Kanye West has announced he will be hosting a second listening event for his much-delayed album Donda. It’s set to take place on Thursday, August 5 – a day before the album’s official release date – at 9pm EST at Mercedes Benz Stadium in Atlanta. The listening party, dubbed Kanye West Presents The DONDA Album Release, was by confirmed entertainment group Live Nation, who made the announcement today (July 31). The event will feature creative direction by Balenciaga’s Demna Gvasalia. Tickets go on sale Monday, August 2 at 10am EST (3pm BST).
Kanye West previously premiered Donda at a sold-out listening event at Mercedes-Benz Stadium on July 22. The album was slated for release the following day, but no album materialized. Last week, it was revealed that the rapper had moved into the Mercedes-Benz Stadium to finish work on the record.
Skirts is the project of 26-year-old singer-songwriter Alex Montenegro, who started releasing music under the moniker in 2017. After a series of singles and an EP, the Dallas-born artist signed to Double Double Whammy for her debut record, Great Big Wild Oak, which is out today – a warm, finely crafted collection of songs that takes the intimacy of her lo-fi recordings and renders those personal experiences in rich detail, with subtle flourishes of synths, saxophone, banjo, flute, and clarinet adorning Montenegro’s gentle vocals. There’s a great comfort in how Montenegro, along with live band members Vincent Bui, Victor Bui, and Joshua Luttrull, have brought these songs to life, like watching time-lapse footage of flowers blooming. The effect is ultimately soothing, but there’s an intricate complexity at work that keeps things engaging: on the song ‘Easy’, the dreamy instrumentation mirrors the feeling of being enraptured by another person that Montegro evokes in her lyrics, inviting you into a moment of collective attention. Like its beautiful cover, the album not only captures but enhances the kind of stillness where the tiniest movement ripples through the frame – the kind you want to hold onto when the whole landscape seems to shift at an alarming rate.
We caught up with skirts’ Alex Montenegro for this edition of our Artist Spotlight interview series to talk about her musical journey, the inspirations behind Great Big Wild Oak, and more.
What was it like growing up in Dallas?
Nothing about it stood out to me – it just felt very normal, honestly. I always loved music, but I found comfort in music communities online, so I was online a lot growing up. But I started working at record stores when I was 19, so that kind of opened my whole view on Dallas.
Do you mind sharing some early memories of enjoying music?
My dad is a DJ, so I guess he’s the one that introduced me to music. I remember being a child and my dad teaching me how to put a needle on a record, you know, and that affected me my whole life. Every Saturday I would wake up super early to him just practicing, playing music next door, and that’s always left an impression on me; always being around DJ equipment with my dad and looking through his records.
When did you start playing music yourself?
I got my first guitar when I was about nine years old, and I just started learning how to play by ear. I watched that movie School of Rock, I remember after watching it that I begged my dad to buy me an electric guitar. I didn’t really get into writing songs until I was about 16, so it happened much later. I think I took one music lesson but it didn’t work out, so I just ended up teaching myself.
You mentioned discovering music communities online – did that come before you started immersing yourself in the local music scene?
I definitely feel like I met people making music like me online before I met people making music like me in Dallas. I never explored a Dallas scene because I didn’t know how to find it, and I guess I wasn’t really looking for it because I was so immersed in this online community of bedroom pop artists, just listening to their music and trying to find all these cool new artists I could listen to.
In another interview, you referenced flatsound as one of those artists that had an impact on you. And I was so glad to see that, because he’s not often cited as an influence despite being so integral to that lo-fi music community that flourished on places like Tumblr. I was wondering if you could elaborate on what resonated with you about that whole sound.
Mitch [Welling] of flatsound – his music was the first thing I ever heard like that that was lo-fi. I didn’t know what lo-fi was, I had never heard anything like it. And it was just so open and honest, and it was really cool that this person was recording this stuff at home by themselves and being incredibly succesful. It was inspiring just in the sense of, I can record at home as well, and I can try uploading my stuff online. It made me feel a little less scared to do that because anyone could do it. And Tumblr opened that whole world for me, which is maybe goofy, but it definitely did influence me, finding out about music on there.
In terms of songwriting, did it inspire you to be more open and honest when writing about how you were feeling?
Maybe it did like kind of say, like, you can write about personal things. You don’t have to be like Joanna Newsom, who I was really into at the time, who is writing all these incredibly complex lyrics. It’s very much poetry – even without the music, it stands alone. And I think for a while, I was under the impression that’s what good song lyrics were. And it definitely showed me, you know, there’s lots of other good ways of writing lyrics. It doesn’t necessarily have to be this complex, intricate, big essay.
Was there a specific moment when you started taking music more seriously?
I was 19, and I had released an EP called Almost Touching. And to my surprise, people started listening to it and commenting on it and buying it. I think I did like three different tape pressings, and I just had to keep making tapes. I feel like maybe I started taking myself a little bit more seriously once I did start playing local shows and touring.
There’s a line on ‘Swim’, “If a salmon can swim upstream then I can learn to swim,” that I read traces back to when you were a teenager. Could you talk about when that thought first struck you?
I used to write poems, I guess – and maybe it was bad poetry – but I remember writing a poem when I was about 17 or 18, and that that was the closing line of the poem. And I always wanted something more for that line, because for whatever reason, I really connected to it. And I tried throughout the years to put it into a song and like sneak it in there, but it never felt right until I was writing ‘Swim’ and I had like that last line to write for the song, and all of a sudden it just clicked. And yeah, it’s always just stuck with me – I can’t even remember what that poem was about. I can remember other lines from it that I feel like I’m also saving, just from that poem.
Were you always interested in connecting poetry and music in that way, or was there a time where you kind of separated the two?
