“Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino”

Coupled with “Teenage Solution” and “Beat No Wakusei”

Release date: December 8, 2021

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura,  Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki   Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Morning Musume hardly play coy of their intent behind "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino." It's all openly displayed in the title, a pouty request to be petted on the head (yoshi yoshi), which the idols spin into a nagging central refrain as well as a point move in the choreography. But they also remain too true to their character for their own good, unable to fully commit to their attemped act of vanity. Before they can completely indulge in the chorus, they quickly put back on a cool, unaffected face in order to maintain the emotionally stoic personality established at least since the beginning of the Numeral era.

The stubbornness in "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino" calls to my mind songs from their sister groups. I'm thinking in particular of Juice=Juice's single "'Hitoride Ikiraresou'-tte Sorettenee, Hometeiruno?," where their reputation of being seemingly self-sufficient turns into a crutch. Not as overtly referential to the tough and cool as the electric guitar licks of Juice=Juice's record, but the airtight electro-pop production of "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino" communicates a similar steeliness that spares no room for humor: besides the titular hook and the sentimental shojo refrain, the Tsunku-isms here are conservative, with it relegated to syntax than any singular turns of phrase.

That said, the idols lets in on a sneak peek at a rather dark reason behind their obsession to keep up this facade of perfection. "My smile is my self-defense," they sing in the second verse, and they reiterate on and on about how practically every bit of their professional behavior is their defense mechanism against being perceived, yes, as Tsunku decides to put it, a sentimental shojo -- a too-sensitive girl who doesn't have her shit together. The sheer repetition telegraphs how exhausting an act it is, but their resigned sigh through it all sounds even more heartbreaking with the assumption being they've long given up on anyone hearing them out.

Morning Musume is a prisoner of their own doing in "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino." Their reputation as a perfection-obsessed idol group validates the narrative within. But to confuse their lack of displaying of emotion as them being entirely indifferent to emotion would be just feeding into a self-fulfilling cycle. Coincidentally, "Yoshi Yoshi Shitehoshiino" is among the first singles with their accompanying music videos being absent of closed captions of its lyrics and its English translations -- one has to read between the lines even closer to see how the idols really feel. And it's cruel how the steeliness of the production but also the idols' performance scrubs any hint of their true insecurity from rising to the surface.

[7]

“Teenage Solution”

Coupled with “Yoshiyoshishitehoshino” and “Beat No Wakusei”

Release date: December 8, 2021

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura,  Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki   Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Arriving about a year after “Love Pedia,” “Teenage Solution” complicates the well established personality of Morning Musume’s 15th generation. If the music video to the former song reflected any bit of their on-screen character, the three’s bubbly, almost painfully wholesome personality really showed through: this is a trio whose youngest member urges that you refer to pandas with an honorific while the second youngest has made yakiniku her entire personality. But instead of cutesy synths, a melodramatic string arrangement opens “Teenage Solution” like rolling thunder. The three are the first voices you hear, coming off stern and emotionally closed off: “I won’t let anyone notice it / my cooled emotions.”

True to the song’s title, the three now seem to enter their rebel phase of their young lives. They can’t seem to feel satisfied no matter what they do nor can they figure out what exactly they need. The pre-chorus in particular sees the idols constantly trying to find their footing on the melody, syncing with the idols’ own discomfort in their own heads. The lines run on like they don’t know where to pause and punctuate as they get involved in a restless mental push and pull: “Like I did last year, I want to spend the night at a friend’s house (I want to) / but if I did, this part, right here, gets angry, saying / ‘muu, it’s not supposed to be like that.’” Suddenly, everything has changed from their body, their relationships, to their life perspectives.

The parenthetical in those particular lyrics are uttered by the 15th generation in a deadpan voice. Their stern one-liners culminate in the bridge as their inner monologues crowd the track before they close out with a mic drop of a script: “It’s just that there are times. without even thinking about it, when I get really annoyed -- of myself.” Of course, the rest of Morning Musume also sings in “Teenage Solution,” and yet the song positions more focus on the 15th generation as its main protagonist through its structure, if not its theme. “Teenage solution / no one can solve it / ah, even if you’re older than me / you can’t just yet / even with your love,” they sing, putting up a wall as teenagers do, and it’s not difficult to fit the senior-junior dynamic into this scene.

The unsettling, hard-to-soothe personality also informs the music of “Teenage Solution” for better or worse. The song offers hardly any release as the emotional tension tightens without rest. As mentioned, the pre-chorus is difficult to grasp with its lack of immediate hooks and an elusive melody that its singers seem to trip up on; the chorus ultimately doesn’t provide much of a resolve after the idols raise the anxiety levels more and more in the pre-chorus. The music starts to feel secondary as an aid to the unfolding narrative, giving little point of entry for the uninitiated.

“Teenage Solution” better intrigues as a character study than a song proper. Even in the context of the group as a whole beyond just the 15th generation, it’s not so typical to hear Morning Musume sound so full of inner angst. The idols seemed in tune with their emotions for a while since the Numeral era kicked off, embracing even their negative facets as opportunities rather than flaws. But here, they not only struggle to articulate the feeling but they also fail to find the root. If the music sounds restless and oblique, it’s arguably only reflective of the head space of the idols themselves.

[5]

“Beat No Wakusei”

Release date: December 8, 2021

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki  Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Morning Musume ‘21 members teased “Beat No Wakusei” as a throwback before its release, specifically as a song carrying the vibes of “Utakata Saturday Night!” Can’t say they were wrong. Arranged by Erik Libdom, the production bears a lush disco sound that plays out more straightforward in style than the EDM flourishes of their past few singles. And like “Utakata Saturday Night!,” the “dance the night away” attitudes signature to disco are also made explicit from the title on: In “The Planet of Beats,” which the idol group calls its anthem, the members search the whole galaxy for a reprieve in the form of the perfect beat.

