion of themes from two classic arcade games, such as the theme from 1977’s Circus and the iconic Space Invaders from 1978.

As time went by, the music of Solid State Survivor started to open up more. The vocals were hidden behind effects, much like The Talking Heads’ Fear of Music. However, it was in Multiplies that the group truly discovered their unique sound and style.

Instead of mere “bleep-bloops,” you’ll now find well-developed songs incorporating instruments and vocals, which even more profoundly echo the impact of Talking Heads. Furthermore, their amusing skits titled “Snake Man Show” provide a pleasant interlude and showcase their comedic skills.

1981 marked the debut of two albums from YMO: the more serious and technologically advanced “BGM” contrasting with the sample-rich, industrial “Technodelic.” By 1983, their sound had evolved significantly, transforming from avant-garde into catchier, danceable tracks with appealing vocals as heard on “Naughty Boys,” while “Service” took on a poppier feel that leaned towards Bowie-esque tunes like “Shadows on the Ground.

Ultimately, following a ten-year break, the band came together once more to produce the album “Technodon” in 1993. In this new era, the revitalized YMO adopted the rhythm of the nineties with their use of acid-house rhythms, trip-hop influences, and an abundance of samples.

After a ten-year pause, the band reunited in 1993 to create “Technodon.” In this updated phase, the refreshed YMO took on the vibe of the nineties by incorporating acid-house beats, trip-hop elements, and an array of samples.

Chakra

At the opposite extreme on the musical scale lies a band who excel (and continue to) in blending genres. Established by guitarist Aya Itakura and a vocalist similar to early Björk, Mishio Ogawa, in 1978, Chakra was an intriguing blend of synthesizer-dominated new wave, combined with progressive rock, and traditional Japanese and Okinawan folk tunes. This might sound like a jarring combination, but it couldn’t be more different.

In 1980, their self-titled album titled Chakra was released, heavily influenced by Eastern elements. Some aspects of this influence, like the font and the band’s wardrobe on the cover, were quite noticeable. However, they skillfully avoided sounding too much like enka music. Each track offers a unique, otherworldly experience, with Itakura’s guitar work and Ogawa’s ethereal vocals taking them to new heights. In particular, Ogawa’s voice seems to embody the essence of the band.

Occasionally, her melodious voice positions her as the eccentric healer of a coastal town (translated as “Seeds of Fortune”, “Daughter of the Island”, or “AI Am Sorority”), the solitary bar girl (“Akogare”), and the bubblegum techno-pop queen (“Friend from the Sky”). The standout track is the expansive eight minutes and 22 seconds long “Tokyo Sweet”: a homage to the bustling capital city, filled with as many twists and turns as a dragon’s tail.

If Chakra served as the initial greeting, Satekoso from the 1980s could be compared to a heartfelt hug. As for Hosono Haruomi (from YMO), he played the role of the producer, not just bringing about a new sound but also establishing their connection with new wave music through “Free”. Unlike Ogawa’s vocals being the primary focus before, they now blend harmoniously with the band’s sophisticated songwriting and catchy hooks.

It doesn’t mean the band is simpler to define, as they continue to be unpredictable with their diverse range of songs. For instance, they have a song using cat-like sounds (“Myun Myun”), another with an overly lengthy title about death (“Korekara Shindeyuku Subete No Seimeitai Ni Sasageru Ute”), and one that mimics fake Chinese opera (“Itohoni”). So, Chakra remains a band full of surprises.

The standout feature might be the excellent quality of the production – every track has a strong rhythm from the bass and percussion, creating an ideal setting for both Itakura and Ogawa to shine.

Additionally, the experimental and effect-oriented background of Hosono is evident in “III” and “Hohoemu,” which gives the journey portrayed in “Satekoso” a touch more excitement and professionalism compared to its earlier counterpart.

In 1983, Chakra’s last album, “Praise in the South Seas” (南洋でヨイショ), is a delightful blend of all the instruments and styles that the band had at their disposal, featuring sudden changes (ペリカン), tribal rhythms (“私と百貨店”), and Ogawa’s signature crooning. To fully enjoy this journey, it’s best to start from the beginning of Chakra’s discography and travel all the way through to “Praise in the South Seas.

ヒカシュー (Hikashu)

Labeling Hikashu as merely a “band” doesn’t do justice to their complex nature. A more accurate description would be that they are an enduring art project, a collective of performers, a dadaist sound exploration, and remarkably, one of the most musically captivating groups to arise from Japan’s new wave movement in the late ’70s and early ’80s. Founded in 1978 with the enigmatic Makigami Koichi at the helm (comparable to Iggy Pop, yet infused with Noh theater influences), Hikashu never focused on adhering to specific genres but rather, they were dedicated to exploring and redefining.

Regardless of whether they’re singing jazz ballads, creating synth-punk, or employing an unknown language through throat-singing, the band Hikashu remains a sonic Rorschach inkblot that consistently challenges assumptions.

The band’s first album, titled Hikashu (1978), marked their entrance with an unconventional sound: a dynamic mix of minimal synthesizer, new wave punk, and avant-garde performance art. The notable song “At the End of the 20th Century” (“20世紀の終りに”) echoes a post-apocalyptic cabaret tune, whereas “Model” (“モデル”) distorts Kraftwerk’s remarkable precision through an absurd funhouse lens.

Currently, Makigami’s vocal acrobatics – ranging from high-pitched yelps to deep throaty chants – set him apart as one of the most unique lead singers across the whole technopop epoch.

The second album of theirs, titled “Uwasa no Jinrui” (1981), is often considered their most approachable piece (though the term “accessible” may not be quite fitting). This album was polished with a sleeker new wave style, and songs such as “Pike” and “Liar” toy with synthpop norms before veering unexpectedly into glitchy interludes and dry spoken word segments.

In this performance, the band seems more compact, lively, and yet precariously balanced on the brink of dramatic breakdown. Makigami’s vocal delivery, powerfully armed, ricochets off each track as if it were a rubber ball.

As the year 1984 rolls around, the band’s sound becomes increasingly experimental, veering towards avant-pop eccentricity. You can almost sense hints of jazz fusion, world music, and musique concrète percolating to the forefront. “Parisienne la Vache” seems to be a lost track from an out-of-this-world production of Hair. On the other hand, “Natsu” (“Summer”) is pure ethereal elegance from another world – it’s all about intricate electronics and abstract yearning, as if it were a poem whispered in a dream.

Although listening to Hikashu’s ’80s albums is crucial for fans of Japanese new wave music, what truly distinguishes them is their unwavering commitment. Unlike many bands from the same era, they didn’t slow down; instead, they continued creating music. Their output after 2000 explores diverse genres such as experimental jazz, folk, and traditional gagaku, all infused with Makigami’s whimsical avant-garde style.

Albums such as “Ten Ten” (2006) and “Anguri” (2010) are not mere throwbacks to the past – they serve as vibrant evidence that Hikashu continues to evolve, remaining a band that defies categorization. They exhibit a unique blend of prophetic and absurd qualities, making them one of the most intriguing and thought-provoking journeys through Japan’s underbelly of music.

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2025-04-25 13:01