I feel like maybe I started with being unable to separate them, and that maybe in part has something to do with how I felt about Joanna Newsom’s lyrics, and how I can read them and be incredibly touched and be like, “This is poetry.” But my own personal songwriting has felt less and less like a starting point from poetry, just because I feel like poetry is a skill that I lack. I’m not positive when that changed for me, but I don’t write poetry anymore. I’ll write thoughts that I have and, I don’t know, make it work in a melody or something.
When you started putting together your debut album, Great Big Wild Oak, what was on your mind when it came to figuring out what you wanted the project to represent?
I feel like the shift happened to me when we were done recording. I didn’t have an idea for the album until the songs were done, and even then I was like talking to my label and I still didn’t know my album title and I didn’t know my album art. I feel like I got a loose concept of what I wanted when I wrote one of the last songs for the album, which I wrote towards the end of recording where we had to record a last track, and it’s called ‘Sapling’. And that’s the song that I feel like subconsciously started linking everything together.
‘Sapling’ was an incredibly important song to me. I wrote it the day before my birthday, and I tend to struggle with my birthday, like a lot of people, and I think that song is just about feeling overwhelmed and this, like, lack of direction, and just trying to cope with moving forward despite feeling so bad. And in that song, there’s a line that’s like, “Another year has passed, and I don’t feel as old/ As it says on my license, until I am told/ That I have grown into a great big wild oak/ And I’ll always be a sapling to my mother.” Which ties also just to, as much as I try to grow, I feel like there is always a place that I come back to where I feel still like a child, you know. Like, “What am I doing, what’s going on?” It’s just a lot – like, feeling lost. And that’s where the album title came from, and it all just kind of rolled out after that.
I love how, in that song, you kind of go back and forth between setting a very specific scene and then zoning out with thoughts like, “I know someone’s rolling over in their grave/ They want to tell me I’m missing out on living.” Is that something that often happens to you when you’re in ordinary situations, where you’re hit by these almost existential questions? Or was it very much related to the fact that it was your birthday?
Yeah, I feel that it was a much bigger factor, where it was my birthday and I felt very upset. That line you just said specifically is about, like, the year before I had lost a really close friend of mine, Kevin, and I had also lost my aunt. And I was incredibly depressed. I was sort of just like, “Man, I’m just laying in my bed all day, and like, they’re not here anymore, and they would be incredibly upset probably if they were here and I had told them about this.” And that’s what that line is typically referring to. And yeah, it is common in the sense of like, I’m human and these thoughts happen and sometimes things get really hard, and it’s easy to fall in a swamp and feel sad. But the song is trying to find comfort in a crappy situation.
Do you feel like writing and recording that song has helped you come out the other end of that feeling?
Yeah, maybe to a certain point. I mean, I feel like you’ll always feel pain for losing a loved one, whether it’s through death or romantically, you know. And you can grow from it, but I feel like ultimately you’ll always carry that with you.
What was it like working with the rest of the band and seeing how the songs grew in their own way since you first wrote them?
It was really cool. I was so used to just doing everything on my own, and it was a lot of fun getting to work with my best friends and just make what it is now. At that point, it sort of becomes less about what I wrote, you know, and it’s like more of a technical thing of, you’re allowed to step outside of the lyrics and just have fun with it.
I wanted to ask you about the stunning photograph that graces the cover, which predates the album.Could you give a little bit of backstory as to how that came about?
I was in Mount Rainier National Park in Washington, just visiting a friend. And we went on this hike, and I always have a camera with me so I’m just taking pictures of everything with no intention, really, just to have it. And we get to this part of the trail, which is kind of like the peak point of the trail because you’re about to see Mount Rainer, and right aside from it is this beautiful pond, and I just see these people swimming in it. I was just like, “Wow, that’s so magical. I have to take a picture of this.” And when I got it developed, I was very surprised and just like, “I need to use this, I don’t know what I’ll use it for, but I’ll save it for later.” I never posted it, I just wanted to keep it saved if an opportunity ever came. And whenever the album was done, I was unsure about the album photo, and I remembered, like, “What about that photo?” And for a while, we were going to incorporate drawings on the photo, but I think the day before, even after we commissioned my friend to do it, I decided, “Let’s just go just the photo.” And yeah, I’m really happy with it.
Do you have other photographs that you’re proud of that you think you might use in the future?
At this moment, no. I’ve been really into Super 8, so I’ve been shooting a lot of that and saving that, but I put some of those clips in the ‘Always’ music video. I just went to Seattle again and went to Mount Rainier because we took limited polaroids for pre-orders, and I have a roll of film that I’m really excited to develop.
How did it feel going back there?
It was really surreal. My friends got to see what this picture everyone’s been like looking at and you just immediately know and you’re like, “Wow.”
Whether it be with lines and poetry or photographs that you don’t use right away, can you describe that feeling of finally being like, “Okay, I think this is a good time to put this out into the world”?
Yeah, it’s weird because I sort of forget about those things. It’s like I’m subconsciously holding on to them and I don’t even realise it, and there just comes a moment, like in ‘Swim’, where I was like, “If a salmon can swim upstream then I can learn to swim,” and it just made sense at that moment. There isn’t like a formula to it, I guess it just happens sometimes.
With the release of the album, do you still feel like you’re in that place where you still haven’t fully realized it yet?
