George Yanagi’s “Rainywood”: A Pop-Rock Time Capsule from 1989 Japan
Let’s cut to the chase—George Yanagi’s Rainywood is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. Released in 1989 under Bourbon Records, this Japanese pop-rock gem feels like a forgotten postcard from an era when big hair and bigger emotions ruled the airwaves. It’s not perfect, but it’s got heart—and man, does it have hooks.
Now, I’ll be honest: with 12 tracks to sift through, some songs hit harder than others. But two really stuck with me after giving this album a spin (or three). First off, there’s “微笑の法則～スマイル・オン・ミー” (“The Rule of Smiling ~ Smile On Me”). This track kicks things off with a punchy guitar riff and Yanagi’s voice dripping with swagger. The melody is catchy as heck, bouncing between upbeat verses and a chorus so bright it could power a small city. You know how sometimes a song just feels like summer? That’s this one. It’s impossible not to hum along—even if you don’t speak Japanese.
Then there’s “雨に泣いている・・・” (“Crying in the Rain…”), which flips the vibe entirely. If “Smile On Me” is sunshine, this one’s more like standing under gray skies watching raindrops race down your windowpane. The lyrics are melancholy without being over-the-top dramatic, and the instrumentation has this dreamy, almost cinematic quality. There’s something about the way Yanagi sings here—it’s raw, vulnerable, like he’s letting you peek into his diary for three minutes. Tracks like this remind me why music can feel so personal, even decades later.
Of course, no album is flawless, and Rainywood has its share of filler moments too. Songs like “ＦＥＮＣＥの向こうのアメリカ” (“America Beyond the Fence”) or “酔って候” (“Drunk Again”) aren’t bad per se—they just don’t leave much of a mark compared to the standouts. Still, they add texture to the overall mood, keeping things varied enough to keep listeners engaged.
What makes Rainywood special isn’t just its blend of pop sensibilities and rock grit; it’s also how unapologetically Japanese it feels. While Western influences are undeniable (hello, sax solos!), Yanagi infuses everything with a distinct cultural flavor that sets it apart from other albums of the time. And let’s not sleep on the production values—Bourbon Records clearly put effort into making sure every note popped out of your speakers.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Rainywood today feels kinda bittersweet. On one hand, it’s nostalgic as all get-out—a snapshot of late ‘80s Japan frozen in time. On the other, it makes me wonder why gems like this don’t get more love outside their home turf. Sure, we’ve got K-pop dominating global charts now, but what about these older treasures? Maybe it’s time someone dusted them off and gave them another shot at the spotlight.
So yeah, give Rainywood a listen if you’re into discovering hidden musical gems—or if you just wanna hear what happens when pop meets rock meets a whole lotta soul. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself humming “Smile On Me” while stuck in traffic. Trust me, it happens.
