Interview with composer Yoko Kanno
In November 2014, Red Bull Music Academy published an in-depth interview with the venerable Yoko Kanno, composer of Cowboy Bebop's music. The full interview covers a wide range of topics, from her composing efforts during her primary school days to her involvement in seminal works such as Macross Plus to her days as a literature student at Waseda University. Below are extracts from the interview with interesting tidbits for any Yoko Kanno/ Cowboy Bebop fan. You can read the full interview here.
Interview credits: Akihiro Tomita
Photo credits: Yosuke Torii
Interview credits: Akihiro Tomita
Photo credits: Yosuke Torii
Anime has steadily grown in popularity since the ’90s, and Yoko Kanno is one of the most famous musicians working in the genre. The career of the producer who “changed the history of anime music” became widely recognized in 1994 with the score to Macross Plus. Her splendid orchestrations in combination with vocals, tribal, techno, and breakbeat elements were original to say the least, and garnered accolades from many throughout the Japanese music scene.
She followed up with the soundtrack for Cowboy Bebop (1999) which utilized elements from funk, soul and jazz, as well as the digital soundscapes from the Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex (2002), and the music for Macross F (2008) which swept Japanese music charts.
Her latest work for Terror in Resonance (2014) was recorded in Iceland, mixed in England and mastered in New York, speaking volumes about the lengths she takes to find and create sound that accompanies her subject matter. As a music producer, she has overseen the career of Maaya Sakamoto as well as providing music for Kyoko Koizumi, YUKI, and SMAP among others, while also producing scores for NHK’s TV novel Gochisosan (2013).
Musicians who are familiar with her work often give polarized characterizations of Kanno as either being witch-like or extremely innocent. These descriptions are both accurate, as it speaks to the complex and multi-faceted nature of the sounds which she creates. In this rare interview, Akihiro Tomita goes in-depth on the many projects of her career thus far.
Ms. Kanno, it is said that you won multiple awards at composition contests in your younger years. How do you see yourself looking back?
Well, I started becoming a “contest bandit” after the second grade of elementary school. My first musical memories go back to hymns during church. My kindergarten was Catholic, and the teacher was not very good at playing the organ, so I did. [laughs]
You were able to play a keyboard even back then?
There was a piano at my house and I was like “What is this?” I simply played when I felt like it and made original music. So hymns were the first “existing” music I ever played. Having these foundations, my heart has returned to Europe recently, in a way. To a very sort of primitive emotion. This is because I feel religious music, to Europeans, is one of the first forms of music they come in contact with – music that becomes the foundations for their beliefs and life. The lyrical content of hymns are usually in praise to Christ, which I feel is also a very primitive expression. I was a fan of Christ when I was in kindergarten. [laughs] I used to see him in picture books and was like “How wonderful!”
So you were drawn to his... looks?
He was definitely my type. Very sculpted features, he was all-round good looking. Hymns were songs that gave praise to Christ which I saw in this way, but they also say, “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” so being a small child I thought, “Oh, I’m not supposed to sing these songs too much when I’m not at church…,” but of course I wanted to, so I’d hide in the closet and sing very quietly. [laughs] Well, that was how I was drawn to Christ, but this feeling of yearning towards offering music to an all-powerful, all-creating God or natural force is, I feel, the most primitive human impulse. Respect and awe towards an imminent being or force. People say my music sounds “vast” or “religious,” so I wonder sometimes if maybe my childhood experiences have permeated my music, but it’s not like I go out of my way all the time to create a sound that makes people feel that way.
She followed up with the soundtrack for Cowboy Bebop (1999) which utilized elements from funk, soul and jazz, as well as the digital soundscapes from the Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex (2002), and the music for Macross F (2008) which swept Japanese music charts.
Her latest work for Terror in Resonance (2014) was recorded in Iceland, mixed in England and mastered in New York, speaking volumes about the lengths she takes to find and create sound that accompanies her subject matter. As a music producer, she has overseen the career of Maaya Sakamoto as well as providing music for Kyoko Koizumi, YUKI, and SMAP among others, while also producing scores for NHK’s TV novel Gochisosan (2013).
Musicians who are familiar with her work often give polarized characterizations of Kanno as either being witch-like or extremely innocent. These descriptions are both accurate, as it speaks to the complex and multi-faceted nature of the sounds which she creates. In this rare interview, Akihiro Tomita goes in-depth on the many projects of her career thus far.
Ms. Kanno, it is said that you won multiple awards at composition contests in your younger years. How do you see yourself looking back?
Well, I started becoming a “contest bandit” after the second grade of elementary school. My first musical memories go back to hymns during church. My kindergarten was Catholic, and the teacher was not very good at playing the organ, so I did. [laughs]
You were able to play a keyboard even back then?