A part of me is incredibly nervous for people to hear it, but another part of me – we’ve been working on it for so long that I’m just ready. And yeah, I have no idea how it’s gonna feel the day of. I’ve never released something like this. I can believe it, but it also does feel like a dream in a way.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
Billie Eilish has released her much-anticipated sophomore album Happier Than Ever. The follow-up to 2019’s When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? is out now via Darkroom/Interscope, and it features the advance singles ‘my future’, ‘Therefore I Am’, ‘Your Power’, ‘Lost Cause’, and ‘NDA’. Eilish wrote the album with her brother and collaborator Finneas and recorded it in the basement studio of his Los Angeles home. “I wanted to make a very timeless record that wasn’t just timeless in terms of what other people thought, but really just timeless for myself,” Eilish told Vevo, citing artists including Julie London, Frank Sinatra, and Peggy Lee as primary influences. “The main thing that I would hope is for people to hear what I say and then go, ‘Oh, God, I feel like that. I didn’t know I felt like that, but this is how I feel.’ And maybe, you know, make a change in their life that makes them happier.”
Jack Antonoff has returned with his third Bleachers album. The project’s first full-length since 2017’s Gone Now is called Take the Sadness Out of Saturday Night, and it includes the previously unveiled singles ‘Chinatown’ (featuring Bruce Springsteen), ‘Secret Life’ (featuring Lana Del Rey), ‘How Dare You Want More’, and ‘Stop Making This Hurt’. The 10-track LP was inspired by a breakup in 2017 and completed during the COVID-19 pandemic. “When I hear the words ‘Saturday night’, I think anything’s possible — maybe it’s from movies or something, it’s not necessarily the way I feel,” Antonoff told Buzzfeed. “It’s this wide open space, and, for a lot of us, possibility and hope comes with sadness. The whole point of the album is prosecuting this idea, I can’t wait to take the sadness out of Saturday night. It’s the most joyous way of saying it.”
Torres, the moniker of singer-songwriter Mackenzie Scott, is back with her fifth studio album, Thirstier. Recorded in autumn 2020 at Middle Farm Studios in the UK, the LP follows 2020’s Silver Tongue and marks her second full-length with Merge Records. “I’ve been conjuring this deep, deep joy that I honestly didn’t feel for most of my life,” Scott said of the album in a statement. “I feel like a rock within myself. And I’ve started to feel that I have what it takes to help other people conjure their joy, too.” She added: “I wanted to channel my intensity into something that felt positive and constructive, as opposed to being intense in a destructive or eviscerating way. I love the idea that intensity can actually be something life-saving or something joyous.”
LUMP, the project of Laura Marling and Mike Lindsay of Tunng, have followed up their self-titled 2018 debut with the new album Animal, which is out now via Partisan/Chrysalis. Where its predecessor drew inspiration from early 20th century surrealism and the absurdist poets Edward Lear and Ivor Cutler, Animal was influenced by the psychoanalytic texts Marling was reading during the making of the album. “There’s a little bit of a theme of hedonism on the album, of desires running wild,” Lindsay explained in a statement. “We created LUMP as a sort of persona and an idea and a creature. Through LUMP we find our inner animal, and through that animal we travel into a parallel universe.” Read our review of the album.
Great Big Wild Oak is the debut full-length album from Texas songwriter Alex Montenegro, who records under the moniker Skirts. Out now on Double Double Whammy, the LP follows Skirts’ 2018 Almost Touching EP and was recorded between various home studios in Dallas with help from live band members and friends Vincent Bui, Victor Bui, and Joshua Luttrull. The album’s cover artwork is a photo taken by Montenegro on a trip to Mount Rainier.
Chattanooga rapper Isaiah Rashad has dropped his long-awaited album The House Is Burning via Top Dawg Entertainment/Warner Records. Arriving five years after his previous LP The Sun’s Tirade, the new record features guest spots from Lil Uzi Vert, 6LACK, Smino, as well as Rashad’s TDE labelmates SZA and Jay Rock. The House Is Burning was preceded by the singles ‘Lay With Ya’, ‘Headshots (4r Da Locals)’, and ‘Wat U Said’.
Poise, the moniker of New York-based singer-songwriter Lucie Murphy, has issued her debut LP, Vestiges. “A lot of this record is about finding confidence and learning to put myself back together when bad things happen,” Murphy said of the album, which follows her 2019 PoiseEP. “It’s about coming out stronger, despite everything.” During the pandemic, Murphy left her Brooklyn apartment and rented out a cabin in Vermont, where the album’s 11 songs came together within the space of three months. “I felt like this was the universe telling me that I have to write this album now,” she added in a press release. “There really isn’t time to wait.”
Yola‘s new album Stand for Myself is out now via Dan Auerbach’s label Easy Eye Sound. The record finds Yola – real name Yolanda Quartey – reuniting with the Black Keys frontman, who also produced her 2019 breakthrough Walk Through Fire. “It’s a collection of stories of allyship, black feminine strength through vulnerability, and loving connection from the sexual to the social,” Yola said of the album in a statement. “It is an album not blindly positive and it does not simply plead for everyone to come together. It instead explores ways that we need to stand for ourselves throughout our lives, what limits our connection as humans and declares that real change will come when we challenge our thinking and acknowledge our true complexity.”
Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer koleżanka (aka Kristina Moore) has released her latest album Place Is. Marking her debut for Bar/None, the LP was written over two years and recorded mostly via email exchanges with longtime collaborator Ark Calkins. Speaking of the single ‘7th St/7th Ave’, Moore explained that “this song lyrically encapsulates a lot of what the record was written about; being here while being there. I was feeling physically split between different homes. I had a home in Phoenix, a home in Brooklyn, and various homes I’d found while being on the road. As I spent time in one place, I felt the other grow farther. I have thought often about “place” vs “space” the past three years. What makes space a place. If a place is only physically spaced.”
