Blue Spirit Blues (Maki Asakawa, 1972)

Maki Asakawa [浅川マキ] (1942 – 2010) arguibly was, by herself, part of the modern history of Japan. The postwar musical boom of Japan, slowly building upon vinyls stranded from the American troops of MacArthur, started out slow and tortuous, but was to become the auditive equivalent of the literary blossoming which happened during the Meiji years. For the longest time now, Japan has been the second largest musical market and record producer of the world, aside from holding the 3rd GDP worldwide, to the point of influencing all the music industries of the eastern sphere (with artists from Singapore to Korea usually recording songs in Japanese to this very day); but the reality of those very first years was very different. Maki, who was to become the shining star of blues and jazz in her native country, lived through all that.

She was born at the apex of the Japanese Empire: just a year after Pearl Harbour in 1941, during a bloody first campaign in China, Hong Kong, Singapore, Thailand, the Philippines, Burma, the Pacific Islands and even Australia. Her parents were from Mikawa-machi [美川町], at the time a small folk town in Ishikawa Prefecture. The insignificance of this location spared it from the bitter landfight on Japanese soil, despite its proximity to the invasion route (right after Okinawa). Still a baby by the end of the conflict, she nevertheless experienced both the hunger of the immediate postwar reconstruction period and the American Occupation period (1945-1951/72). Undertaking her first studies as a child, she inhabited a desolate city, as the bigger metropolis had to be reconstructed from scratch; their previous paper and wood architecture forever lost. For most businesses, the only path to prosperity was providing goods or entertainment to foreign soldiers or representatives; the resulting trade culture created a black market of cultural goods which greatly transformed the cultural landscape of a generation born with its most fundamental necessities barely covered. This was the first significant contact with both blues and jazz for most Japanese people; of course, many wealthy urbanites of the Taishō period got to dance jazz and play blues vinyls both in halls and at home, but they were a flagrant minority. And during the Shōwa period, such activities were banned as part of the anti-American propaganda effort, searching to wash away any cultural sympathy between countries in order to dehumanize them (just as it happened to the ''Swingjugend'' of Nazi Germany).

By the time she turned 20, during the sixties, jazz and blues had reached deep maturity in Japan (perhaps more so than in any other country); also, the rock and surf music were just setting foot and would prove to be quite popular too. At the time Maki left highschool in Ishikawa prefecture, she was able to get a government position as accountant within the Japanese pension system; this allowed her to settle in Tokyo, where she was to discover and pursue the path of the blues. It may sound weird hearing of such a young person holding a public position, but Japan was reconstructed under the influx of both the American New-Deal and the considerable influence of the left at the time, its popularity at the highest point in modern Japanese History due to its previous opposition to the war effort. As a result, public positions were regularly offered and many people relocated to the urban areas, thus allowing young Maki to save some money as she began singing in US Army bases and cabarets.

There she improved her singing at an alarming rate, devouring every and all vinyl from the classic artists of blues, gospel and jazz. Nina Simone, Mahalia Jackson and Billie Holiday were particularly strong influences on her, but slowly and inadvertedly she was to develop her own signature sound, obviously balancing the divergence between these traditionally afroamerican genres and the peculiar sonority of the Japanese language and its pauses or emphasis. Her meandering and potent singing, together with her presence -that of a tall, cigarette-smoking lady in black- earned her a great deal of popularity before recording anything at all, as an itinerant singer at pubs, military camps and end of the night sessions well past midnight. It was there she was approached by -then again- Terayama Shūji [寺山 修司], surprised on his late night errands by a voice he saw very much in synchrony with his own projects, musical and poetic. Past this year of 1967, and after scoring many underground concerts along with Terayama (whose poems would also turn in songs, such as Rear Window [裏窓] or A Cat Named Sadness [ふしあわせという名の猫]) and other on-the-making musicians, she signed on a label under Toshiba and went on to become a celebrated musician for more than 30 years. Spanning a long and fruitful career, Maki stopped recording albums in the late 90's to remain a live performance singer. For a long time her albums were hard to find even inside Japan, as she deeply distrusted the CD format, favouring the re-issuing of old vinyl material. During the 2000's she gave her consent to a digitalization process which made her CD material possible.