If Morning Musume are nursing a wound in “Beat No Wakusei,” the idols do a good job of sweeping it under the rug. They preface the song with how things aren’t going so well for them, though it reads more like general scene-setting to allow the rest of the song to commence. The bubbliness of the disco beat quickly solves any bitterness rising from the verses, and Ameko Kodama crafts even those brief words about failures into fun pop: I’m not really sure if there’s another pop song out there that strings together the mnemonic for the planets into pure joy.

The chorus fully indulges in the positivity-first attitude, and it not so subtly positions the song’s jolliness as a product of design. “Let’s dance heartbeat dance,” the idols sing while doing some finger-pointing moves partly engineered to go viral on TikTok. The lyrics are admittedly not so inventive or artful, and the choreography doesn’t help matters either. Though, this is also disco, a genre more welcoming of cliches and workmanlike lyrics in so far as it contributes to the intended function to get people dancing.

That said, Morning Musume don’t let the bubbliness of the music scrub away their personality entirely. They hang up talks about work ethic for one night, though they still ensure their professionalism remains intact: “Hating on somebody doesn’t make me happy or strong,” they sing, opting instead to embrace love as they feel the beat. And the disco ends up helping to soften their sometimes-stubborn mind as they settle on a temporary answer to their problems: “Life, it’s everyone’s first time / We can just make up the meaning of it,” they suggest without lingering too long on the subject as if to not allow any second guessing. Don’t think too much, the idols seem to promote in “Beat No Wakusei.” And you don’t have to think so hard.

It feels like a minute since we saw Morning Musume cutting loose and wearing such joyous smiles as they do here. Sure, there was “Love Pedia” a couple years back that introduced the then-new 15th generation girls and their freshness. But when it comes to pop silliness in a disco package – a vibe they were known for during the Golden era – there hasn’t been a single like it arguably since 2017 with a record like “Jealousy Jealousy.” Especially as it’s slotted alongside more serious-minded tracks in the triple A-side single, “Beat No Wakusei” provides a refreshing break in both sound and mood.

[7]

“Renai Destiny ~Honne Wo Ronjitai~”

Released: March 31, 2021

Featured in: 16th ~That’s J-pop~

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda 

An exciting selection in recent Morning Musume live sets has been the inclusion of “Koko Ni Iruze!” Though it was released during the Golden era, still the group’s most widely celebrated period by the public at large, more titles from that time rank higher in popularity, so the decision to feature it in their festival sets reads like a salvaging of an old favorite. It even seems purposeful as they slot it as the show closer. The gesture especially left a mark on me at last year’s Hina Fes during the first weeks of worldwide quarantine, the group’s lyrics “spread the wings of love / I’m here, I’ll scream it right here right now” echoing as they exit the stage. 

I wonder if “Koko Ni Iruze!” was on the mind of Tsunku when he was writing “Renai Destiny ~Honne Wo Ronjitai~.” He has shared that the music in the group’s new album 16th ~That’s J-Pop~ was ready even before their Rock’in Japan 2019 set, where I first saw that they brought the Golden era single back into their repertoire. But that rock swing calls to mind “Koko Ni Iruze!” and nostalgia punches through even harder as it arrives after an intense synth intro. The song teases yet another EDM cut in the vein of their output from their last few years only to reveal an entirely different track that harkens back to another period.

The tone of their lyrics, too, reflect more of the optimistic attitude heard in the Golden era. “Don’t give up / it’s still a bit too early / look, they even look like / they want to give up / now’s the time to get over this hump / the chance to step outside the lines,” they sing. They cheerfully advise as though we have nothing to lose by trying, and they go on as if admitting defeat is a ridiculous idea especially with so much potential still left unfulfilled. Morning Musume only see possibility and the room to do better.

The group’s outlook remains bright enough in “Renai Destiny” for them to deliver their more conflicting moments with the same inspiring aura. Even when they sing about an overwhelming clash of emotions, it reads like a necessary step to become the better version of themselves. “This sorrow / this passion overflowing from my heart / or this feeling of doubt / can I rise above it?” They wonder, but it’s immediately followed by powerful clarity delivered in the chorus, bursting with blinding synths and thrashing drum beats. Their lack of understanding ends up being the very key to realizing the mission stated in the subtitle: “I want to debate what’s true.”

All that said, “Renai Destiny” is not so much a revival of the past than it is an update of ideas by building off of the highs of different eras. The early Numeral era, particularly “Oh My Wish!” and its desire to improve, is equally represented in the song as much as “Koko Ni Iruze!” By shedding the shadows of doubt looming in the former and straightening the posture of the latter, you can argue it has become the best of worlds. The center of this Venn diagram is where you can find one of the most memorable lyric of the track: “zenbu yattarou / zenbu yattare,” or “watch me do everything / I’ll do everything.” They drop their formalism to reveal a truer language, like this is for real now. Morning Musume is ready to tackle the unknown in “Renai Destiny,” and they sound invincible as they face the challenges.

[8]

Morning Musume ‘20

Another year with Morning Musume closes, and the group has brought us five new songs throughout the 12 months. These releases are also the first singles with the new 15th generation, who I am really excited to see what they are capable of. Here is what we covered:

“Gyuu Saretaidakenanoni”

Coupled with “Junjou Evidence”

Release date: December 16, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: TBD

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki  Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

If its other half, “Junjou Evidence,” remained a bit lyrically coy on what it tried to get across -- for one, what exactly is the “evidence of innocence” anyway? -- “Gyuu Saretaidakenanoni” is so obvious about its feelings that it would be simply foolish to call any attempt to grab attention here a hint. But Morning Musume’s eye candy here is unfortunately dull enough to not recognize the idols’ gestures even if they hit him on the head. The idols, meanwhile, sound rightfully frustrated.

“Gyuu” begins by making a lyrical callback to a Morning Musume ‘17 album cut, “Watashi No Nannimo Wakacchanai,” almost literally. Like they do in the 15 Thank You, Too song, the idols harp on the song’s main point -- “nanmo wakattenaijanai,” or “you just don’t understand anything” -- repeatedly like they’re putting him in the hot seat. It pairs with the also-repetitive nature of the EDM beat with each run of the throbbing loop onsetting a bigger ounce of guilt, or so seems their strategy. They conclude their guilt-tripping session by emphasizing how neglected they’ve been, and no other lyrics get seared deeper into memory than “usagi-chan syndrome.”