Other albums out today:
Prince, Welcome 2 America; Alan Vega, Alan Vega After Dark; DāM-FunK, Above the Fray; King Woman, Celestial Blues; Son Volt, Electro Melodier; Jim Lauderdale, Hope; Dot Allison, Heart-Shaped Scars; Horsey, Debonair; L Devine, Near Life Experience Part One.
Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak are back with a new Silk Sonic single. Following March’s ‘Leave the Door Open’, ‘Skate’ arrives with an accompanying video co-directed by Mars, Florent Déchard, and Philippe Tayag. Check it out below.
‘Skate’ is the second single from the duo’s collaborative project, and it’s set to appear on their forthcoming debut album An Evening with Silk Sonic. Mars and .Paak have performed ‘Leave the Door Open’ at the Grammys, the iHeartRadioMusic Awards, and the BET Awards.
The first trailer for House of Gucci trailer has been unveiled. The film, directed and co-produced by Ridley Scott, stars Lady Gaga as Patrizia Reggiani, the ex-wife of Maurizio Gucci, who is portrayed by Adam Driver. Watch the trailer, which features Blondie’s ‘Heart of Glass’, below.
Based on Sara Gay Forden’s book The House of Gucci: A Sensational Story of Murder, Madness, Glamour, and Greed, the film focuses on the 1995 murder of Maurizio Gucci. In addition to Lady Gaga and Adam Driver, it stars Jared Leto (as Paolo Gucci), Jeremy Irons (as Rodolfo Gucci), Jack Huston (as Domenico De Sole), Salma Hayek (as Giuseppina “Pina” Auriemma), and Al Pacino (as Aldo Gucci). The film is scored by Harry Gregson-Williams. House of Gucci hits UK theaters on November 26, two days after the US release.
Skepta and J Balvin have teamed up for a new song called ‘Nirvana’. It’s taken from the grime MC’s new EP All In, which is out today. Check out a KLVDR-directed video for the track and stream the full project below.
In addition to J Balvin, All In features guest appearances from Teezee and Kid Cudi. The EP’s title was inspired by Skepta’s newfound love of poker: “You can be dealt good cards or bad cards, but if you don’t get good cards you can still bluff, hustle and win…” he said in a statement. “You learn when to play aggressive or when to hold back and chill.”
Geoffroy Hauwen, the exciting landscape photographer, unveiled a new series named Fragments. The series expands through a mirror frame placed in each shot, like a teleport door into another place. The beach surroundings give out a spiritual, lonely-like ambience that radiates through its isolated and cold appearance.
Accessories are an absolute must-have, men and women alike! They serve the purpose of pulling a look together and seek to express one’s style and personality. The market is choke-full of accessories that offer versatility in different ways to create different looks without purchasing new outfits. Undoubtedly, Handbags, especially for women, are the go-to accessories to complete any look. A Fendi baguette bag, for instance, is a classic that pairs well with formal and casual outfits. This bag cuts across all ages and is bound to make a statement regardless of the occasion.
For men, hats are the simplest yet most practical of accessories.With lots of sun-drenched days, hats should be a staple in every man’s wardrobe. Hats provide the needed protection to the face, neck, and shoulders depending upon how wide the brim is. The perfect hat is that which can make one look trendy all the while offering protection from the glaring sun. It’s common knowledge that UV rays from the sun can cause health damages such as premature aging, certain skin cancers, hyperpigmentation, leathery skin, liver spots, or even eye problems.
With a hat, your face is the primary focus hence you don’t have to worry about your hair, you just need to brush your hair, adorn your favorite hat and you are good to go! The rule of thumb to wearing a hat is to first consider it as you begin to assemble your look. The choice of one over the other is primarily based on style, season, and occasion. The key to picking any hat is to go for one that feels comfortable, lightweight and provides excellent protection from the sun. Below is a highlight of this year hottest must-haves to furnish your closet for 2021;
The Bucket hat
Bucket hats first made a hit in the ’90s but the trend is slowly but surely making a comeback. These hats can take your style from good to absolutely legendary without trying too much. Bucket hats complement well with streetwear. Always choose a color that matches the scheme in the rest of your outfit to create a cohesive and stylish look.
The Baseball hat
A baseball hat is the most popular and a must-have in every man’s closet. A well-fitting baseball hat ought to sit comfortably above the ears and the front resting on the forehead. When in doubt, choose a neutral color for the hat, allowing it to match with any outfit. Its compatibility with all body types makes it the best bet for any man looking for a summer hat.
The Visor
One would arguably state that the visor is barely a hat. Yes, it’s pretty much a brim but still does the job pretty well. This hat shades the eyes while allowing the top of the head to have a breather. A visor hat is for the man who wants to look good and make a statement. It pairs well with a casual look such as tracksuits and is extremely lightweight.
The Fedora
The Fedora was ‘THE’ hat to own for men from the late 1890s up to the 1950s. Back in the day, gentlemen rarely went out without their priced hats. A classic Fedora hat is shaped like a teardrop silhouette and an indented crown with a wide brim. Today, men have taken up on the Fedora to make a bold fashion statement. For office and official occasions, these hats can be used to bring a touch of formality to any outfit.
Panama hats
Panama hats are the perfect accessory for formal wear such as tailored suits that are worn with dress shoes. These hats are hand-woven from the toquilla straw which is considered the finest of weaves and it can take up to four months to weave hence goes without saying that these hats can cost a pretty penny but for a good cause.
