Album Review: 離別 by 李成愛 – A Raw, Unfiltered Punch to the Gut
Alright, let’s cut the crap. If you’re looking for some polished K-pop nonsense or bubblegum J-Pop fluff, this ain’t it. 離別 (or Ibyol, if you wanna get technical) by 李成愛 is a gut-wrenching dive into raw emotion and nostalgia that hits like a freight train. Released in 1977 under Toshiba Records (and later Toshiba EMI), this album is dripping with Enka vibes and Kayōkyoku grit. It feels like stepping into a smoky bar in Osaka where everyone’s drowning their sorrows but somehow finding beauty in the pain.
Now, I gotta talk about two tracks that stuck with me like gum on a hot summer sidewalk—because they’re just THAT good.
First up: “涙の釜山港” (Tears of Busan Port). Holy hell, this one grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. The melody? Haunting. The lyrics? Devastating. You can almost smell the saltwater and regret wafting off this track. It’s not just sad—it’s angry-sad, like someone screaming at the universe for screwing them over. And yeah, maybe I got a little misty-eyed listening to it, but don’t tell anyone. This song sticks with you because it’s real. No frills, no gimmicks—just pure, unfiltered heartbreak.
Then there’s “昭和枯れすすき” (Showa Withered Pampas Grass). What even IS this title? Sounds like something outta a samurai movie, right? But damn, does it deliver. The slow build-up kills me every time—the way the strings creep in before exploding into this massive wave of melancholy. It’s like watching an old black-and-white photo fade away while someone tells you stories about love lost and dreams crushed. By the end, you’re left sitting there thinking, “Wait…was I crying?” Yeah, buddy, you were.
And look, I know what you’re thinking: “Why should I care about some obscure Japanese album from the ‘70s?” Here’s why—you NEED to hear stuff like this once in a while. Not everything has to be TikTok-friendly earworms or bass-heavy EDM drops. Sometimes music needs to hurt a little. Needs to remind us we’re alive.
Oh, and here’s the kicker—this record was released on three different labels. Three! Like nobody could figure out who owned what, so they just slapped it everywhere. Feels kinda punk rock when you think about it. Screw the system, man!
So yeah, give 離別 a spin if you’re brave enough. Just don’t blame me if it ruins your day—in the best possible way.