that foreign music blog🌎

Hey-yo~ So recently I’ve been really into singer/songwriter ‘Yuuri’, or 優里, and have been listening to his album 壱(いち/ ee-chee) or “One” nonstop. Based on what I’ve read on Weblio, rather than the more well-known “一 (いち/ee-chee)”, which is the kanji for the numeric “one”, “壱” means “one” in the sense of unity. (Edit: I went to a traditional Japanese inn and the shoe box lockers used very old kanji. Coincidentally I used the ‘One’ box and it used this 壱 kanji. My friend said that it’s a very old way to write the number and that no one uses it anymore.). Given how Yuuri often writes love songs, it comes as no surprise that he’d go for the more dramatic nuance. Jokes aside, it really does match well with the layers of messages and sounds Yuuri puts into each song, quite literally creating a harmony that reflects the album title ‘One’.

An example of this is in his song ‘花鳥風月’ (かちょうふうげつ)/( kah-chou-huu-geh-tsu )

Each separate kanji translates to “Flower, Bird, Wind, Moon”, but refers to the beauties of nature as a whole word. The song initially sounds somewhat angry with its upbeat tempo and strong tone, as if the speaker is tired of his lover’s nonsense and is moving on. While this interpretation wasn’t totally off the mark, as the lyrics tell a story of seeking freedom to go one’s own way, the anger–or perhaps frustration –expressed in the song isn’t directed at a lover, but at society. The speaker doesn’t want to live like everyone else–based on what I can understand.

What caught me off guard was the rhythmic ‘aa’ that Yuuri repeats over and over. Busy listening to the song on my way to class, of course, I hadn’t had a chance to stare at every lyric on my phone, and certainly didn’t think that the “嗚呼” I kept catching sight of was the ‘aah’ part.

Yes, you read that correctly.

This…THIS “嗚呼” is simply read as the onomatopoeic ‘aa’. I quickly asked my teacher “WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE” and she explained that it’s a kanji that’s actually often used in songs. However, its usage entails a kind of fresh, youthfulness. It’s not JUST a sound but is also tied to the imagery of perseverance. Coincidentally, the lyrics read in the first verse:

“嗚呼
(aah)

息苦しいよな呼吸を我慢して
(Endure it like you can’t breathe)

嗚呼
(aah)”

I wonder if 嗚呼 could be said to hold a similar nuance to ‘huff and puff’.

My teacher added that it gives the song a kind of nostalgic feeling, and the song does in fact have an early two-thousands vibe with its backing arpeggios against a synth board and clapping effects. For this reason, it really stood out to me from the rest of the songs on the album and had me playing it on repeat for several days.

To end, in discovering ‘嗚呼’, my teacher opened the conversation about how fascinating it is that the meaning of a song can change once you look at the kanji of the lyrics. As a native English speaker, this can be likened to words that are spelled in weird ways on purpose or using numbers, like ‘2’ in place of ‘too’.

I’ve never been an enemy of kanji, but this might’ve been the first time I really felt like I appreciated its variety and complexity. Yes, it’s a pain to learn and sometimes a complete eyesore, but Yuuri’s simple ‘嗚呼’ really opened my eyes to just how many ways Japanese people use kanji. It’s actually really beautiful.