“[T]his drama, broadcast on public radio, became more than a shared group experience: it became fodder for a thriving mass consumer culture that involved all types of mass media from print to broadcasting.” – Jayson Makoto Chun, A Nation of a Hundred Million Idiots?: A Social History of Japanese Television, 1953-1973 (Pg. 45)
“What Is Your Name?offers a vision of a purity of romance that transcends […] the compromises made to survive the chaos of the immediate post-defeat era.” – Isolde Standish, A New History of Japanese Cinema: A Century of Narrative Film (Pg. 200)
In the early 1950s, Japan entered the final chapter of its postwar American Occupation (1945-1952), during which time at-home entertainment flourished to a degree never before seen. While television research, stalled since the war, remained low on the priority list,1 radio broadcasting expanded freely, capitalizing on pre-existent audiences and technology. Japan had conducted its first successful radio transmission in 1897, one year after Guglielmo Marconi’s pioneering research in Europe, and radio reports on enemy movement have been cited as a factor in the nation’s swift victory in the Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905).2 Despite the government’s hesitance on allowing new technology into non-military hands, Japanese public broadcasting debuted in the mid-’20s; by the end of World War II, 62% of urban homes and 39% of rural residences had at least one radio set.3 And following the surrender of 1945, the Occupation authorities encouraged continued use of radio—in particular, the broadcasting of English lessons as part of their mission to “democratize” the Land of the Rising Sun.4
Radio consumerism persisted after the Occupation ended in 1952. That year, a survey by NHK (Nippon Hoso Kyokai — Japan Broadcasting Corporation) found that the average Japanese listened to 3 hours and 27 minutes of radio on weekdays and up to 4 hours and 27 minutes on Sundays.5 And with the foreign authorities—and their media censorship programs — now gone, Japanese artists were free to tell stories in virtually any manner they chose. While some lambasted the nation which had subjugated them, others used wartorn/occupied Japan as a backdrop for old-fashioned melodrama — in effect modernizing time-tested entertainment formulas.
Japanese audiences have historically gravitated to tragic love stories — namely those about endlessly suffering women and weak-willed men. The early 20th century theatrical genre shinpa essentially became dedicated to such plots: geisha loved by rich patrons too timid to challenge social divides and marry them; country girls abandoned with child by fame-seeking beaus who return to them as failures.6 Established consumer demographics meant this kind of sentiment could easily migrate between media formats—especially at the film company Shochiku, whose early output in the 1920s largely consisted of adapted shinpa dramas, and who later produced Hiromasa Nomura’s The Compassionate Buddha Tree (1938). The latter, a romantic drama based on a popular serialized novel, blew away prewar box office records, spawned a chain of sequels, and has since been remade/imitated a number of times.
Romantic media thrived during the Occupation years. (Between 1945-1950, 25% of Japanese movies focused on romance.)7 While censorship forbade heroic depictions of militarism, apolitical — or pro-democratic — love stories generally cleared the American authorities’ scissors. (Keisuke Kinoshita’s 1947 Marriage was precisely the sort of the film that appealed to the Occupation: about a young woman persuading her family to let her marry for love rather than gain. Though it is worth noting the censors tended to be lenient on the subject of arranged matrimony; while denouncing the practice on paper, they allowed Kinoshita’s later Here’s to the Young Lady and Yasujiro Ozu’s Late Spring, both about that subject, to be made in 1949.) In subsequent decades, the “weak man and suffering woman” trope occasionally wavered — i.e., moving to television in the ‘60s as yakuza films satisfied an increasingly male audience—but remains prevalent. Today, one finds a multitude of “sick girl love stories”: Japanese movies and TV shows about the vibrant young lady who loses her heart to the quiet guy in the room and is later bedridden with some awful disease; all her beau can do is watch her wither away.8
Flashing back to the early 1950s, during the “Golden Age of Radio”: weepy escapism, regardless of media format, still attracted audiences in droves — as demonstrated by the multimedia phenomenon What Is Your Name? Taking inspiration from a foreign tearjerker, this story about star-crossed lovers began as a serialized radio drama and attained such heights of popularity that it spanned numerous entertainment venues and produced one of the big commercial sensations of the post-Occupation era. While hardly an artistic landmark, it remains a noteworthy chapter in the history of Japanese mass media—and a time capsule embodying a nation reeling from the effects of war and postwar change.
ORIGINS
The genesis of the show under discussion traces back to a 1940 Mervyn LeRoy film called Waterloo Bridge,9 about an army captain (Robert Taylor) and a ballerina (Vivien Leigh) who meet on the eponymous bridge during the London air raids of World War I. Loosely remade from James Whale’s 1931 film of the same name — itself adapted from a Robert E. Sherwood stage play — Waterloo Bridge was a romantic tragedy: the captain and the ballerina plan to marry, but their chance at happiness is lost when he is summoned to the front and penury/sadness lead to her selling her body. LeRoy’s film arrived in Japanese theaters in the late ‘40s, and one can see its influence in What Is Your Name?
Written by playwright Kazuo Kikuta,10 the What Is Your Name? radio drama took an initial cue from Waterloo Bridge by opening in wartime: its protagonists, Haruki Atomiya and Machiko Ujiie, meet amid the 1945 Tokyo firebombings; taking refuge in the same shelter and immediately smitten with one another, they promise to meet again in six months, choosing a bridge (Sukiyabashi, in the Ginza District) as their rendezvous point. After Japan’s surrender to the Allied Powers,11 Machiko’s summoned to Sado Island by an uncle wishing to marry her off and thus misses her appointment with Atomiya. Upon finding out Machiko’s unhappily betrothed, Atomiya follows the “weak man” formula by passively wishing her the best. Alas, circumstances keep drawing the couple together; and while they never commit adultery, the deep love between them is all too apparent to those determined to keep them apart. Mixed with this central narrative are subplots involving poverty and the sex trade, domestic clashes between housewives and domineering mothers-in-law, and rising modernity in a nation under western influence. Only after Machiko has suffered heartbreak and bad health is she reunited with her love for good. (Not the result of any initiative on Atomiya’s part; simply because those standing in their way at last allow them to be together.)