That instantly-viral “bunny syndrome” lyric aside, the contents so far read woefully serious. The chorus sings about regaining control, and sung over a familiar EDM backdrop, it can remind of another “taking the hand of the wheel” song like “Help Me!!” (Funny how that single, too, squeezes in Tsunku-isms before a chorus about taking back glory.) But “Gyuu” doesn’t aspire to speak on any greater ambition other than relieving their own desire for attention. Morning Musume don’t provide much base in the song for it to become some deeper metaphor. It’s all in the title: “I just want you to hold me tight.” Nothing more. 

The EDM music carves out a space for Morning Musume to not care for guile or profundity, and it allows for a self-centered persona to come to the forefront. Kaoru Ookubo’s arrangements sound slightly more garish than Shoichiro Hirata’s for “Junjou Evidence.” The loud club synths surely recall the first wave of EDM that peaked during the Colorful Era, but the booming buzzsaw bass line also reminds me of brash-in-retrospect third-wave K-pop that took influence from post-crunk R&B as well as Timbaland and Danja. The datedness brings out some kitsch into the song’s personality, setting up an appropriate place for the idols to fill with shameless playfulness and boasting.

The brashness also helps solve some of Morning Musume’s more aggressive antics as if the loud music is there to distract from the bluntness of the lyrics. The way Morning Musume are drunk on their own desires recall “Shabondama,” particularly in the chorus when they let slip this thinly veiled threat: “do you want me to cry in the middle of this street?” But unlike Rika Ishikawa in that old single, it’s hard to detect any spike in emotion from them; they instead resemble the composed manner of any of their other post-Colorful songs. What I took away from “Gyuu” initially was how frustratingly oblivious the other person was in not getting the hint. But read a bit closer, and it’s clear Morning Musume are not such an easy group to answer to. 

[7]

“Junjou Evidence”

Coupled with “Gyuu Saretaidakenanoni”

Release date: December 16, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: TBD

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

Edgy choreography and dynamic drone shots aren’t perhaps enough to cover up the relatively conservative music of “Junjou Evidence.” The EDM programming comes from arranger Shoichiro Hirada, whose squealing synths echo the just-released “Love Pedia” as well as other dance-centric singles like “Renai Hunter” and “Are You Happy?” Some choices also recall the Colorful era, like the glitching vocal processing and especially the ad-libbing of “oh no baby” in the verses as though it’s willfully reenacting “Tiki Bun.”

However, while the music by itself can point to Morning Musume’s stubbornness to consistency, “Junjou Evidence” heads into a slightly different lane than terrains often covered by past Numeral-era works on the lyrical front. The schemes and come-ons of “Junjou Evidence” may not feel too drastic of a move after a trio of songs from earlier this year that also explore love and bridging a connection at some capacity. The familiar-feeling beats probably don’t help draw out much novelty from it either. But the group had spent more than a half-decade singing about an altruistic lifestyle and the stresses from trying to live up to such an idealistic life without much fun and romance in between. A more self-indulgent song after a series of meditations of such serious topics seems like a flip of a switch.

The big themes and grand statements still live on in “Junjou Evidence,” though they tend to justify rather self-centered ends. “It’s no point of talking about a dream,” the idols sing; “your glory is a thing of the past / it doesn’t apply to you in the future,” they continue in the pre-chorus. These bold declarations about actions over words read like noble advice, more so when the idols sing those lyrics with their usual stoic demeanor. Yet they all lead to a chorus that’s more vain than what those lyrics suggest. The narrowing to a shallower detail feels like the opposite of “Oh My Wish,” where the fear to make a move works up to a greater messaging of words of ambition.  

The self-centered voice defines “Junjou Evidence” apart from the group’s recent works, and all that said, it’s a welcome change in tone after sticking to an earnest mode. They’re fully aware of how forthcoming they sound: “you can examine that / I’m cocky, aren’t I,” they sing in the chorus, just waiting for the other person to get a full look at who they’ve become. However obvious and cliche his chosen key phrases -- hiding acne, the titular “evidence of innocence” -- Tsunku leave some of what they’re trying to project to the imagination. What’s definitely clear is that Morning Musume want to show off a more grown, adult, confident self. From the dynamic feel of the music to their flaunting gestures, “Junjou Evidence” sells what the group intends to achieve.

[6]

“Tokyo Bijin”

Released: Aug. 28, 2002

Featured in: Dainisho ~Tsuyogari~

Member: Yuko Nakazawa

While Yuko Nakazawa’s first single since graduating Morning Musume had her indulge in a moody side, she quickly softens her personality in the breezy follow-up, “Tokyo Bijin.” Returning as her arranger, Yuichi Takahashi pivots sharply from what he brought to the oriental “Shanghai No Kaze” to a lighter sound indebted to classic ‘60s pop. It sounds close to “Dokki Doki Love Mail,” the debut song of Aya Matsuura, another Hello! Project act whose popularity was skyrocketing in 2002. 

“Tokyo Bijin” shares a sound as well as theme with “Dokki Doki Love Mail,” both written by none other than Tsunku. Nakazawa sings about a classic J-pop tale of a person who’s transitioning to a life in the big city. She has sung about a similar predicament before in “Furusato” with her former group Morning Musume. The woes attached to that prior single, however, are presumed to belong to a group of young women who just moved to Tokyo. Many of the members at the time, including Nakazawa, are from outside prefectures, and their call-out to their mothers in the single hits emotional considering that they were everyday women just a couple years prior.

“Tokyo Bijin,” meanwhile, was released five years after the debut of Morning Musume, so Nakazawa has put in some time trying to get used to the big city. And indeed, “Tokyo Bijin” carries with it a different perspective than a transition song like “Dokki Doki Love Mail,” where a teenage Matsuura is new to town, reporting on the new stores and sights she just discovered. A lyric like “The city is lonely / so you were telling me / I understood that for the first time” in isolation might fit in “Furusato.” But the surrounding context adds on years more in experience, placing that isolation not as this new feeling she’s just grappling with.

