Haruko Oishi: A Closer Look at Her Unique Personality and Career Trajectory

Soul Music and Hymns: Foundations of Her Early Musical Journey

According to your profile, you were born in Osaka and raised in Kanagawa, in a family that loved music.

Oishi: When I was young, I didn’t really pay attention to it, but there was often soul music playing around the house. Artists like Donny Hathaway and Minnie Riperton. When I listened to them later on, I’d recognize the songs and think, “I know this one.” My family loved music too. We’d often play instruments and sing together at home, or go to karaoke. I used to play the game PaRappa the Rapper, and I still listen to its soundtrack sometimes.

Your brother, RYUKI, is a rapper and participated in the track “Te no Todoku” on your album MyakKō. Did you both share similar music tastes?

Oishi： There’s a bit of an age gap, so we didn’t really share much directly. I only realized my brother liked hip-hop when I entered university, and even after I started making music, we just kind of acknowledged that we were both doing something, but that was about it [laughs].

You attended a school with a continuous curriculum, where you sang hymns every morning. That must have been a significant part of your connection to singing, right?

Oishi: Yes, it definitely was. We had an annual choir competition, and everyone got really into it. I loved being in the choir, and I enjoyed singing hymns too. Every morning, all the students would gather, and even though I was a bit sleepy, singing has been something I’ve enjoyed since then.

Looking back, what did those morning worship sessions mean to you at that time?

Oishi: To be honest, I should have focused more on the sermon, but it was also a time for me to reflect and think. Even now, I enjoy taking walks and letting my mind wander. Having that dedicated time in the morning to think and reflect felt like a rare and valuable moment back then. While listening to the sermon, I would let my thoughts wander and imagine things.

Influence of GRAPEVINE and Radio

You mentioned that you listened to GRAPEVINE a lot during your middle school years.

Oishi： I have a tendency to focus intensely on something once I get hooked, whether it’s comedy or music. After discovering GRAPEVINE, I listened to their music over and over again until the CDs were worn out. When I was in elementary school, I used to listen to anime songs, drama theme songs, and popular bands like ORANGE RANGE, but I think I was drawn to GRAPEVINE because they had a more mature vibe.

Was there a specific GRAPEVINE song that first caught your attention?

Oishi：I think it was singles like “Slow” and “Hikari ni Tsuite.” The lyrics had a kind of ambiguity that I couldn’t fully understand at the time, which made them even more intriguing. It was like, “I don’t quite get it, but maybe that’s okay.” I used to get really excited with my friends who were also into GRAPEVINE, saying, “It’s just so amazing!”

The indirectness in their lyrics seems to align with your own songwriting approach.

Oishi：I guess I’m a little shy about writing too directly, so I may have a tendency to avoid being too clear-cut. But I think GRAPEVINE influenced me in understanding that it’s fine if things aren’t always easy to grasp. Their lyrics are often seen as literary, but there are moments that really strike you, like “This scene feels familiar.” I always aim for my own lyrics to convey a particular mood or emotional shift. While using the full potential of sound, I want my songs to evoke something personal for each listener. I hope to create songs that make people feel their own unique response, rather than everyone having the same image in their minds.

Did you always have an interest in poetry and words?

Oishi: It’s a bit embarrassing, but I didn’t really read books much during my school years. I had trouble focusing, so I couldn’t really absorb anything. Even when I thought I was reading, I would just follow the words, and before I knew it, I’d be thinking about something else, like “Did I record that show?” Reading never really clicked for me, so literature felt like a distant thing.

You’ve always liked comedy, especially radio. Are there any radio shows that you’ve been listening to for a long time and that have influenced your personality or values?

Oishi: I started listening to the radio when I entered university and would listen on my way to school. One of the shows I listened to every week was Banana Man’s Banana Moon GOLD. I loved the segment called “Himpeki,” where they did parody songs. Unfortunately, it was recently discontinued after over 10 years, and I felt sad about that. I also listened to Diane’s Yona Yona… until it ended. I think I like the more trivial, carefree shows. I like the idea of people sending ridiculously silly emails and postcards, taking them seriously. I even sent an email myself. It’s fun to think of something foolish, almost like you’re doing work, like writing a thesis, but you’re writing things you’d never show anyone. I think I enjoy that time. It might be similar to the time I spend writing lyrics. I’m not sure if it shaped my personality, but if someone asks me what I like, I’d say radio. I probably spend more time listening to radio than music.