There was a piano at my house and I was like “What is this?” I simply played when I felt like it and made original music. So hymns were the first “existing” music I ever played. Having these foundations, my heart has returned to Europe recently, in a way. To a very sort of primitive emotion. This is because I feel religious music, to Europeans, is one of the first forms of music they come in contact with – music that becomes the foundations for their beliefs and life. The lyrical content of hymns are usually in praise to Christ, which I feel is also a very primitive expression. I was a fan of Christ when I was in kindergarten. [laughs] I used to see him in picture books and was like “How wonderful!”
So you were drawn to his... looks?
He was definitely my type. Very sculpted features, he was all-round good looking. Hymns were songs that gave praise to Christ which I saw in this way, but they also say, “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” so being a small child I thought, “Oh, I’m not supposed to sing these songs too much when I’m not at church…,” but of course I wanted to, so I’d hide in the closet and sing very quietly. [laughs] Well, that was how I was drawn to Christ, but this feeling of yearning towards offering music to an all-powerful, all-creating God or natural force is, I feel, the most primitive human impulse. Respect and awe towards an imminent being or force. People say my music sounds “vast” or “religious,” so I wonder sometimes if maybe my childhood experiences have permeated my music, but it’s not like I go out of my way all the time to create a sound that makes people feel that way.
I heard it was around this time that you were given advice by Yasushi Akutagawa? [Ed. Note: The third son of literary master Ryunosuke Akutagawa, a talented composer and creator of famous movie scores and children’s songs.]
I was very young at the time and my memory of the incident is sparse. I really didn’t know who he was or what kind of person he was or any of that, but… In those days I used to knowingly create compositions that would appease or gain favor from the judges of the competitions. [laughs] I knew what they were looking for, so I would be like, “Ooh, adults would dig it if I put a key change here.” At one of the contests Akutagawa was one of the judges, and he told me, “You don’t have to do that, create what you like.” Back then I was in a mindset that would pull out all the stops I had to become first at those competitions, and I did have skills that wowed the judges but, when I look back at myself then, I kinda think, “This precocious punk!”
Are his words still alive in you today?
I think very much so. He set me free by letting me know that it was OK to be myself at a time when I was constantly on my tiptoes to prove to the world that I wasn’t a child.
I heard it was around this time that you were given advice by Yasushi Akutagawa? [Ed. Note: The third son of literary master Ryunosuke Akutagawa, a talented composer and creator of famous movie scores and children’s songs.]
I was very young at the time and my memory of the incident is sparse. I really didn’t know who he was or what kind of person he was or any of that, but… In those days I used to knowingly create compositions that would appease or gain favor from the judges of the competitions. [laughs] I knew what they were looking for, so I would be like, “Ooh, adults would dig it if I put a key change here.” At one of the contests Akutagawa was one of the judges, and he told me, “You don’t have to do that, create what you like.” Back then I was in a mindset that would pull out all the stops I had to become first at those competitions, and I did have skills that wowed the judges but, when I look back at myself then, I kinda think, “This precocious punk!”
Are his words still alive in you today?
I think very much so. He set me free by letting me know that it was OK to be myself at a time when I was constantly on my tiptoes to prove to the world that I wasn’t a child.
While you were at university, you were approached by Koei [now Koei Tecmo Games] to create the game music for Nobunaga’s Ambition. How did this transpire?
It was probably because I was known for being “convenient.” Koei was still a small company at the time and I didn’t expect Nobunaga’s Ambition to be a hit series. I think it fell in my lap because they heard I was a person that could write songs quickly.
So this was the first job where you created music to a set environment or plot.
Yes, but game music back then only had three sounds, and because one of them will be utilized for rhythm, you really only have two sounds, so you can really only do counterpoint, a bit like Bach. That’s the sense I had when I was doing it. Also, when I was doing themes for the princesses of the various daimyou [feudal lords], there would be episodes where strategic marriages would result in profits and I would think, “She’s only 14 and she’s forced to go get married to some old dude she doesn’t even know? How sad…” So I would come up with these real sad themes for the princess scenes. [laughs] With only two sounds. I mean, I should be making really cute, princessy themes, but yeah, I kinda did something I wasn’t really supposed to, I guess. I myself don’t understand what I was thinking at the time, but I know I should’ve just made something that could be understood sonically as “princess.” [laughs]
That sort of creativity and sensitivity must have come from your literary childhood.
It could be. The game Uncharted Waters had me writing songs with ambiance originating from countries I had never visited, so creativity was definitely key for that project. Even with anime, I try to create a mental picture or draw from footage already available before I compose.