Nakazawa’s misery doesn’t seem so obvious upon first listen from the lightness of the music and the easy-going feel of the melodies. She also carries heartbreak from separation, and the nostalgia doubles in pain reminding her of home as well as a past relationship. “When I go out shopping / I’m always reminded of / the things you like,” she sings, and immediately after, she recounts renting a video as a cheer-up only to be driven by tears. It’s mostly the mundane things that take stock in this song, landing not as a huge blow but a light thud. But it’s also those small, trivial things that end up bringing back memories better left suppressed. 

“I’m so close to becoming Tokyo busu,” goes the chorus. “I stay up all night and keep dreaming with my girl friends.” Translating roughly to Tokyo-ugly, Tokyo busu is the work of classic Tsunku. The made-up word offers critique of city-dwellers from the perspective of an outsider, especially about those who themselves come from elsewhere: from hearing Nakazawa sing this song, city life sounds like a vapid lifestyle and letting the city change you sounds like a sin. It also adds irony in the titular phrase, which translates to “Tokyo beauty,” wearing out the glamor in living in Tokyo.

While “Tokyo Bijin” sounds like a content portrait of city-living at first glance, Nakazawa doesn’t sound entirely enthusiastic. Her sighs sound melancholy brushing against such sunny music as though she herself thinks she should be embracing a happier life more suiting for the tune. The chorus in the end hits the most bittersweet. “Tokyo beauty / Cheers to a girl’s future,” she sings perhaps with slight sarcasm. “I feel like I’m now an adult.” Growing up and growing used to the city don’t sound exactly like an accomplishment from the sound of Nakazawa’s voice and instead just something one has to accept eventually.

[7]

“Megami ~Mousse Na Yasashisa~”

Release date: December 18, 2002

Featured in: Pucchi Best 3; No. 5

Members: Hitomi Yoshizawa, Kaori Iida, Maki Goto, Mari Yaguchi

Morning Musume were the poster girls for a myriad of product tie-ins by 2003. The group began to lend their rising popularity as pop stars to shill tea, cameras, aircon coolers -- you name it. Their work with snack company Glico mainly for Pocky -- those skinny biscuit sticks with flavored dip like chocolate and strawberry -- in particular produced new music by a subunit formed just for the ad promo. As the counterpart to the bubbly Pocky Girls, they put together Hitomi Yoshizawa, Kaori Iida, Maki Goto and Mari Yaguchi for the quartet Venus Mousse to go with the other mousse-dipped line of the same name. 

“Luxury called decoration mousse,” goes a tagline for this line of Pocky. And indeed, the available flavors are more exquisite than the typical chocolate and strawberry -- perhaps the two most visible Pocky choices -- with chocolate cookies dipped into dark chocolate or latte. The introduction of more bitter flavors here suggests a more adult alternative, and the commercial depicts the four idols in a more grown, blacked-out cool to reflect not only the product but the type of consumer base for the cookie.

What reinforces this image the most is the music. Originally recorded exclusively for the tie-in, “Megami ~Mousse Na Yasashisa~” is propped by a blissful R&B sound that sets this grand, adult mood. The dive into then-contemporary R&B also recalls the Morning Musume subunit Tanpopo that also provided an alternative, more grown look into the group’s members. It helps that Tanpopo members Iida and Yaguchi were chosen for this subunit while Goto was already carving out a name for herself with a similar sound for her solo works.

Their grasp of the genre plays important to seamlessly perform their necessary task of introducing the product without it becoming at all like a jingle. Despite the hook explicitly mentioning “soft like mousse,” practically reading the key selling point of the cookie straight out of the copy, “Megami” otherwise proceeds as yet another professional foray into R&B just as they did before like, say, recently with the single “Do It! Now.” They smoothly slip into the genre without giving off much of an impression that the adult personality is a product of commercial reverse-engineering but instead simply a product of its sound and style.

“Megami” eventually made it into Morning Musume’s fifth album, No. 5, along with their Pocky Girls counterpart. Before its inclusion in the album, fans were able to win a limited-edition single CD with the two subunit songs on it if they submitted a code written on the Pocky box and entered it to the campaign site. But all that context as a commercial tie-in doesn’t feel obvious as it exists purely on the track listing of the full-length. Other than the “soft like mousse” lyric reading quirky, “Megami” hardly gives away its origin story, and the overall natural feel speaks to Morning Musume’s grasp of the R&B genre.

[7]

“Give Me Love”

Release date: Oct. 12, 2011

Featured in: 12, Smart

Members: Ai Takahashi, Aika Mitsui, Erina Ikuta, Kanon Suzuki, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Tanaka, Riho Sayashi, Risa Niigaki, Sayumi Michishige

Morning Musume must have known change was on the way by the time they released 12, Smart in 2012. It’s unlikely that they knew just how much, that an entire new era would begin from their next record, 13 Colorful Character, but the departure of Ai Takahashi after a decade with the group had to have signaled an end of a certain time. “Give Me Love,” then, sets a bittersweet atmosphere in retrospect as it opens Takahashi’s last album as a Morning Musume, carrying the same defining sound of the previous Platinum era she helped usher in.

While the lead single “Only You” hinted at the switch into EDM to come, “Give Me Love” indulges in the dramatic string sweeps and synths hits found from the group’s singles during the late ‘00s like “Shoganai Yume Oibito.” Adding on to the melodrama are the pack of back vocals which respond to the main singer singing about her woes, sometimes finishing the sentences of the latter. The call-and-response plays out well live as her group mates follow her around as she pensively strolls around.