Her Musical Journey Begins at Waseda University

You joined a music club at Waseda University and started singing seriously there, right?

Oishi: Yes, I joined a club that covered black music. Waseda has a lot of music clubs, so I initially explored various genres. But when I saw the soul and funk performances at the welcome live, I was really impressed. When I went to jam sessions, everyone would play without sheet music, changing keys on the spot, and it felt so fresh.

By the way, when did you start playing instruments, and how proficient were you?

Oishi: I started learning classical piano when I was in elementary school. However, I stopped when I entered junior high because I couldn’t keep up with practice. In middle and high school, whenever I had free time at home, I would play and sing along to GRAPEVINE. I also started experimenting with an acoustic guitar that was at home, learning the chords. Even after joining the club, I was just singing, so I didn’t really dive into playing instruments. But I think it was lucky that I had a background with piano and guitar, as it helped me start composing later on.

During university, you mainly did covers and sang songs by artists like Corinne Bailey Rae and Minnie Riperton. I’ve also heard you like Cleo Sol. It seems like you lean towards a smoother style, with a cool vibe but also a subtle warmth, rather than powerfully belting out songs. Is that the kind of feeling you’re going for?

Oishi: There were people in the club with powerful voices who were really good singers, and I realized that it was okay if I couldn’t do that. There are many songs you can sing without needing to project a loud or high voice. I think it was really valuable for me to learn what kind of songs I could sing and wanted to sing during my time in the club.

After graduating from university, you started working on original music. How did you feel about your career path at that time?

Oishi： After retiring from the club and graduating, I never thought about “quitting music.” I felt that if I was going to continue, I wanted to sing my own songs and that it was the right thing to do. While working at a dumpling shop, I began seriously creating original music and doing live performances.

Striving for Timeless Music, Not Just the Typical

How did your first release, Sanbi (2019), come to be?

Oishi: I don’t really have songs that are purely fictional. My songs tend to come from things I’ve felt or thought about, and when those emotions or thoughts accumulate, I create music as a way to express them. For example, “Okoranai de ne” was written after the death of my pet dog. When something affects me, I can’t just leave it at that; I feel like I have to shape it into something, or I won’t be okay with just leaving it as it is. I feel like what I was thinking at that time is strongly reflected in that work.

Your 2022 release MyakKō is also based on the feelings and thoughts you had during the COVID-19 pandemic, right?

Oishi： I did have a feeling that I wanted to properly capture what I was feeling during that time in a song. However, even though there was more time during the pandemic, I didn’t feel the drive to just create a lot of songs. Maybe some people thought I should have been more urgent about it [laughs]. There were fewer releases and live performances, but I never really felt rushed. I figured there was no point in rushing, so I just decided to do what I could when I could.

Kashiwai (Editor): “Not rushing” is not as easy as it sounds, especially considering the restrictions you faced in your mid-20s during the pandemic. What do you think allowed you to avoid feeling rushed?

Oishi: Of course, I felt anxious. During that time, I couldn’t see my friends, and there was nothing enjoyable ahead of me, so I became filled with vague fears about the future and regrets about the past. I really fell into a slump. I remember watching people gather around the snack section in the supermarket during a holiday, and tears just started flowing… I even felt guilty for thinking, “Am I struggling?” But looking back now, I realize it was a pretty tough time.

That’s probably why I was consciously trying not to become too overwhelmed with anxiety. I felt like it was dangerous. I realized that if I wasn’t in a good place mentally, I wouldn’t be able to do music—or anything, really. I became more determined to restore balance. I decided not to rush, and first, I distanced myself a bit from those depressing feelings and wrote “Sanagi.” It’s a song about accepting the past, focusing on what can be done for the future, and the importance of creating something in the present.

The album MyakKō received significant reactions, including a special award at the APPLE VINEGAR -Music Award-, but looking back now, how do you feel about the work?

Oishi: I felt that it was more interesting if it didn’t end up being something that felt “typical.” I’m not very good at the process of saying, “Let’s make this track sound like this,” so I think I often ended up having more abstract discussions with the band members.