The melancholic melodrama of What Is Your Name?
What Is Your Name? started broadcasting on April 10, 1952 (mere weeks before the end of the Occupation) and quickly exploded into a sensation. Running on NHK every Thursday from 8:30-9:00 p.m., it proved so popular that the women’s’ side of public bathhouses emptied during airtime. In the provincial city of Kiryu, Gunma Prefecture, a farmer named Tsutomo Ono surveyed twenty-five women of various ages and backgrounds (factory workers, office girls, housewives) and found all but one had listened to the show. Ono’s wife, herself employed in one of the city’s many textile factories, noted that colleagues stopped their machines whenever What Is Your Name? came on—even though it meant a loss of income, as they were paid on a piece rate basis. (“Since I knew the poverty of these workers,” wrote Ono, “I was surprised at the attraction of the radio drama.”) In another factory, employees reported for work at 4 a.m., which allowed them to return home early and listen in.12
As Ono discovered, listeners had various reasons to take interest in this particular melodrama. Young, unmarried women were drawn to the platonic romance: “[I]t might happen to anyone.” “All of us heard the program as if we were Machiko.” Housewives, by contrast, were “deeply interested” in the tension between Machiko and the aggressive mother-in-law who later regrets driving her away: “It is a good teacher for our married life.” “I am a mother-in-law and want to have a pleasant home, so I want to hear that sort of drama.” The men Ono surveyed generally expressed no interest in the show, declaring it “nonsense,” although those who’d listened with their wives confessed: “It is not so bad.”13
Secondary storylines are also worth considering in deciphering the show’s appeal. For while Atomiya and Machiko survive the war seemingly without consequence — they always have well-off friends or comfortable homes to run to — other characters are hindered by the aftermath of wartime devastation. Atomiya’s companions include a former soldier caught smuggling; a pan-pan girl left with a child of mixed heritage; a sister who is mistaken for a streetwalker and arrested. Per the editors of Weekly Asahi History of the Showa Period, it was the depiction of postwar suffering and the chaste romance, together, that struck a chord with listeners. “[The secondary] characters in the story, due to war, are all burdened with an unhappy past. The sad circumstances of these characters aroused great sympathy and people centered their compassion on them, but at the same time, the love between Haruki and Machiko […] appear more beautiful than possible in a world such as this.”14 Tsutomo Ono offered the following summary in his study: “[A]s seen from the responses, admiration for beauty and purity still remains. […] The people in this story are […] figures familiar to everyone.”15 Widespread, devoted audiences resulted in What Is Your Name? breaking records with a rating of 49%.16
IMPACT
Immense popularity resulted in cross-platform adaptation: the radio show was converted first into a bestselling book and was soon after sold to the movies. Shochiku topped The Compassionate Buddha Tree’s box office record when they adapted What Is Your Name? into a trilogy of motion pictures — released from September 1953 to April 1954. These movies followed the radio drama faithfully, with few deviations, and per one estimate drew in an audience equal to one third of the nation’s total populace. (Tsutomo Ono’s study documents impoverished factory workers paying 2-3 days’ wages on taxi fare to get to the theater.)17
The film trilogy also unleashed a commercialism synergy that even the radio drama had been unable to produce. A popular album was made from the movies’ theme song (itself recycled from the radio show and featuring background music by Yuji Koseki, who assumed scoring responsibilities on all three films and, later, Ishiro Honda’s 1961 fantasy Mothra). The two leads’ wardrobes became lucrative clothing items: Japanese stores stockpiled “Haruki pants” for men, and millions of women scrambled to get their own “Machiko stole,” a head garment worn in the films by actress Keiko Kishi. The latter accessory was even exported to Korea, despite audiences there not having seen any of the What Is Your Name? films. Additional items in the “Machiko” brand included bathrobes, bathing suits, kimono, neckties, even non-clothing items such as pencils, perfume, harmonicas, and chinaware.18
As tour companies escorted clientele to filming locations across Japan, profits from the movies and tie-in merchandise allowed Shochiku to modernize and re-equip its production facilities—as well as establish the Shochiku Motion Picture Science Institute for the purpose of improving technical efficiency.19 And behind the scenes, a number of careers were boosted by the trilogy’s success. To begin with, there was vice president Shiro Kido. One of the key figures in the history of Japanese cinema, Kido had been instrumental in resuscitating Shochiku’s Kamata studio after the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923; his guidance also helped shape the genre shomin-geki (films about the lives of the lower middle class) into its recognizable form.20 Because of his cooperation with Japan’s wartime government — which included taking credit for an article in the 1939 Film Law mandating the showing of culture films in moviehouses21 — Kido was recommended for permanent industry expulsion by the Occupation.22 The banishment only lasted until 1950, and following the immense profits of What Is Your Name?, Kido reached his career peak. Despite his having no direct involvement in the trilogy’s production, its success elevated him to the role of company president.23
Director Hideo Oba had been an established filmmaker since 1939, his past efforts including the thriller Woman in the Midst of the Typhoon (1948) and The Bells of Nagasaki (1951), one of few Occupation-era Japanese movies to address the atomic bomb.24 Despite being saddled with a contrivance-riddled story on What Is Your Name?, Oba turned out three watchable pictures through smooth guidance of the actors and — with assistance from cinematographer Takeshi Saito — a striking visual flair. He would continue directing until his retirement in the late ‘60s; meanwhile, What Is Your Name? launched his two stars to fame. Keiko Kishi, who plays Machiko, in particular, formed an impressive subsequent career in pictures such as Yasujiro Ozu’s Early Spring (1956), Sydney Pollack’s The Yakuza (1974), and several films directed by Masaki Kobayashi. Co-star Keiji Sada, perfectly cast as Atomiya, became one of Japan’s most in-demand male stars and maintained his popularity until his death in a car wreck in 1964.
