Album Review: 人として by 海援隊 – A Timeless Slice of Japanese Pop Magic
Let’s get one thing straight: 人として (translated roughly as “As a Human”) isn’t just another album from the ‘80s. It’s like flipping through an old photo album your grandma keeps in her attic—nostalgic, raw, and kinda hauntingly beautiful. Released in 1980 under Polydor Japan, this gem blends pop with stage-and-screen vibes, delivering tracks that feel more like stories than songs. And trust me, once you dive into it, you’ll understand why it still resonates.
The opening track, 人として, hits hard right outta the gate. The melody feels warm but tinged with something bittersweet, like sipping coffee on a rainy morning. 武田鉄矢’s lyrics are where the magic happens—he writes about humanity, struggles, and hope without being cheesy or over-the-top. You can tell he means every word. Paired with 千葉和臣’s music arrangements, it’s got this cinematic vibe that sticks to your brain long after the song ends. Honestly? This track feels less like listening to music and more like overhearing someone pour their soul out at a late-night diner.
Then there’s 遠い祭り (“Distant Festival”), which is... wow. Just wow. If the first track is introspective, this one is pure emotion bottled up and shaken until it bursts. 中牟田俊男 steps in here with some killer arrangement choices—you can almost picture lanterns swaying against a dark sky while listening. The tempo shifts subtly throughout, keeping you hooked. I don’t know how they pulled it off, but somehow, it makes you ache for memories you didn’t even realize you had. Like, yeah, maybe I’ve never been to a distant festival, but dang if this song doesn’t convince me I have.
One thing that stands out about the whole album is its production team. 黒木照美 and 新田美昭 clearly knew what they were doing when they brought everyone together. Even the cover art—courtesy of 村井勉—has this minimalist charm that screams early ‘80s Japan without trying too hard. And let’s not forget 大村雅朗 and 佐孝康夫’s arrangements; they give each side of the record its own personality. Side A leans into reflective themes, while Side B feels more celebratory yet wistful. It’s like two halves of the same heart beating slightly out of sync.
So, would I recommend 人として? Absolutely. But not because it’s perfect—it’s messy in all the right ways. Listening to it feels like catching a glimpse of humanity itself: flawed, heartfelt, and unforgettable.
And hey, fun fact: if aliens ever invade Earth and ask us to explain what it means to be human, I’d hand them this album. They might not understand Japanese, but I think they’d get the gist.