For me, there was an event that served as the starting point for the song, but I wanted the imagery to vary depending on the listener, and I hoped it would turn out that way during the creation process. As for the sound, I didn’t aim for something groundbreaking, but I did want to leave some space for ambiguity. I’m drawn to music that doesn’t feel outdated even after a few years, so when making the album, I wanted to create something that could be enjoyed by anyone, at any time, and by any listener. That was my goal.

As you mentioned, Kousuke Nakamura’s engineering played an important role. Did you communicate with him using abstract terms as well?

Oishi: Yes, exactly. While using specific reference tracks might make things easier in many situations, I find it more effective when I provide abstract requests and Nakamura-san plays me a few different sounds to help move things along. He always encourages me to explore more music, introducing me to songs I don’t know, which I truly appreciate.

To ask in an abstract way, what was the image of light that you had in mind for MyakKō?

Oishi: I wanted it to be something that holds significance for the individual in that moment. It’s the things you discover you love—maybe tomorrow you’ll feel differently, but if it’s something truly meaningful, even for just a brief moment, that’s enough.

And it doesn’t have to be something that resonates with everyone. I wanted to express something that was personal and special to me. I’d be happy if listeners could say, “Today, this particular sound in this track stands out to me,” or just enjoy it however they feel. The light I sought to express in MyakKō might be something along those lines.

MyakKō is a coined term, but I felt it had a vague, fleeting light-like quality to it. It doesn’t emit a strong message, but it still carries a certain presence.

Oishi: Yes, that’s right. I don’t think any of the songs have a glaring, clear-cut message. It’s more like, “This is how I feel, but what do you think?” It’s the kind of feeling where I leave something out there, and if it catches your attention, feel free to pick it up.

Singing the Existence, Not Just Valuing the Everyday

You released new songs in October and December of last year. What was the year and a half like since MyakKō?

Oishi： I had a vague idea that it would be nice to plan an album over a longer period of time, but… this time, I might have been a bit rushed. At the beginning of last year, a close person got sick, and I had a strong desire to get the music out quickly. So, I thought I just wanted to take what I had and shape it into something to release. I ended up releasing two singles, and instead of just saying, “I’ve released it, listen to it,” I wanted to create something tangible, so I made cassette tapes.

Regarding live performances, there haven’t been many since the pandemic. What were your thoughts on that?

Oishi： I may not have had the mindset that “live shows are important” from the beginning. I personally didn’t have many opportunities to attend live performances, and I’ve always been saved by recorded music. So, I feel like the music is complete once I release it.

In terms of music production, I can choose takes and set goals for myself to some extent, but with live performances, there are so many external factors that I can’t control, which makes me a bit anxious. The rehearsal never turns out exactly the same, and I don’t know what the venue or audience will be like. But this time, with recent song releases and encouragement from various people, I was able to take on the challenge.

Kashiwai (Editor): Yes, we’ve been sending out live performance offers left and right [laughs].

How did it feel to actually perform?

Oishi: I thought, “It’s still difficult!” When the audience tells me, “That was really great,” it’s one form of feedback, and I feel relieved by that. But my own feelings and sensations from the performance are something I want to value separately.

Did you feel any pressure from the increased attention after the album release?

Oishi: Not at all. The only pressure I felt was my own anxiety—wondering what would happen if I didn’t feel satisfied with the result. But with the members who participated in the tracks I released this time, I had a sense that we might be able to explore something new together, and that we could potentially create a great live performance. That feeling made me take the plunge. During the production and live phases, Yusei Takahashi played a key role and became a trusted advisor for me, which was really significant.

How did “Satin no Tsuki” (Satin Moon) released in October come about?

Oishi： I was out for a nighttime walk, and I was walking along a large road. When I crossed the pedestrian crossing, there was a median strip. I could have either given up or run if the light was about to turn red, but I ended up waiting in the middle for the light to turn green. While I was standing there, cars were speeding by in front and behind me, and it felt as though I wasn’t even there. It made me realize that no one knew I was standing there, or that I was experiencing all these thoughts and feelings. I became acutely aware of my loneliness, and I thought that maybe, considering this loneliness, there are things I can still think about and do moving forward. That’s when I wrote this song.