Despite the over-the-top flourishes, the monologue unfolding in “Give Me Love” is rather level-headed at least in comparison to how the train of thought in previous releases like “Naichaukamo” can go. The idols second-guess themselves upon the gestures of an almost-too-perfect man: “hey, the future / how will it be? / falling in love / with a person like this / I thought it would be way later,” they confess in a later chorus. The music adds the gravity of the stakes if they potentially mess this up, and their worry intensifies as they restlessly ponder upon behaviors to the point of overkill: “Do you love me? / You keep asking so I become unsure,” they sing. Yet, the lack of overwrought gestures to test out their love makes “Give Me Love” a more reasoned pep talk.

Knowing now of the transformation they will take, slotting “Only You” right after “Give Me Love” in 12, Smart offers a contrast to what differentiates the Platinum from the Colorful era. There are the voices, sure, as well as the tone and production choices, but “Give Me Love” is also more self-indulgent with the focus narrowly put on the individual. The personal is still given shine in later works, but it’s projected a lot more outward hence making it easier to expand to fit and speak for a more general audience. I think of the “dear my lovely you / here’s a yell for you” hook in “Only You” that can be claimed by anybody as if they were words addressed to them whereas “Give Me Love” sympathizes with people with a more specific back history.

“This love / that I dreamed about / I’m scared about / losing it,” sings the just-joined Riho Sayashi with the help of her group to finish her lyrics. Her parts hit poignant watching the live performances with her following Reina Tanaka and a follow-up from Risa Niigaki, who both occupied the senior class at the time. The sound and narrative of “Give Me Love” makes the song emblematic of a generation at its last days, but it also already gave a chance to the young voices that would define what would come after.

[7]

“Narcis Kamatte-chan Kyousoukyoku Dai5ban”

Release date: March 8, 2017

Featured in: 15 Thank You, Too

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Erina Ikuta, Haruka Kudo, Haruna Iikubo,  Haruna Ogata, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Sakura Oda

The very character of Morning Musume as idols often feed into the music and elevates its lyrical content. For a lot of the songs, especially from the Colorful era and on, the group’s work ethic affirms the message of self-progress from how they lead by example. “Narcis Kamatte-chan Kyousoukyoku Dai5ban,” however, is a rare one where the lyrics aggressively go against their altruism. Kamatte-chan describes a person who’s constantly in need of attention, and the redundancy of attaching “narcissistic” in front of it should write home how desperate they sound. Yet the album track succeeds precisely because Morning Musume sings it. 

“I’m not cute/ somehow I don’t feel cute,” Morning Musume begin the song. Right from the start, it’s hard not to question how odd it sounds hearing the verse sung by the idols, who’s shining up on stage or on the other side of the TV screen. Even when they then take a deeper look inward -- “even though I am cute, I get timid inside” -- the track hints at insecurity from a group who carries a reputation to be strong-willed.

The most out-of-character moment from Morning Musume arrives as the chorus comes to a close. “Look at me more,” an idol suddenly says in a deadpan tone as if they want to stop the song and step into the forefront so the audience can give all the undivided attention she seeks. The lyric rings with a bit of self-awareness: the jump from singing into a direct read loosely follows the Hello! Project tradition of mid-song monologues. The calculated precision gives it a creepy iciness, and the deadpan in their voice seems as though they’re held back from openly expressing their more selfish feelings, like self-obsession, vanity and a deep desperation to be wanted.

The production intensifies the chilliness through its needling synths. The pitch of the electronic sounds feel heightened as though you’re listening to it with your anxiety levels a bit more sensitive than usual. The wariness also links to the emotional vulnerability of the idols, who are endlessly observing their looks and performance to become the better version of themselves. Their voices, too, go up a register in the ad libs of the chorus to emphasize some points: aside from the key lyric of “look at me more,” they constantly wonder why in defeat as they play around with their facial expressions while looking at the mirror.

These scenes of Morning Musume nitpicking their appearance strikes more poignant when framed as moments of their personal lives as idols. Attention is the currency of the idol business after all, and their presentation plays important for them to acquire it. They consider any expression other than a smile to be less than perfect. Conversely, their grasp on this relationship as a transaction equally twists the song into a dark pop record that complicates the integrity of genuine emotion. Do they earnestly care for us, the audience, or is it all part of some grand strategy?

This vicious, complex phenomenon is no more apparent than when the song is performed live by Morning Musume. They play out the very experience outlined in “Narcis Kamatte-chan” by presenting themselves as the main performer to focus on but also the object of desire. It gains a new dimension with an actual audience, the very fans who provide them value via attention, there to take in those attempts to fish for compliments. The “look at me more” script hits deep when recited live by the idols, standing as the focal point while their eyes are locked into the crowd.

Morning Musume may sound more self-indulgent than usual but they don’t sound full of themselves in the slightest. The group sang songs about shameless vanity in the past like “Kimagure Princess” and performed a sassy show of worth like “Sukatto My Heart.” But in “Narcis Kamatte-chan,” the idols sound more self-tortured as their singles where they pick apart their obsession with pride. The synths give the self-reflection more edge yet it also teases out the dark undercurrents that the group have done so well to hide.

[9]

Long time, no see!

Howdy! It’s been a while since I’ve been active on this blog, and soon I will be preparing some posts once again because Morning Musume are releasing a new single in a month’s time -- December 16th to be exact. The title of the songs are “Jyunjou Evidence” and “Gyuu Saretai Dakenanoni.” They are now added in the blog’s master list.

I am excited to listen to what the group has in store for us. I am also excited to write about Morning Musume again for this blog. It has been a minute since the blog has been busy, so to build up hype for the new single, and so I can brush up on my writing here, I am launching a series of bonus content called Bonus Tracks where I review non-singles by Morning Musume.

For now, I will publish one Bonus Tracks post per week until the release date of “Jyunjou Evidence.” I don’t know how consistent I will be going after that, but I definitely want to add more posts to the series. If you have any suggestions on what to cover, feel free to let me know via Ask on my main Tumblr. I am accepting all songs that are not singles, including solo releases and shuffle-unit songs, as long as a Morning Musume singer is responsible for it. I’ll see you Wednesday for the first post!

The end of the road...?

