It’s 1982, and you’re strutting through cosmopolitan Tokyo on a warm summer night. The reflection of neon-lit skyrises glare off the sidewalks. What’s playing on your Sony Walkman? There’s only one acceptable answer, and it’s City Pop. 

In the 70s and 80s, Japan experienced a dramatic rise in economic wealth known as the “bubble era”. Japan’s market value, specifically prices of assets,  escalated quickly and created an unsustainable boom that was destined to burst. A musical genre emerged, with a distinctively funky and euphonic sound that celebrated the nation's newfound prosperity and economic success. The subgenre, coined “City Pop”, formed a Japanese identity in modern pop music during a time when people were eager to live lavishly. 

Beneath the glitz and glamour of it all, City Pop was pioneered by artists who broke free of cultural norms, incorporating a fusion of funk, disco, adult-oriented music (AOR), exotica, and lounge into their music. While the genre is often dismissed as kitschy and mainstream music by those who grew up in the heart of the 80s, it is impossible to discount the complex songwriting and technical play that represented the opulence of a generation’s past. 

City Pop thrived for almost twenty years until the “Lost Decade”, when Japan’s economic bubble popped in the 1990s. Suddenly, the genre’s sense of escapism and optimism became a melancholy reminder of what once was. 

Fast forward to the 2010s, when City Pop began to make an epic rebound. Domestic crate diggers started to reconsider vintage Japanese records, finding beauty in the source of nostalgia. For overseas collectors, City Pop cuts became a staple in the rare groove rave scene. 

In recent years, Youtube’s algorithm has become the home for City Pop to flourish. Music enthusiasts from around the globe have been allured by the genre’s wistful sound that transports them to a retro-futuristic scene of Tokyo. 

Takeuchi Mariya’s easy-breezy track “Plastic Love” blew up on YouTube in 2017, making an epic comeback since its original release in 1984. Takeuchi released a music video in 2019 after a long career hiatus to celebrate the song's modern success. Before you know it, the tune rose to Japan’s top ten sales chart.

On TikTok, the ultimate catalyst to bring songs from obscurity to virality, Miki Matsubara’s 1979 single “Mayonaka no Door / Stay With Me” was used for a trend where people played the old hit for their Japanese mothers who recognized the melody in an instant. Their reactions are priceless. 

Looking beyond the funky riffs and catchy melodies, City Pop’s distinct aesthetic drew me in at first glance. Hiroshi Nagai, a Tokushima-born illustrator, was the leading visual artist during Japan’s economic boom. His sun-soaked Americana pop art and hyper-realistic work became the face of City Pop. The unique west coast-inspired style depicted the cosmopolitan soundtrack to a T, filling album sleeves with shimmering pools, wind-blown palm trees, and freshly-painted Cadillacs. It’s hard to miss Nagai’s inspiration of post-war United States in the 1950s, gleaming with the fruits of financial prosperity. You can find his iconic artwork on influential City Pop records like Eiichi Ohtaki’s “A Long Vacation”. Eiichi was so inspired by Nagai’s work that he based the entire album on the cover painting. 

Dig through Tokyo’s abundant record stores, and you'll find rows of boxes filled with City Pop records kept in near mint condition. This is no surprise as Japan’s music sales are still made up of 80% physical releases. Getting on a plane to explore Shibuya’s bustling streets is far from a hop, skip, and jump, but don’t worry; I’ve got you covered. You don’t have to move a muscle to be sent into the world of City Pop, this playlist covers the bases to dive head-first into the glamorous genre. 

Close your eyes and feel yourself teleport back to the magical days of Japan in its prime. 

Header Illustration by Indira Fisher