-I thought that there must be something I can do from now on based on the premise of loneliness, so I wrote this song. You are lonely, but there are cars passing by, so you can’t go back, you can only keep going.

Oishi: It’s not just about the artist’s career, but the feeling of “not being able to go back” is significant in general. Once you know something, you can’t go back to the state before. And there are more things you can’t do as time goes on. I found myself in this kind of situation, and I spent a lot of time thinking about, “So what do I want to do next?”

In the song, the first half reflects the realization of loneliness, but in the second half, there’s a shadow that exists because I am definitely here. The heartbeat sounds because I’m alive. It’s not about completely transforming into something positive, but more like acknowledging that there are still things I can do. The line “I’m running through this city for the first time” doesn’t imply a specific destination—I’m running without any particular purpose or expectation of success. It’s more like, “This is who I am too,” almost making me laugh at myself, and it feels a bit lighter.

How about the song “Tokusan (A lot)” that was released in December?

Oishi: Last year, there were disasters from the beginning of the year, and I thought, “It’s supposed to be New Year’s,” but I realized that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what the day is like socially or how it affects other people; happy and sad things, big and small, all happen regardless. I really felt that again, so I wrote from that perspective.

Ideally, I’d want only happy things to happen, but since I can’t choose, I think it’s tough just to go through daily life. Even so, if life is going to continue, I started thinking about how I can maintain myself. And the answer was, I still want to share things with someone, talk to someone. Creating music became that method for me. I feel like I’m creating it to share what I’m thinking and feeling. I want it to reach people beyond family and friends, beyond time and distance—even to those I can’t meet now. Even if it’s difficult, I want to engage with it.

The line “I’ll peel fruit for you” stands out and seems to show an awareness of others.

Oishi: I sing lines like “I’ll peel fruit for you” and “Children play outside,” but it’s not about glorifying the simple life. I just wanted to highlight that this kind of life exists, plain and simple.

It’s not about “valuing life” or “cherishing the small things,” but simply singing about their existence— that was the important feeling.

Oishi: Yes, that’s right. So, even though I wrote “I’ll peel fruit for you,” I wasn’t really thinking about love for the person represented by “you.” Instead of focusing on that, I’m just saying that there are many points, like coordinates, that mark both the happy and sad moments. If everyone knew about that kind of life, or could imagine it, then things that shouldn’t happen—sadly, they still do. If I have a wish, it’s that no one should be forced into something or have something taken from them. I hope the world continues to be one where children can go play without a care. That’s what I wanted to express.

Finally, what do you want to prioritize moving forward, and how do you envision your expression evolving?

Oishi: Last year, I challenged myself with releases, live shows, cassette tapes, and merchandise production, but I didn’t have much time for those vague, unstructured moments. Since the end of the year, I’ve been enjoying time to buy books from bookstores and mend clothes, things like that. I’m making sure to carve out that time, and it’s been fun. This year, I might want to travel as well. After a little time like that, I think songs will naturally come to me again. After releasing two singles, I really felt the strength of an album, so if I release something next, it’ll probably be an album. I want to prepare for that.

Is the desire for someone to live the way they want, without being forced by others, something you prioritize in your creative process as well?

Oishi: For me, I might need a bit of a push sometimes [laughs], but even when I’ve taken breaks from creating, eventually I get that feeling of “I want to create again.” I enjoy reading books, watching comedy, listening to rakugo, or watching films, and of course, that’s fun, but in the end, I still have this urge to create something. It feels natural to me, and I feel there are parts of me that can only be satisfied through creation. I can’t control the timing or the energy, but when that feeling of “I want to create” hits, I want to make sure I’m both mentally and physically healthy, so I can be ready to create when the time comes.

INFORMATION

The singles “Satin no Tsuki” and “Takan” are now available for streaming on various platforms.
Satin no Tsuki: https://ssm.lnk.to/satinmoon
Takusan: https://ssm.lnk.to/things

Additionally, cassette tapes and merchandise featuring these two tracks are available for purchase online.
https://shop.oishiharuko.com/

Seiko Oishi HP
https://oishiharuko.com/