At the time of this writing, I completed the post for “Ningen Kankei No Way Way,” ostensibly the last single by Morning Musume to cover for this blog. That post was queued for July 8, and I am writing this from late March, so there is still a possibility that the idol group have released a new double or triple A-side by the time this post goes up. (Edit: it is July now, and no new Morning Musume is planned as of this writing.)

Which means, this ridiculous project is actually not over. Really, it is never over until Morning Musume decide to no longer release music, and I’d rather give up my spare weekends writing new paragraphs about their music than see that happen. So yes, I plan to continue updating this blog to keep up with future singles.

For now, though, I am done. I’ve finally crossed the finish line. I spent almost exactly a year writing about every Morning Musume single, 95 of them in total. It was very fun working on this project. I learned a lot. I also adopted a deep obsession with the group, but I don’t regret it.

I entertained the idea for this blog at least about a year before I actually launched it. I was inspired by fellow writer Cassy Gress from the Singles Jukebox and their blog where they review one Super Junior song a day. I also constantly looked to deep, one-post-at-a-time dives into the charts such as Tom Ewing’s Popular, Jonathan Bogart’s Bilbo’s Laptop, and Iain Mew’s Super Chart Island as models. I wanted to take on a huge, exhaustive project like those, and I figured Morning Musume and their singles discography that stretches 20-plus years would be a good choice.

Morning Musume also ended up being a great subject because of their different eras and their member changes throughout their history. Every once in a while, it felt as though I was writing about a whole new group if not because of the music then definitely because of the new faces. The gradual stylistic changes and shifts in attitude in their music helped me stay captivated. Though I want to take on this same project but for a different J-pop artist, I worry just how long I can stay interested at least compared to how Morning Musume has kept my attention.

The existence of multiple vital eras in their history is what I understood as what makes Morning Musume such an exciting idol group to study. Many artists’ narratives have one peak era when they hit it big or earned critical attention, and their subsequent work is judged based on that work. Someone may tell you Morning Musume also has that critical period in their Golden era (1997-2003) but the perspective varies wildly depending on who you ask. A lot of fans praise the Platinum era (2007-2012) as their second coming. This blog repeatedly brought up the new attitudes defined by the Colorful era (2013-2015). For my money, my favorite and their best is Morning Musume ‘17 -- the iteration that first got me into the group -- from the way they harnessed the strengths of all their past eras while creating a new path.

Those different eras pose a big challenge to properly document Morning Musume in its entirety. Another big inspiration to this blog, One Week One Band is an amazing project to extensively discuss a musical act (and a blog that I’ve also contributed to a few times). But even a week seems too short of a time frame to pack every facet of the idol group. Maybe a week for a particular era (as OWOB has done with an act with a deep history like David Bowie) but their full chronology is too dense to wrap up in just seven days.

Of course, there’s probably a better, less demanding method than writing about every single over a course of a year. But I do have hopes that this provides a good intro to Morning Musume or maybe even J-pop for someone. Selfishly, I also wanted to provide a series of critical writing that I’ve wished to see about the group. I focused on a lot of the lyrics, maybe a bit too much relative to the discussion on the actual music, because Tsunku’s songwriting was a big influence on me wanting to write about them. His distinct approach to narrative and theme, and that singular eye to pop phrases, continues to intrigue me to no end. I wanted to provide my insight on his work as someone who Japanese is their first language. 

At the very least, this was a fun writing exercise. I looked forward to writing about every single. I want to say it made my other writing better. It also took my mind off things. I discovered so many new favorite songs, and like I mentioned in more than a few posts, they kept my spirits high when life became stressful..

Thanks for reading! Some of you who shared the posts and left feedback on them made me happy that I launched this blog. Let’s meet again when Morning Musume drops a new single for us to obsess over, hopefully very soon.

“Love Pedia”

Coupled with “Kokoro & Karada” and “Ningen Kankei No Way Way”

Release date: January 22, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

“Love Pedia” resembles the rowdy sibling to its more adult counterpart, “Ningen Kankei No Way Way,” but they are twins in many different ways. For one, it rides on the same melody, the chorus practically inducing a sharp feeling of deja vu. While the arrangements vary to give each a distinctive character from the other, they work tropes of classic Morning Musume sensibilities. The hooks, too, entertain in a fun, familiar way.

“Love Pedia” is the obnoxious one, built upon growling synths and a restless rhythm. What it lacks in opportunities to rest, the production offers a lot of room to goof around, like the talkbox-like vocal filter applied to the ad libs of the verses. It’s a fine, giddy companion to introduce the new 15th generation, who spring into action striking a fighter pose in the intro of the song’s choreography. Mei Yamazaki’s voice sticks out in particular, oblong and untreated yet full of freshman enthusiasm compared to the polished performances of the seniors.

That youthful naivete informs the lyrics as well. The titular Love-pedia immediately reminds of matters more in a fantasy realm as the idols wish for the know-hows on love. The playful music frames the whole concept as slightly tongue-in-cheek. But it also sounds quaintly hyper-modern reminiscent to the post-Y2K feel of “Koi No Dance Site.” I imagine their Love-pedia as a series of Wiki entries despite the video showing an actual book, and Ameko Kodama slyly nods to the possibilities of the lyrics resonating in a more digital context as well: “An era where we share all the time/ but all the things I want to know are private,” they moan.

More than the concept of this imaginary Love-pedia, their responses to love is colored by pure, first-time innocence. Dealing with their total lack of preparation in the face of love, the idols anxiously flip through the pages in hopes they land on the entry that holds all their answers. The change in script for the final round of the chorus gives way to my favorite moment: “I fell in love/ oh, I did,” they sing, finally accepting the spontaneous turn of events after laying eyes on someone in the subway. They don’t seem bothered by these unknown feelings and instead ready to enjoy the ride.

[6]

“Ningen Kankei No Way Way”

Coupled with “Kokoro & Karada” and “Love Pedia”

Release date: January 22, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda

“Ningen Kankei No Way Way” resembles the adult sibling to its more rowdy counterpart, “Love Pedia,” but they are twins in many different ways. For one, it rides on the same melody, the chorus practically inducing a sharp feeling of deja vu. While the arrangements vary to give each a distinctive character from the other, they work tropes of classic Morning Musume sensibilities. The hooks, too, entertain in a fun, familiar way.

