While I was writing about “Korea’s Madonna”, mentally, my mind going elsewhere, as well, thinking about that other Madonna: the late, great, Minako Honda. Putting myself, mentally in their shoes, I kept thinking about how as a young woman (especially of that ‘80s era) all the nonsense they must have gone through to simply: a) be a creative human and b) exist in a world pushing them to fit all sorts of molds, must have taken herculean inner strength to get through. It’s why I have to revisit Minako Honda’s Oversea (オーヴァーシー).
Released in 1987, Oversea (オーヴァーシー), came fresh off the heels of what would be nearly any other artist’s pinnacle. You see, early that year, somewhere in England, Minako Honda was in the studio working on a single with Brian May – yes, that Brian May. At the height of Queen’s ‘80s cultural cache, there in London, Brian and Minako were crafting a sort of thank you to her Japanese fans. Just 20 years old, Minako had achieved some rarefied air that no Japanese pop idol, at least one that I can think of, had ever reached.
Yet, Minako (ever her own muse) switched-on. Now was her time to do something different. Once again when her fanbase expected something, Minako went her own way.
Minako couldn’t have been faulted for staying the course. As one of Japan’s leading aidoru, Minako was fresh off a headlining tour which culminated with a live recording at the storied Budokan. She had a lot to lose and most would have done more of the same but most aren’t like Minako.
As large in spirit (as she was small in stature), Tokyo-born, Minako Honda followed in the footsteps of her mother, a singer herself. Minako’s introduction to the music business began in her teens, discovered by a talent scout in Harajuku looking to start a girl group, but ending up promoting her as the solo act. Just as quickly, what would become a problematic feature of that early Japanese idol scene came to be.
Trading on her “virgin” looks, Minako’s management promoted her as some kind of enka pop starlet with the accompanying photoshoots, fan service, and persona to match. On stage, at that moment, for such a young singer, her stage image appealed to the older, Showa-era crowd. However, in the music, as on her semi-successful M’シンドローム and seen in her other creative outlets, you could feel that Minako was itching to do more “else”.
Minako was graced with a remarkable singing voice but felt beholden to earlier enka influences. In 1986, pushed by her record label head to listen to more “Western” music and to take stock of what artists like Madonna were doing and how ingénues like Marylin Monroe carried themselves. Minako would be put through dance classes and a harder-nosed/sexier sound would be introduced on リップス. It was this transformation towards a more “mature” image that began rocketing her toward stardom, culminating further that year with Cancel, her star-making turn that would feature musicians like Gary Moore, Dire Straits’ Guy Fletcher, and Nick Beggs and Limahl from Kajagoogoo.
That turn to multi-hyphenate New Wave rocker would lead Minako to enter the orbit of Queen. It was while recording Cancel in London that she was invited to a Queen concert in Frankfurt, Germany. Upon her return to Japan, she’d go on to cover Freddie Mercury’s “I Was Born To Love You” at her Budokan concert, a fact that would build her connection to Queen’s Brian May who caught wind of it and invited Minako to collaborate and record the single, “Crazy Night” with him. Nevertheless, unbeknownst to her fans, Minako’s two album turn as a new kind of idol had run its course. Minako had the benefit of youth at that time. It’s what spurred her to take advantage of another chance meeting to change her focal point.
It was in 1987, as well, when performing for a benefit concert in Tokyo for the Bond Project, she encountered and befriended members of the Jackson family who were in the country to promote Latoya Jackson. It was the infamous Joe Jackson who convinced Minako to come to America and record at Michael Jackson’s estate studio. Minako, ever the chameleon (or sponge), headed to L.A. and embarked on what would be her most daring record yet.
Diving knee-deep into electro funk and soul music, Minako (together with producers John Wilson and songwriter Gail Johnson) chose to touch on the urban music missing in her palette of musical colors. Singing entirely in English, Minako challenged herself to explore the more adult and expressive side of her emotions. Backed by the “Tower Of Power” horn section, John held nothing back to help Minako create the heady R&B she was after.
In hindsight, we should feel privileged to hear something like Oversea (オーヴァーシー). In the increasingly desolate hellscape that was mid ‘80s MTV, few crossover R&B singers (other than MJ) held any kind of cache to breakthrough wider audiences – yet, here was this, obviously, searching, young Japanese singer heading exactly that direction (fame be damned). She could have introduced herself in English by mimicking Cindy Lauper or other more known “white” acts but Minako didn’t shy away from another audience.
Much like the divine Lady T, Teena Marie, her closest analog on this record, the arrangements are fiery and the singing is equally up to measure. Songs like “Sneak Away” come from the school of Minneapolis funk, riding a beat made for sweat soaked dance floors. Others like “Let’s Start Again” are pitch-perfect slow jams tailor-made for Minako to glide over. What’s most surprising about this album are tracks like “That’s The Way I Want It” where little niche grooves – freestyle in this case – are explored, and Mika rises to each occasion to land exactly the tone necessary to carry these impeccably-produced dance rhythms. Even the sweet asides like “Girl Talk” capture a certain something about herself.
Full of fully-earned hip shake swagger, on Oversea (オーヴァーシー) Minako was finally of that generational break other aidoru like Akina Nakamori and Kyoko Koizumi were trying to achieve. If you steal away and take a look at her live performances after this release, what you see is an evolution into her own as an artist, one who found her vocabulary (even if it took a different language to verbalize it). If we step back and try not to overthink it, it’s all there on yet another scorching hot track from the album, “Plaything”. When looking for “a love that’s real” the last thing you want is a plaything. And for me, there’s lots to love here.
One response
Para mi este es mi álbum favorito de Minako Honda , ella fue una de las mejores cantantes