Star-crossed lovers.
ANALYSIS
Aside from its historical importance in Japanese commercial entertainment, What Is Your Name? is most fascinating as a time capsule. Amid the story’s contrivances and unrelenting sentiment emerge interesting glimpses of postwar Japan. In a scene set in 1948, a middle-aged woman remarks that she hasn’t seen a Kabuki play in several years. While the script doesn’t elaborate on historical context, this line of dialogue has basis in reality. Classic Kabuki had been temporarily outlawed by the Occupation—due to frequent subjects of feudalism and revenge; however, the red tape was partially alleviated in the late ‘40s (when the above mentioned scene takes place) thanks to Faubion Bowers, an aide to General Douglas MacArthur — and fan of Kabuki — who transferred to the theater censorship division and negotiated leeway for the genre.25
As mentioned earlier, much of the story transpires amid the ruins of devastated Tokyo, secondary narrative threads focusing on those struggling through day-to-day existence. Atomiya’s sister, in the radio version, was merely mistaken for a streetwalker and arrested; in the films she is manipulated into visiting what appears to be a respectable employment office — and is instead trapped into the sex trade. Another subplot follows the pan-pan girl carrying the child of an American soldier — and the resultant prejudice from society. At one point, the kid is injured in an auto accident and a passenger in a nearby car, upon learning of the child’s heritage, merely comments “What a bother!” An earlier scene features bureaucrats debating Japan’s “need” to maintain racial purity. (“There’s something wrong with women who give birth to mixed race children.” To which Atomiya replies by pointing out the Japanese race’s origins as a mix of different ethnicities.) The script promotes compassion for people deemed lower on the “respectability” scale: understanding characters give respectable jobs to both the sister and the pan-pan girl; later, our weak-willed hero captures the heart of an Ainu girl, who is presented as a tragic figure — though the script fails to delve into the historical discrimination this indigenous group has faced.
While assuming an ostensibly progressive outlook, What Is Your Name?’s attitude toward modernity is rather two-sided: supporting the notion of marrying for love, but sympathetic for older generations under threat from social change, even questioning those who’ve embraced westernization to a radical extreme. In 1898, the Meiji Civil Code described an ideal Japanese family system as “strengthened by such Confucian precepts as filial obligation [and one that] privileged the elderly.” However, as a result of the Occupation’s wish to “democratize” Japan, this came to be replaced by the Civil Code of 1948: the new promoted direction for the Japanese was “the dignity of the individual, equality of the sexes, and high regard for offspring.”26 In the late 1940s and early ‘50s, more and more young Japanese sought lives of total independence upon reaching adulthood, the previous generation in effect being left to fend for itself. (A popular book in the 1950s was even titled Children Who Do Not Look After Their Parents.)27 This phenomenon appears in What Is Your Name?, with Machiko’s mother-in-law representing the victim and a highly westernized Japanese woman the aggressor.
A frequent negative stereotype in 1920s and ‘30s Japanese media was the modan garu (“modern girl”): typically represented as a free spirit clad in Occidental clothing. This stereotype reappears in What Is Your Name?, updated to represent the extreme independence felt among many young Japanese. Machiko’s husband plans to remarry: to a westernized Japanese girl outspoken in her intent on living with just her husband, in a “small but very modern” home. (“If we have to be mindful of each other,” the fiancée says in explaining why she won’t co-exist with parents, “then we can’t really enjoy life. […] That’s my first condition for marriage.”) When the mother-in-law, fearful of spending the rest of her days in loneliness, broaches the subject with her son, he openly blames her for driving away Machiko who, despite being trapped in a passionless marriage, sincerely tried to make everyone happy. Realizing this, she then journeys to Kyushu to find Machiko and tearfully begs her to return home. She ends up bedridden and nursed back to health by the daughter she mistreated and willingly returns home without her. Though she’s no longer in danger, as her son’s given up on remarriage; and both now realize the emotional suffering they put Machiko through, wishing her to find happiness with Atomiya instead. Only then does the husband grant Machiko the divorce she needs to be with the man she loves.
Throughout this long saga, the Occupation authorities are mentioned on occasion but never shown or outright villainized; the struggle presented is one among the Japanese as they adapt to new situations. Author Kazuo Kikuta, in describing his original radio drama, said: “In the provinces there are many people who are still suffering under traditional thought and customs. I hope they will not have to endure an unhappy married life like Machiko’s.” And yet, as we have seen through his characters — the weak-willed man, the endlessly suffering love interest, the feudalistic mother-in-law regretting her ways, the outspoken westernized girl — What Is Your Name? doesn’t support extreme modernization as a solution. As rightly noted in Tsutomo Ono’s study, the two leads are “neither extremely traditional nor extremely progressive,”28 too passive to shape their own destiny, achieving happiness when it’s given to them. (From the beginning, the characters actively campaigning for Atomiya and Machiko’s union were their friends — the people eking out a day-to-day living — and the ones who ultimately grant leniency are those who’ve dispensed with feudal ways.) And from that perspective, the mawkish and dewy-eyed What Is Your Name? is rather fascinating: an old-fashioned Japanese melodrama updated within the context of modern times.
References and further reading:
In addition to greater interest in reconstruction efforts, General Douglas MacArthur, the official in charge of the Occupation, deemed television an unnecessary luxury item inappropriate for a destitute nation. Source: Partner, Simon. Assembled in Japan: Electrical Goods and the Making of the Japanese Consumer. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999, pp. 72-3
One also finds a plethora of “sick girl love stories” from South Korea, and specific films in this subgenre have been remade between Japan and Korea. For instance: Isao Yukisada’s Crying Out Love, in the Center of the World (2004) became Jeon Yun-su’s My Girl and I (2011).