“Ningen Kankei No Way Way” is the more classic one, built upon a grand funk arrangement that reminds me of the arena-made pomp of “The Matenrou Show.” The production is made properly like a musical theater number, but Morning Musume find moments to get loose and playful. They nonchalantly slide in a goofy phrase of “no way way” amidst a chorus about how they struggle to maintain social relationships with others. The choreography riffs off the catchiness by flapping their hands in sync to the beat to signal a big, fat “no.” One of them even mimics the ninja-star move of “Renai Revolution 21,” making its way into their series of meme-able dance gestures from over the years.

Despite the titular hook presenting the main concept in a fun, pop manner, Morning Musume harbor a rather serious personal issue. Their introverted personality becomes their biggest crutch preventing them from becoming who they wish to be: a person who can simply socialize well with others. And their self-awareness to their own flaws provides the conflict that fuels the song’s main drama. Each successive line nitpicks their shortcomings, and they exhaust themselves to the point they’d rather shut themselves out completely than try to do better. “I think it’s so tedious; of course I do,” they sing. “How many times do I have to be courageous to be happy/ I want someone to let me know.”

Thankfully, the funk music begins to build into an upbeat celebration as the idols seem just about ready to call it quits. The chorus returns to brighten the mood, and the “no way way” hook lightens up some of the seriousness that settled in from the verses. The dance break especially provides a nice breather; I can imagine someone like Ayumi Ishida eager to get down on the beat partly to distract herself from her troubles.

The arrangements as well as the hook also introduces this element of theater to “Ningen Kankei No Way Way.” The return to the chorus reminds that the idols’ expression of their self-critique resides more in the realm of melodrama but without entirely dismissing the gravity of their issue. It strikes a right balance between the musically fun and the emotionally serious. And if you think about it, sneaking in a genuine discussion of life under the guise of sweet dance-pop has been Morning Musume’s thing for decades.

[7]

“Kokoro & Karada”

Coupled with “Love Pedia” and “Ningen Kankei No Way Way”

Release date: January 22, 2020

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Homare Okamura, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Mei Yamazaki, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Rio Kitagawa, Sakura Oda    

Many parts of “Kokoro & Karada” feel like pure bliss. Morning Musume are so at ease around the company of their loved one that they can lay their guard down and be cared for in someone else’s warm embrace. The best musical bit of the song is the bridging section between verse and chorus, that filtered segue that gradually signals the explosive drop. Kaoru Ookubo pulls away the rolling drums from underneath, giving the illusion of the idols’ world being at a standstill. With the elegant string arrangement prettying up the scene, it’s a movie-made moment that cues love at first sight with another presence wholly capturing their attention.

And then comes the chorus. The synths drop like meteors after that period of silence while the idols shout a series of lyrics that beam as bright as, if not more massive than the cosmic music: “I love you. Yes, I love you/ I can’t stop my heart/ hopping on that cloud heading towards the future.” As if they couldn’t raise the emotional levels any higher, Masaki Sato (Sakura Oda on the second) hit an even higher note in the next half of the chorus. Their undying love towards their significant other is ready to transcend matters of the mind and body -- kokoro and karada -- at any given minute. Music seems to be the only thing that can properly express the size and scale of their devotion.

Blissful as it is, “Kokoro & Karada” also captures some anxiety. Declarations of joy follow confessions of fear, and Morning Musume also don’t write off the possibility of their feeling of security all suddenly ending. Their urgency can start to sound like a product of desperation as much as excitement. But those threats only make that meteoric chorus grow in power come the second round as they manage to free themselves from all their worries and doubt. “I love you/ Yes, I love you/ Now, no one can stop it,” they assure with their faith fully restored. Those blinding synths don’t let a bit of darkness persist.

Morning Musume never hear back despite asking for affection in return. Then again, what would even be the proper response to “Kokoro & Karada”? Like “One Two Three,” the group thinks it asks for something casual -- “then I want you to love me more/ Yes, just like how you feel” -- but the music begs for practically an act of god. But intense as the synths sound, the flowery string arrangements also give it a sense of patience and understanding. Morning Musume ultimately sound fulfilled in “Kokoro & Karada,” realizing everything they could possibly want is right in front of them.

[8]

“Seishun Night”

Coupled with “Jinsei Blues”

Release date: June 12, 2019

Oricon Weekly placement: 3rd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Sakura Oda    

“Seishun Night” boasts a melange of signatures from different Morning Musume eras in the guise of the current generation. Kaoru Ookubo peppers the production with tropes that might have also found their way in the Golden era. The Zapp & Roger-like talkbox riff gives the song a goofy, funk-derived quirk similar to the sax blasts of “Koko Ni Iruze!” But while it kicks off with a blindly optimistic chant -- “My life: enjoy!” -- that spiritually echoes the cheers of, say, “Soda! We’re Alive,” bitter details such as lonely nights and going out bringing in diminishing emotional rewards align the actual narrative of “Seishun Night” closer to the sob stories of the Platinum era.

Optimism and pessimism clash in “Seishun Night” with the idols masking their true, dark feelings under their public face as a stoic, smiling idol. Morning Musume constantly entertain the listeners in the song by throwing in fun pop hooks while repeating that “enjoy!” chant: they segue into a brief rap section after the first chorus similar to “Jealousy! Jealousy!” but for a more crowd-pleasing function, filling most of its space with yeah-yeah-yeahs. But no matter how hard they work the funk track to brighten up the mood, they ultimately don’t sound entirely self-satisfied. There are as many tired sighs as there are enthusiastic cheers.

“Seishun Night” almost too vividly reminds me of those aimless nights when I would go out because I wanted to fulfill this urge to do something and be somewhere despite maybe not being fully emotionally well to actually socialize. Because it did feel like a waste of time to just stay put when countless others were supposedly living it up. Morning Musume sum up the actual reality of how those nights usually end up: “The lonely night will begin/ But I feel like I’m waiting for the morning.” They aren’t entirely present in the present, instead hoping to check out and move on to the next as fast as possible.

