The Singles Jukebox

Yo, readers, I heard you liked J-pop royalty… so we put…

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[7.00]

Ryo Miyauchi: Maybe this is what Utada’s life during her six-year break from pop stardom felt like: a life without the weight of responsibility but still near the hustle and bustle of the big city; relics of her old self stowed away for good but stored close enough to be reminded of who she once was. And precious time spent with friends, sharing all the romantic things they’d do if time wasn’t the issue. Utada and Shiina sing freely about escapism, but they give themselves only two hours to breathe for a reason: you appreciate life more if you know you’re only given a certain amount of time.
[7]

Lilly Gray: I am tired pretty much all the time now, half general body decay and half poor life choices, but at least in this I have a lot of company. I used to take a train about 45 minutes from work into the city and marvel at the people who could fall dead asleep over their bags and still make their stop, and this song feels made especially for them, and now, I guess, me as well. I want to feel hopeful and I want to be smiling when I come home, exactly like in the commercials, and this song at least seems to be on my side in that regard. I’m particularly vulnerable to passionate, up-tempo strings and the lovely combo of these two blast from the past voices, so hearing “you’re trying hard for your family” legit made me want to clench my fist and haul my ass up another flight of stairs at the station. 
[9]

Iain Mew: I love the way that the song patiently unwinds, and especially how that uses the contrast between Utada’s and Ringo’s voices. The latter’s harsher tone helps to convey just the right, agonising taste of inevitable end amidst the plush escapism.
[8]

Alfred Soto: What a beautiful tune: the guitars, and strings intertwine with precision while Utada navigates between wistfulness and strength.
[8]

Olivia Rafferty: The arrangement could have thrown a little more caution to the wind. The stepping hi-hat, the mumbling bass and the rising strings all toy with the idea of disco, but the tempo stays a little too steady for it to get off the ground completely. Still, the melody manages to hold its own enough for this to be a worthwhile listen.
[6]

Thomas Inskeep: Click track, gently-plucked guitar, strings, and two voices. Unfortunately they forgot to bring much of a song.
[4]

Edward Okulicz: It’s not sure if it wants to be a disco song, or a nicely-arranged but slightly overlong stately ballad thing that I used to skip over on records that had them because I was a philistine who hated lovely things. That said, I always give Utada Hikaru the benefit of the doubt because her Exodus album deserved a lot better than it got from the West, and even at about half-stretch she repays the benefit. She is slightly upstaged by those sighing string sweeps.
[6]

Cassy Gress: So yes, neither Utada Hikaru nor Shiina Ringo is doing anything that is much of a stretch for them, and this song floats along in a way that one might call boring (though not me — I have a thing for this midtempo guitar-and-strings genre, whatever it’s called). But I tell you what, this song is weeping regret: the way they hesitate in the choruses on “nagisa no temae de… rendezvous,” the way the “ahhh” post-chorus bit goes from D minor to A major instead of the expected C major, the IV7 that the second half of each verse sinks into, the cautiously hopeful way the strings change from pizzicato to arco and the chord changes from vi to VI on “ima sugu no tsureteitte,” and not coincidentally, the italicized word roughly translates to “take me.” You know how sometimes you feel strongly enough about a musician that you get sort of protective mama-hen about them? Maybe it’s just me? This song pushed me there for both of them.
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