Cowboy Bebop was an anime which garnered global acclaim, and I felt the use of funk and blues and other forms of black music was very radical for the scene.
The seeds for that score were sown in middle school and high school when I was a member of the brass band. I’m not sure how it is nowadays, but back then all the songs kids were taught weren’t at all cool, so I made and performed originals. But a part of me was always frustrated because I couldn’t understand why everybody else was content playing the uncool music. I wanted to play brass music that shook your soul, made your blood boil, and made you lose it.
This yearning became “Tank!” which was the opening theme. I wanted to make music which would light a fire in me when I played it. Also, when I was “convenient” during my university years, I transcribed a lot of black music. After I began to grasp and understand rhythm I thought, “How is it that they play the drums the same way, but the rhythm is so different between black people and white people?” So I took a trip to New Orleans to listen to jazz and funk.
You went to America while attending university?
Yes. I went coast to coast on a Greyhound bus. I didn’t have money to stay in hotels, so I usually slept on the bus. It was something that was possible because I was young at the time. [laughs] There was a person playing a banjo on the street in Los Angeles, which I thought was cool but I began to notice as I kept moving East the groove of street musicians would swing harder. There were kids the age of high school students playing fantastic funk grooves on just one snare drum. It was through this trip I learned that even within a genre there are differences in the style. This was really exciting for me. I learned that the beat is a form of language. However, back then I didn’t want to come off as a person from Tokyo doing a poor imitation of the Osaka sound, and so even though I respected and revered how cool black music sounded, I was annoyed that I was not able to be close to it. Recently I’m like, “If there’s white funk, let there be yellow funk.” [laughs]
I was very young at the time and my memory of the incident is sparse. I really didn’t know who he was or what kind of person he was or any of that, but… In those days I used to knowingly create compositions that would appease or gain favor from the judges of the competitions. [laughs] I knew what they were looking for, so I would be like, “Ooh, adults would dig it if I put a key change here.” At one of the contests Akutagawa was one of the judges, and he told me, “You don’t have to do that, create what you like.” Back then I was in a mindset that would pull out all the stops I had to become first at those competitions, and I did have skills that wowed the judges but, when I look back at myself then, I kinda think, “This precocious punk!”
Are his words still alive in you today?
I think very much so. He set me free by letting me know that it was OK to be myself at a time when I was constantly on my tiptoes to prove to the world that I wasn’t a child.
I heard it was around this time that you were given advice by Yasushi Akutagawa? [Ed. Note: The third son of literary master Ryunosuke Akutagawa, a talented composer and creator of famous movie scores and children’s songs.]
I was very young at the time and my memory of the incident is sparse. I really didn’t know who he was or what kind of person he was or any of that, but… In those days I used to knowingly create compositions that would appease or gain favor from the judges of the competitions. [laughs] I knew what they were looking for, so I would be like, “Ooh, adults would dig it if I put a key change here.” At one of the contests Akutagawa was one of the judges, and he told me, “You don’t have to do that, create what you like.” Back then I was in a mindset that would pull out all the stops I had to become first at those competitions, and I did have skills that wowed the judges but, when I look back at myself then, I kinda think, “This precocious punk!”
Are his words still alive in you today?
I think very much so. He set me free by letting me know that it was OK to be myself at a time when I was constantly on my tiptoes to prove to the world that I wasn’t a child.
While you were at university, you were approached by Koei [now Koei Tecmo Games] to create the game music for Nobunaga’s Ambition. How did this transpire?
It was probably because I was known for being “convenient.” Koei was still a small company at the time and I didn’t expect Nobunaga’s Ambition to be a hit series. I think it fell in my lap because they heard I was a person that could write songs quickly.
So this was the first job where you created music to a set environment or plot.
Yes, but game music back then only had three sounds, and because one of them will be utilized for rhythm, you really only have two sounds, so you can really only do counterpoint, a bit like Bach. That’s the sense I had when I was doing it. Also, when I was doing themes for the princesses of the various daimyou [feudal lords], there would be episodes where strategic marriages would result in profits and I would think, “She’s only 14 and she’s forced to go get married to some old dude she doesn’t even know? How sad…” So I would come up with these real sad themes for the princess scenes. [laughs] With only two sounds. I mean, I should be making really cute, princessy themes, but yeah, I kinda did something I wasn’t really supposed to, I guess. I myself don’t understand what I was thinking at the time, but I know I should’ve just made something that could be understood sonically as “princess.” [laughs]
That sort of creativity and sensitivity must have come from your literary childhood.
It could be. The game Uncharted Waters had me writing songs with ambiance originating from countries I had never visited, so creativity was definitely key for that project. Even with anime, I try to create a mental picture or draw from footage already available before I compose.