The group slyly lay some of that anxiety as part of their crowd chants: “Gotta go! Gotta go! Immediately escape! Let’s run away/ from the spot on vicious cycle,” they collectively shout like a part two to their rap section. The video makes that part feel like a welcome invitation to their party, but slotted in the back as the song’s middle eight, it comes across on record as the final burst of frustration from their nights not going as planned.

While Morning Musume genuinely sound like they’re enjoying themselves shouting the various hooks, they also make having fun sound like real work. The chorus stresses about how you have to put in effort to maintain a positive attitude, that happiness is something you can’t grasp without trying. “It’s such a waste to be depressed, isn’t it?/ there’s no time for regretting,” they sing while keeping a smile on their face. They deliver that message of uselessness in moping around as they’ve often have, but that obviousness seems as if it also adds pressure on the idols themselves as they, too, go out for a little escape.

[7]

“Jinsei Blues”

Coupled with “Seishun Night”

Release date: June 12, 2019

Oricon Weekly placement: 3rd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Sakura Oda    

Though Morning Musume have been inspirational with their actions, the group’s lyrics about staying positive were easier said than done when it came down to actually embracing them as words of consolation. “Jinsei Blues” includes more messages that are wise yet slightly removed from reality, but the song is also more empathetic to just how unfair life could be. Each piece of wisdom is immediately followed by a “but…” -- “if you don’t rush, you can do this/ I know this but…” -- revealing a skepticism about their own beliefs that’s well visible from the ellipses.

The idols further admit to their own shortcomings in “Jinsei Blues.” They get distracted, succumb to clumsiness, and self-sabotage by oversleeping in the second verse, and the mantras in the first come across more as a pep talk to repeat to themselves in order to calm down when things go awry: “Don’t be afraid/ don’t be bewildered/ don’t hesitate/ don’t let your guard down,” they list off, perhaps with their eyes closed so they can return to a more collected state. The wonky vocal clippings in the beat crowd the music as if they were dark voices bumming their thoughts. “Balance, balance, balance, balaaance,” they sing to snap themselves out of it.

Work has been central to the group’s songs since at least the Colorful era, but they kept it more in a conceptual realm. Any effort, physical or mental, put in to advance one’s self-development qualified as work in their eyes, whether that was studying, reinforcing a positive mental image or simply persisting despite it all.

The “Jinsei Blues” video, meanwhile, applies that theme to actual part-time labor. Masaki Sato cleans the restroom as a custodian, Reina Yokoyama scrubs off leftovers as a dishwasher, and Kaede Kaga struggles to follow instructions as a studio assistant. They act the part of dreamers toughing out those shifts at a menial job that you take out of necessity while you work on your real aspirations.

Because of this, I specifically associate “Jinsei Blues” as a song dealing with the stresses of work life despite the lyrics not actually alluding to it. It only gets reinforced from the fact I play Morning Musume songs during my commutes to and from work to cheer myself up. The group’s pep talk provide a good dose of positivity, but what really resonates are those hints of skepticism that reveal a crack in their spotless image. Though they often appear victorious, they also fail like us: the video features Ayumi Ishida and Maria Makino not making their dance auditions. The difference between them and the common folk may be that they take it in stride, gracefully turning those failures into experiences to learn from, but even then, they still sound slightly exhausted from having to try yet again.

[7]

Morning Musume ‘18

We are getting very close to the end with now Morning Musume ‘18′s singles complete. These were also the first singles I enjoyed as I started get into the group, so it was fun revisiting them with all of the knowledge gained from starting this blog. Here is what we covered in the past couple weeks.

“Jiyuu Na Kuni Dakara”

Coupled with “Furari Ginza”

Release date: October 24, 2018

Oricon Weekly placement: 2nd

Members: Akane Haga, Ayumi Ishida, Chisaki Morito, Erina Ikuta, Haruna Iikubo, Kaede Kaga, Maria Makino, Masaki Sato, Miki Nonaka, Mizuki Fukumura, Reina Yokoyama, Sakura Oda

“Jiyuu Na Kuni Dakara” is a performance piece more than it is a pop song. The lyric-less chorus consisting of just the electro drop should already give that impression. A classic example of their formation dances, the choreography further proves the song deserves a live setting for it to fully come alive. The quiet build before the big burst features the lead singer surrounded by the rest of the group, slowly descending in sync to the build to reveal more of its center. There’s also the catchy “you can’t see me” gesture to go with the rapid repeat of the final lines before the beat finally drops, where the idols pop-lock to the shuffling beat while moving in formation.

Keeping with a live-performance mentality, “Jiyuu Na Kuni Dakara” is constructed with different small scenes that each get a highlight throughout the performance. The track doesn’t follow much of a narrative. Rather, it strings together biting lines all tied to the general Morning Musume narrative of navigating life with a strong moral ground. “If it has a change, it will break eventually/ I won’t hold on to regrets forever,” goes one dramatic line. “The line you said that one time is totally different from how you are now/ I find it strange why you’re not ashamed” goes another kiss-off lyric, both pressed with urgency by the group’s lead singers.

A personal favorite is the titular lyric. “It’s a free country, so I will make a decision myself,” Mizuki Fukumura sings in the second pre-chorus. She sings with grace despite the lyric’s implied directness as the music silences into its build, but that calm makes it sound even more intimidating. As if her unbreakable will didn’t come across enough, Masaki Satou immediately follows in case anyone still dared to interject: “I won’t hear any excuses,” she sings, throwing her voice around like a weapon.

Morning Musume find the titular section worthy of a dramatic highlight as well. The group repeats it through two key changes toward the end of the track. The group corners this weak-willed other with each shift, that line about shame in being morally inconsistent needling in its passive-aggressiveness. “Jiyuu Na Kuni Dakara” blows up all these quotable lines you wish you could say with a dynamic electronic beat to match.

[7]