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Last week saw the sad passing of Yukihiro Takahashi, co-founder of Japanese electro-pop outfit Yellow Magic Orchestra, solo musician, actor, and one of the most outrageously cool and handsome men to have ever lived. I mean, look at this guy:
The above grab comes from the video for “Drip Dry Eyes”, a single taken from Takahashi’s self-produced 1981 solo LP “Neuromantic”. It’s a wonderful song—an expression of romantic woe crooned by a heartbroken protagonist (“Feels like I've been / Through a washing machine / I'm all washed up I'm ready to drop”) set to a poignantly plucky, chugging electronic backing, and washes of weeping, crystalline synth. There’s also a long burst of gelatinous sax thrown in for good measure—the solo is played by Roxy Music’s Andy Mackay, who makes multiple guest contributions to “Neuromantic” alongside Roxy guitarist Phil Manzanera.
When I heard the news of Takahashi’s death, the first song I put on was Yellow Magic Orchestra’s arpeggiating synth beast “Behind The Mask”, one of my faves, and a song with a fascinating history and a remarkably long life.
For a long, long time, I wrongly thought that this was an original song by Eric Clapton. His barreling, (obviously) guitar-heavy version was a pretty big hit in the UK in the late 80s, and received a lot of radio play in the ensuing years. I always loved the song—that synth riff is just irresistible!—but the more I learned about Eric Clapton, a deeply unpleasant racist, the less inclined I became to listen to any of his music—not that I was a huge fan in the first place. (I will always make an exception for the magisterial “Layla” sequence in Goodfellas.)
So you can imagine my relief and joy when I discovered the YMO version, which is sprightlier, stranger, less blokey. As it happens, the song was initially written by YMO member Ryuichi Sakamoto as instrumental background music for a 1978 Seiko watch commercial. You can listen to that version—slower, spookier, more ornate—here.
YMO worked with the British lyricist Chris Mosdell to come up with lyrics for the band’s more fleshed-out version. It’s not a barrel of laughs: “There is nothing in your eyes / That marks where you cried / All is blank, all is blind / Dead inside, the inner mind”. In a 2011 interview, Mosdell said that he wrote the lyrics of “Behind the Mask” based on the imagery of a Japanese traditional Noh mask, combined with a poem by Irish poet W.B. Yeats called “The Mask.” “I was talking about a very impersonal, socially controlled society, a future technological era,” said Mosdell, “and the mask represented that immobile, unemotional state.”
The track soon came to the attention of producer Quincy Jones. Jones in turn gave it to Michael Jackson, who rewrote its lyrics to make it a more straightforward expression of romantic frustration, and planned to include it on his 1982 LP “Thriller”. The song was ultimately dropped due to a royalties dispute with YMO’s management, but versions have floated around for a few years, and a good-quality demo surfaced late last year on the 40th anniversary re-issue of “Thriller”.
It’s crazy to think that “Thriller”—essentially a perfect album—could have been improved further… but consider this in place of Paul McCartney-guesting ballad “The Girl Is Mine”. (Or perhaps not. I confess I’m actually quite a fan of that dog-gone duet, and “Thriller” wouldn’t be the same without its syrupy charms. I don’t belieeeeve it!)
“Behind The Mask” has appeared in many other forms and versions. The American singer and keyboard player Greg Phillinganes covered it in 1985, predating Clapton (though, like Clapton, using Michael Jackson’s lyrics.) Phillinganes’s keytar-slathered take—a thumping funk-pop-new wave melange that was co-produced by Jackson—is terrific, and features some supremely anguished vocals: this man is hurting.
YMO teamed up with The Human League in 1993 to record a bouncy new version for a collaborative EP, blasted out by Phil Oakey in his trusty Sheffield baritone. And as I write, I recall that “Behind the Mask”’s synth riff was also used as the main hook in 2003’s “Your Mother’s Got a Penis” (I won’t link to it, but it’s out there if you’re a masochist) by briefly-mildly-popular Welsh comedy rappers Goldie Lookin’ Chain, about whom the less said the better…
Anyway, back to Yukihiro Takahashi. In truth, I’ve only really scratched the surface of his prolific, multi-decade output, and it is exciting—albeit tinged with an obvious sadness—to know that there is still so much of a brilliant artist’s rich and lasting legacy to dive into. To that end, if there are any readers of this letter who are Takahashi fans, I’d welcome recommendations of people’s own favorites.
Thank you for reading. Until next week!
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