Cowboy Bebop was an anime which garnered global acclaim, and I felt the use of funk and blues and other forms of black music was very radical for the scene.
The seeds for that score were sown in middle school and high school when I was a member of the brass band. I’m not sure how it is nowadays, but back then all the songs kids were taught weren’t at all cool, so I made and performed originals. But a part of me was always frustrated because I couldn’t understand why everybody else was content playing the uncool music. I wanted to play brass music that shook your soul, made your blood boil, and made you lose it.
This yearning became “Tank!” which was the opening theme. I wanted to make music which would light a fire in me when I played it. Also, when I was “convenient” during my university years, I transcribed a lot of black music. After I began to grasp and understand rhythm I thought, “How is it that they play the drums the same way, but the rhythm is so different between black people and white people?” So I took a trip to New Orleans to listen to jazz and funk.
You went to America while attending university?
Yes. I went coast to coast on a Greyhound bus. I didn’t have money to stay in hotels, so I usually slept on the bus. It was something that was possible because I was young at the time. [laughs] There was a person playing a banjo on the street in Los Angeles, which I thought was cool but I began to notice as I kept moving East the groove of street musicians would swing harder. There were kids the age of high school students playing fantastic funk grooves on just one snare drum. It was through this trip I learned that even within a genre there are differences in the style. This was really exciting for me. I learned that the beat is a form of language. However, back then I didn’t want to come off as a person from Tokyo doing a poor imitation of the Osaka sound, and so even though I respected and revered how cool black music sounded, I was annoyed that I was not able to be close to it. Recently I’m like, “If there’s white funk, let there be yellow funk.” [laughs]
Do you like talking with directors and producers?
I do, because most of them aren’t easy to deal with or understand. [laughs] It’s invigorating. We just touched on Hollywood but Japanese anime is really not vast and parliamentary like Hollywood films. There are a small number of people with exceptional talent that carry the whole piece, and I think that’s what makes Japanese anime so great. “As a result of our council meetings, we have come up with a piece that’s positively above average.” These types of projects rarely interest me. It may not be democratic but I’d much rather be asked to provide music for crazy people who come up with crazy projects. Works which express taboos within the human psyche outright, or works which express thoughts and habits of the producer. I think these are characteristic of Japanese anime.
With projects spanning anime, film, and advertisements, I expect in your work there are limitations with the deadline and theme among other things, how do you see these limitations and how do you deal with them?
I welcome limitations. I have very few boundaries regarding the world outside, so without these limitations I feel like I might just melt. [laughs] I absorb things just as quickly as they leave, so it’s comforting sometimes to know I have parameters. That’s why I love making music for advertisements. I’m more at home when I’m given a sandbox to play in. It doesn’t matter if the sandbox is big or small, I just need some sort of form or else I just drown in my own thoughts and it doesn’t amount to anything tangible. Limitations help me a lot actually.
Your work has created a network of Yoko Kanno fans worldwide, however you have never really released an album that bears your name outright. Why is that?
I really don’t know what to say… I had never really thought of something being distinctly my own, just that I have been fortunate enough to be involved in projects which help to give me that distinction. As for an album bearing my name, well, it just seems a little too conceited for me.
I do, because most of them aren’t easy to deal with or understand. [laughs] It’s invigorating. We just touched on Hollywood but Japanese anime is really not vast and parliamentary like Hollywood films. There are a small number of people with exceptional talent that carry the whole piece, and I think that’s what makes Japanese anime so great. “As a result of our council meetings, we have come up with a piece that’s positively above average.” These types of projects rarely interest me. It may not be democratic but I’d much rather be asked to provide music for crazy people who come up with crazy projects. Works which express taboos within the human psyche outright, or works which express thoughts and habits of the producer. I think these are characteristic of Japanese anime.
With projects spanning anime, film, and advertisements, I expect in your work there are limitations with the deadline and theme among other things, how do you see these limitations and how do you deal with them?
I welcome limitations. I have very few boundaries regarding the world outside, so without these limitations I feel like I might just melt. [laughs] I absorb things just as quickly as they leave, so it’s comforting sometimes to know I have parameters. That’s why I love making music for advertisements. I’m more at home when I’m given a sandbox to play in. It doesn’t matter if the sandbox is big or small, I just need some sort of form or else I just drown in my own thoughts and it doesn’t amount to anything tangible. Limitations help me a lot actually.
Your work has created a network of Yoko Kanno fans worldwide, however you have never really released an album that bears your name outright. Why is that?
I really don’t know what to say… I had never really thought of something being distinctly my own, just that I have been fortunate enough to be involved in projects which help to give me that distinction. As for an album bearing my name, well, it just seems a little too conceited for me.
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