Akiko
Huddled over a back table at the Roppongi jazz club Alfie, out of earshot of her manager and new record company reps, Akiko confessed. "Actually, I love punk music," she confided in hushed tones, then added with a half-embarrassed laugh, "and Hawaiian guitar, Louis Jordan and the Jackson Five."A broad mix of tastes for anyone, but even more curious for Akiko, who has just finished two sparkling sets of jazz standards, singing with the emotional intensity and sophisticated phrasing of another of her favorites, Billie Holiday.
"I like jazz because it has improvisation and lots of feeling," Akiko said, "but also because it is the most free music." But for Akiko, "free" hardly means "do what you like"; it has to do with the openness of expression the form allows. Rather than trying to cover up her youthful innocence and inexperience with contrived emotionality or technical perfectionism, Akiko, who goes by the uncapitalized, “akiko”, approaches her songs honestly. Her energetic style brings to the sometimes-staid environment of jazz vocals a refreshingly unaffected sensibility that is confident in its femininity.
Even before graduating in English from Chuo University in 1999, she was regularly performing at live houses and jazz clubs in Tokyo. So, during her two sets at Alfie, one of the best jazz clubs in the city, she was clearly comfortable in front of the audience. Backed by a swinging, straight-ahead quartet, Akiko delivered upbeat, distinctive versions of jazz classics "Honeysuckle Rose," "Fly Me to the Moon," "Sweet Georgia Brown" and "Night and Day." But as if unable to suppress her love of a good melody, whatever its origins, she interspersed Minnie Ripperton's "Lovin'You," sung over a lilting reggae-ish rhythm, Stevie Wonder's delicate ballad "Overjoyed" bouncing with a juicy electric bass line, and a gutsy, let-loose version of Peggy Lee's "Fever."The clever selection and arrangement of songs attest to Akiko's diverse influences and deep musicality.
On her debut CD, "Girl Talk," recorded in Paris and released last month on Universal Verve, she also combines old and new. On standards, her melodic phrasing is fluid and refined, well grounded in jazz tradition, but a playful craving for variation enhances the arrangements. Adding a bluesy drive or a chanson glide to the overall jazz pulse keeps Akiko's melodic singing rooted deeply in the rhythms.
Especially impressive on the CD, and even more so at her live shows, is Akiko's ability to sing powerfully across a wide range of registers. High or low, she never loses the feeling behind the notes. Her vibrato and line-end improvs are added not just as decorative embellishments, but because she has a little something more to say.
The title track is a celebration of women's language, while "Don' Cha Go 'Way Mad" taunts a hypersensitive lover with withering force. Akiko delicately dances along the high wire of double-coded messages in these lyrics, balancing assertiveness with a mischievous delight in having the upper hand.
At her live shows, she has a captivating presence and obviously considers herself an integral part of the band rather than just a pretty face up front. When asked about trading improvised lines with sax stalwart Ken Ota, she answered, "I like to listen to the saxophone a lot, since it's most like the human voice."
As a leader, she passes soloing duties to the other musicians easily and often, listening closely as they offer their takes on the melodies she has just sung, she then answers with whispers, blues moans, loud vibrato and other vocal textures.Taking an honest, improvisatory approach to the music, of course, means that not everything comes out perfect every time. But, it doesn't need to. When the musicians all clicked, their youthful impetuosity produced shimmering highs, far beyond the bland predictability of over-polished professionals. A mutual acceptance of spontaneity's fluctuations allowed the band to find the songs' emotional core.
Ultimately, her open approach to the music inspires her sincerest interpretations. At a previous performance at the intimate jazz club Naru, she sang "Lover Man," one of Billie Holiday's signature tunes, with breathtaking power, expressing that song's full range of feelings with striking candor. The confusion and self-pity of tunes such as "Love for Sale" and "Round Midnight" came through more angry than acquiescent. Akiko's jazz vocal technique converts apprehensions and vulnerability into sources of strength. She resists the all-too-common attitude that resigns women jazz singers to a demure, wistful resilience and instead offers a dynamic attitude that still keeps a reflective side to it.
Indeed, Akiko emphasized, "I want to attract more young women to my shows, those who would not normally go into jazz clubs," referring especially to her upcoming gigs at Club Quattro, a club noted for its eclectic lineup. "Instead of just old men in neckties, I want different people to come and hear. I want young people to know about Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughn, too!" This attitude will surely appeal to a different audience of potential jazz fans, even those who still love punk music.
(originally published in The Japan Times, July 2001)