Album Review: National Music Of Japan Koto Vol 2 by Souha Nakamura
If you're into music that feels like stepping into another time and place, National Music Of Japan Koto Vol 2 is a gem worth exploring. Released in 1965 by the legendary Souha Nakamura, this album falls right into the Folk, World, & Country genre, but honestly, it’s so much more than just a genre tag. It's like a portal to traditional Japan, with Nakamura’s koto strings weaving stories that feel both ancient and alive.
The record came out under Crown Records, and as far as I can tell, it’s got all the hallmarks of Japanese artistry—subtle, intricate, and deeply evocative. The whole thing is carried by Nakamura herself on the koto, which is basically a string instrument that sounds like water flowing over smooth stones if water could talk. And trust me, once you hear it, you won’t forget it anytime soon.
Now let’s get into some tracks because, honestly, there are too many good ones to cover them all. First up, “Hana no U ta” (yeah, I know, it’s a mouthful). This one sticks with me because it starts off super gentle, almost like someone humming to themselves while they work. Then, halfway through, the rhythm shifts ever so slightly—it’s not dramatic or anything, but it gives you this little jolt, like spotting a flower blooming in an unexpected corner. By the end, you’re left wondering how something so simple can hit so hard.
Another standout track is “Kawabe No Ame.” Man, this one feels like rain trickling down your windowpane during a quiet evening. There’s a melancholy vibe to it, but not the kind that drags you down. Instead, it’s reflective, like those moments when you sit back and think about life without spiraling into existential dread. The melody loops around itself in this hypnotic way, making it perfect for late-night listening or zoning out after a long day.
One thing that struck me about this album is how unpretentious it feels. You won’t find flashy production tricks or attempts to modernize the sound—it’s pure, raw tradition. And yet, it doesn’t feel dated at all. If anything, it reminds you how timeless simplicity can be.
As for the rest of the tracks? Well, titles like “Saga no Aki” and “Tasogare” might not roll off the tongue easily, but each piece adds its own flavor to the mix. Whether it’s the playful bounce of “Kodomo no Tameno Kyosokyoku” or the somber beauty of “Aki no Kyoku,” every song has a personality of its own.
Here’s the kicker though—at first glance, this album seems niche, maybe even a bit intimidating if you’re unfamiliar with Japanese folk music. But give it a chance, and you’ll realize it transcends cultural barriers. Honestly, listening to it feels less like entertainment and more like having a conversation with history.
And hey, here’s a random thought to leave you with: isn’t it wild how a single stringed instrument can make you feel things words never could? Like, who needs lyrics when you’ve got Nakamura’s fingers dancing across the koto, telling stories better than any poet ever could? Check this one out—you won’t regret it.
