If this Year Ender does nothing else, it will out me as a closet Ootsuka Ai fan.
As with last year's baffling but none the less completely honest admission of Mikitty worship, this year was again, like going to confessional to make right with my guilty pleasures. Songs and artists I started out the year disliking, were often the ones I came back to most, and some of the songs I thought were amazing at the time, lost their sparkle long before that last summer senkouhanabi dropped.
What I crave from Japanese Music continues to evolve, or de-evolve depending on who you talk to. Since I wasn't actually in Japan this year, I lived like a scavenger feasting upon what I could, when I could. Though I didn't discover the next big artist, nor nurture the indies scene quite as much as I'd like to have, I was able to see Jpop from the eyes of the Western fan. And in the process, restore a little of that old magic that attracted me to it in the first place. Sure, I'm jaded, out-dated, and more than a bit sedated, but you need that. You need a Rolling Stone magazine like prescence to carry the banner of bands long past their sell-by dates have expired. If my picks frustrate you, all the better. If they open your eyes to some overlooked song or artist, I'll die happy. OK, not happy but happier.
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