Anderson, Joseph L. and Donald Richie. The Japanese Film: Art and Industry (Expanded Edition). Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982, p. 261
A major figure in 20th century Japanese theater, Kikuta staged Japanese versions of musicals such as My Fair Lady, Fiddler on the Roof, and Man of La Mancha. He also wrote the 1966 musical Scarlett—based on Margaret Mitchell’s novel Gone with the Wind—whose first production was performed by Toho’s theatrical division (Kikuta had been its managing director since 1955). Scarlett has since been translated and performed in other nations. Source: “Kazuo Kikuta, 65, Playwright And Producer, Led Toho Troupe.” The New York Times, 6 April 1973
What Is Your Name? appears to have been primarily influenced by the 1940 version of Waterloo Bridge, which opened in the midst of war and continued in peacetime—whereas the 1931 version and the original stage play began and ended in World War I.
Anderson and Richie, p. 261; Ono, Tsutomo. “An Analysis of Kimi No Wa (What Is Your Name?) A Serial Radio Drama” in Japanese Popular Culture: Studies in Mass Communication and Cultural Change, pp. 151-164
It is worth noting, however, that The Bells of Nagasaki wasn’t allowed to be filmed until after revisions ordered by the Occupation censors. The film’s source book, too, had been subjected to censorship prior to release. Source: Hirano, Kyoko. Mr. Smith Goes to Tokyo: Japanese Cinema Under the American Occupation, 1945-1952. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1992, pp. 63-6
Ibid, p. 66
Desser, David (ed.). Ozu’s Tokyo Story. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997, p. 31
There’s something about LUMP’s 2018 self-titled debut that could only be described as “uncanny”. Submerged in the electronic swamp of Mike Lindsay’s production, Laura Marling’s versatile voice invoked a sense of strange familiarity; self-aware yet empathetic, her lyrics seemed to detach themselves from the outside world while actively peering through it. What was once billed as a one-off project has now returned with its second LP, which finds the pair diving headfirst into the uncanny valley. As with their first album, Animal’s most intriguing moment arrives on the final track, when Marling lists off the album credits – this time ending, rather than beginning, with the declarative “LUMP is a product,” which repeats like the final image of a recurring dream, or the first words you jot down half-awake in an attempt to capture it.
It’s a statement that carries a similar weight, but whose significance varies in the context of the new album. While LUMP was inspired by surrealism and the absurdist poetry of Edward Lear and Ivor Cutler, Animal approaches questions of the self, art, and desire through the lens of psychoanalysis. The general tone of the record, at times cold and clinical, deftly mirrors this intellectual shift, with Marling’s withdrawn vocals floating above Lindsay’s taut, simmering grooves. But what animates this dynamic is that both forces are only an odd step away from disintegrating into a more fluid structure and entering the realm of the unconscious, as they do on the title track, prompted by the question, “Do you remember?” Marling has said recording with LUMP is like “putting on a superhero costume,” and on the serpentine ‘Paradise’, she seems to assume the role of the analyst: “A child in you lives because/ It’s something you feel/ Unbearable though it seems/ This is the shape of dreams/ Bent to a wheel.” Yet her delivery is all too human, imbuing the song with a warm melancholy.
Animal was recorded while Marling was also working on her seventh studio album, Song for Our Daughter, and reuniting with Lindsay was a chance for the singer-songwriter to not only escape her own persona but also experiment with free-associative writing. These songs aren’t necessarily meant to make sense, but at times there seems to be such a gap between Marling’s original thought process and the final, well, product, that tracks like ‘Gamma Ray’ and ‘Climb Every Wall’ fail to resonate on a narrative level. Musically, though, both are fine examples of the duo’s remarkable chemistry: the ghostly echo that underpins Marling’s lead vocal on ‘Climb Every Wall’ subtly transforms the whole song, while Lindsay’s instrumentation opens up beautifully to the melody of the chorus on ‘Gamma Ray’.
It’s this feeling of openness that shines on the album’s most striking moments, where Marling’s poetry combines the abstract and the personal. The language on opener ‘Bloom At Night’ remains ambiguous, but when the track hits its magnificent peak – “Those who find themselves acclaimed/ Go to God to get renamed/ It took one god seven days to go insane” – it suggests a profound conflict at the heart of the album, one it both explores and steps away from. The pensive piano ballad ‘Red Snakes’ contains some of Marling’s most evocative lyrics; standing “in a pool full of red snakes,” she longs for the distant past: “At the mount of ancient song/ Where you grieve for what is gone/ A thousand hands, countless plans/ And youth,” she sings, the final word fading out slowly. The song is rife with symbolic imagery, but its power lies in pure emotion.
Animal leaves you with the sense that LUMP is in constant conversation with itself as an entity, and it’s true that it revisits more than builds on the themes of its predecessor. But the natural interplay between the two artists makes that dialogue feel nuanced and, at the very least, interesting. The album may lack the hypnotic energy of, say, Hildegard, the recent collaborative project of electronic artist Ouri and singer-songwriter Helena Deland, or even LUMP’s own previous effort, but there’s also a level of playfulness here that can’t be overlooked, which leads to such infectious highlights as ‘We Cannot Resist’. Once again, LUMP have taken a familiar shape and twisted it into something beguiling.
Billie Eilish
Jack Antonoff
Torres
LUMP
Great Big Wild Oak
Chattanooga rapper 
Poise
Yola
Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter, guitarist, and producer 
