Writing about music can often be a frustrating endeavor, especially as a layperson. I can go on about the history of specific works and the careers of their makers easily, but analysis never feels right. The usual route of looking through artist interviews falls flat when so many don't know music theory either, and do much of their work on gut feeling alone.
Gut feeling is what most dictates my music tastes as well. Lyrics are often secondary and chord progressions unnoticed, but melodies and the specific sounds of instruments are what truly grab me. Often I gravitate to acts that craft a specific sound image, but here I am faced with somebody who excelled on that front, yet most of what I heard did not resonate.
The search for info on a specific Japanese new wave act often leads to awareness of many others from the scene; the web of collaborations between everybody is full of nodes and links. One performer I discovered this way was Mimori Yusa, whose early discography I gave a try, on a lark.
Her first album, 瞳水晶 [Hitomi Suisho | Crystal/Quartz Eye], has not just strong songwriting and arrangements, but also this lovely "fairy tale" sound, with an equilibrium between synth ensemble and acoustic/electric instruments. It didn't get to my core, but it was a strong enough first showing to lead me into hearing six other albums of hers.
Unfortunately, I walked down a road of diminishing returns. At least half of the second, 空耳の丘 [Soramimi on the Hill], held up well, with 窓を開けた時 as her potential best song of hers. But the subsequent ones just felt like a slog, with the occasional standout track.
That dip roughly tracks with the personnel behind each release. 瞳水晶 had Shinobu Narita—who wrote and recorded one of, if not the, greatest song I've ever heard—as arranger/sound producer, on top of writing two songs. He was a diminished presence on Soramimi on the Hill, though the one song he contributed isn't a standout. That album also featured bassist Nobuo Nakahara, who stands out as one of the better songwriters for Yapoos, and he got further involved on her third through fifth albums, but nothing he did stood out compared to others involved. Through all of them, a key shaper was Takafumi Sotoma, who composed most of the songs (most of which did not stand out) and co-produced every album. I'm not familiar with his work beyond these to comment on what exactly he brought or could have done differently, however. I was caught by surprise when her fourth album Hope had collaborations with a latter Phil Judd band; I'm quite fond of Split Enz but hadn't checked what else their members made.
Yusa is the kind of artist with multiple phases exploring different kinds of styles. Once I was through all of her "fairy tale" era, I gave a shot to two further albums, on the recommendation of reryo (Japanese guy who's reviewed oodles of Japanese technopop albums on his blog): the drum-less collaboration with anime/film compter Yuji Nomi momoism, and the Japanese + European late '90s electronic heavy Acacia. Once again, while the overall sound of each one is interesting, something about it them didn't click with me, despite multiple spins.
And its not like this material has limited appeal to me. There were other "fantasy pop" artists active in Japan at the time: I've liked what I heard from Yoko Ueno, and Susumu Hirasawa's The Double of Wind has so many similarities with her own Destination arrangement-wise (sans Robert Fripp-esque guitar the man himself could have easily replicated) I'm hard pressed to deny potential influence.
In one sense I guess I am disappointed that something is missing, especially for an artist like Yusa who seems to always go for a defined vision. But on the other, I'm more perplexed at my inability to recognize and articulate what that something is, exactly.