''Blue Spirit Blues'', released on English on 1972, was her third official album with a record label. A deeply, electric-blue vinyl within its dark case and front cover, the physical format of the release very much compliments its content: a fully bluesque recording entrenched upon a gloomy, dead of night atmosphere. The somber and austere instrumentation of piano, guitars and voice, along with a fortunate use of reverb in the recording room, truly creates a meditative and mental space from the get-go. The first track ブルー・スピリット・ブルース [Blue Spirit Blues] bears the name of the album, and deserves to be considered its finest piece also. It is a cover of the classic by Bessie Smith, but its transcription to Maki's style makes it almost unrecognisable. Its dark and measured string rythm builts a tension that Maki's voice releases at the same time, with a mastery of both tune and projection honestly stunning. The Japanese lyrics go as these:

Last night I died

I had an awful dream

And all the demons were waiting for me there

The net track is 難破ブルース [Damaged Blues or, as blues titles go, Blues of the Damaged]. Way more upbeat and jazzy, it includes saxophone and a syncopated piano beat to it. Playful and sassy, Maki's voice works on an entirely different way from the first track. Its location within the album is a clever choice, since the next track, 奇妙な果実 [Strange Fruit; yes, a Billie Holiday's cover], returns to seriousness albeit in a new fashion. Spanning six minutes, its first half is an orgy of piano notes, almost improvisational as the genre demands of it. The impressive performance eventually ends to open the second act, Maki's deep voice singing in English (as she often did) to the American classic. Beautiful in its own dark way, Maki's tribute is just as impressive as that of Eleanora, and I mean no disrespect. Easily returning to her natal rongue, あの娘がくれたブルース [The Blues That Lass Gave Me] immediately follows; this a quite pleasant and relaxed take on blues, and has something quite Japanese about it, from its portuary setting to its clever phrasing. While this is not as somber as Blue Spirit Blues, Maki's voice (just like that of all great blues singers) brings the damage with her by defect, and its inflections and rich color powerfully stems forth through all this album.

ハスリン・ダン [Hustlin' Dan] is a Bessie Smith cover cleverly translated to Japanese and becoming an amazing track on its own terms. As pleasant and tranquil as the original, it focuses solely on guitar and voice. The result is a colorful and upbeat theme, balancing the ''darkening'' she applies to other covers. ページ・ワン [Page One], likely named after Joe Henderson's Nova Bossa album, is another slow and meditative blues piece. It adds a small organ but lacks any wind instruments, definitely not a bossa track; the final guitar solo is beautiful and rich, easily the best among these songs. 灯ともし頃[Lamp-Lighting Time; that is, early evening] is a fast-paced blues, also with commendable guitar work. Easy-going and quite short, it is all in all a great but does not stand out compared to others here. 町 [City] is perhaps the album's bossa song, also very jazzy. The sweet wind-built rythm leaves a lot of room for both voice and solo guitars, this time with leveled-up distortion; this makes 町 the heaviest track on this particular album. The last track, 大砂塵 [which would literally translate as ''Big Dust''], would actually have the unexpected translation of Johnny Guitar, on account of the Japanese translation of the novel by Roy Chanslor and its later film adaptation (1954, Nicholas Ray). Of course, the American love for westerns in both music and film was typical of the times, and cowboys were popular culture among the young Japanese (and not-so young

people as Terayama himself), growing up surrounded by American troops. In fact, westerns were just as American a feature (that of the conquerors) as the blues was (that of the repressed and persecuted). While the guitar in fact plays more folkish/country than any other here, Maki's voice does not change its demeanor, overall complimenting it with a higher pitch. Its departure from the engulfing darkness of the album opening, reaching a nostalgic optimism, makes it a good choice for the closing. Overall a fantastic album, filled with personality despite its many tributes. 

Maki Asakawa died of heart failure as of 2010, while getting ready for a performance on the evening. A lasting and remembered figure, the re-issuing of her music and the many many tributes and versions of her songs on live pubs are testimony of how much in fact she defined the postwar generation. In fact, there is a pub entirely dedicated to her in Shinjuku, 裏窓 [Rear Window]. Also, many other blues singers such as Kimiko Itoh hold her as a powerful influence still to this day. Now one can only wish for her inclusion among the many lasting figures of international blues, something not that far-fetched considering how much has the internet democratized access to music.