xiangyu Channels Curiosity into Her Debut Album

“Enryo no Katamari”: An Album Inspired by the Connections from “OTO-SHIMONO”

First of all, congratulations on the release of your debut album. While many artists opt for a self-titled album, I thought it was very fitting of you to choose “Enryo no Katamari” as the title. I heard that contemporary artist Koichi Mitsuoka introduced you to this concept. Could you tell us how you first encountered this theme?

xiangyu： The initial spark came when I released my EP “OTO-SHIMONO” (released in November 2023), which focused on the theme of lost items. Through that EP, it seems that the contemporary artist Koichi Mitsuoka became aware of me. I had long been a fan of his work, and at that time, I was taking part of a J-WAVE radio show where I introduced interesting events and locations around Tokyo. When Mitsuoka had an exhibition in Tokyo, I had the opportunity to visit and interview him, and we really hit it off.

Thanks to that connection, he later invited me to a talk at one of his exhibitions in Shibuya. I assumed we’d be discussing the exhibit itself, but it turned out to be something entirely different [laughs]. He told me that the way I had transformed the concept of “lost items” into music resonated with him. He mentioned, “What you’re doing is incredible because it’s a method that reaches a broader audience than art ever could.” That moment made me realize, “This person shares a very similar points of view.”

Can you elaborate on what you mean by “similar points of view”?

xiangyu： Mitsuoka shared with me hundreds of photos he had collected—each one showing a piece of food left behind, the so-called “enryo no katamari.” He asked me, “What would you do with a photo like this?” I had no idea that this familiar scene at the table even had a name like “enryo no katamari,” so it really caught me off guard. I immediately replied, “I’d turn it into music,” and that conversation naturally led to the idea of collaborating together.

Did you always have the idea of making it into an album?

xiangyu： Initially, I thought about creating just one song called “Enryo no Katamari,” but then I had this vague thought that it could be fun to follow the same approach as “OTO-SHIMONO”—to create a collection of songs, all tied to food and inspired by the same theme. That was the direction I had in mind.

Enryo no Katamari Joins xiangyu’s “Things I Didn’t Know Had Names Encyclopedia”

Was it the fact that “enryo no katamari” has a name that piqued your interest, or was it the phenomenon itself—the moment when that last piece is left behind?

xiangyu: It was the name itself. I’ve always had a thing for discovering when everyday things have names, like realizing that the blue tab on a bread bag is called a closer, or that the tingling sensation when you hit your elbow is called the funny bone. I even made a song about the funny bone! It’s this instinct of mine to find out what’s behind the name of something familiar. So, learning that this familiar scene had a name—enryo no katamari—was just so fascinating. Before I even thought about wanting to share it with others, I just had to turn it into a piece of music.

If you had a “Things I Didn’t Know Had Names Encyclopedia”, would that be its latest entry?

xiangyu： Yes, exactly! That’s exactly the feeling. And the phrase enryo no katamari itself, with its combination of “enryo” (restraint) and “katamari” (lump), feels so uniquely Japanese and modest. I got curious about whether other countries have something like it, so I did some research and discovered that even within Japan, there are different terms. Enryo no katamari is common in Kansai, but in Kanto, they call it “one piece left in the Kanto way,” and in Aomori/Tsugaru, it’s referred to as Tsugaru-shu. I also learned that people from Tsugaru, aware of their own reserved nature, call those who bravely take the last piece “Tsugaru heroes.” It’s interesting how the same concept can be expressed so differently depending on the region.

The concept of enryo no katamari—where you acknowledge something that’s right in front of you and imagine the story behind it—feels like a natural progression from your previous work, OTO-SHIMONO. For that EP, was the fascination more about the phenomenon of “things that don’t belong being in the street”?

xiangyu： Yeah, exactly! Have you ever seen just one shoe left in the middle of the street? When I’m on tour, I spend a lot of time looking out the window during drives, and I love to think about how something random like that ended up where it is. If I see a glove lying in the street in winter, and it just happens to look like a peace sign, I would find it heartwarming. I guess I enjoy finding my own little games in those moments.

When did you start enjoying your own form of solo play?

xiangyu： It all started back in my school days when I had to commute an hour and a half each way from my parents’ house to Bunka Fashion College. I didn’t have an iPod back then, so I ended up eavesdropping on the conversations around me. I’d overhear the grumpy monologues of businessmen during the morning rush or the puzzling exchanges between elderly women in the middle of the day. Strangers’ conversations felt like their own little radio show, and I realized how fascinating it was to listen to other people’s stories. Even now, I find myself listening in on conversations in trains or cafes, enjoying them like a game or a book. For me, it’s just another form of entertainment—tuning into the stories of others.

From Struggling to Enjoying: Music’s Impact on Her Interactions

Listening to music or reading a book is a personal choice to engage with things you love, but conversations can go in unexpected directions. I feel like you’re someone who can find the surprise in that.

xiangyu： Totally! When I overhear people’s conversations on the train, I sometimes find myself thinking, “Oh, this person is contemplating that.” And, for instance, during the evening rush, I like to imagine, “Is this person heading home, or are they off to meet someone for fun?” I really enjoy those little moments of daydreaming. I’ve always found them fascinating.

I feel like your creations stem from your interactions with others. One line in your release comment, “It’s not about good or bad, but the way people engage with the last piece, even if it’s past its prime, is uniquely theirs,” really struck me. The coldness of enryo no katamari feels different from the coldness of eating a solo meal ordered through Uber Eats. Without Koichi Mitsuoka, this album might not have come to life, and your debut album would likely have taken a different shape. Would you say that relationships with others are central to your creative process?

xiangyu： I think I’ve come to realize that it’s something essential for me. I’ve always liked people and been interested in them, and I’ve always wanted to talk to all kinds of people, but I was terrible at communication. People who only know the current version of xiangyu might be surprised, but I really struggled with it in the past. However, after about seven years of making music, I’ve slowly started to understand how to navigate relationships, how to connect with others, and how to communicate my feelings. I’ve started to really enjoy engaging with different people, including the audience. So, I believe that this album became a work that really values dialogue and connection with others.

When I made my last EP, it was more of a project where I solely focused on what I personally found interesting. It was very introspective, and I wasn’t thinking about collaborating or sharing with anyone. But this time, from the very beginning of the album’s creation, I had many conversations and thought about how my perspective on what I find interesting might look from other people’s viewpoints. That, I think, is a major difference.

How did you build these conversations?

xiangyu： I had many people listen to the tracks, and I also collaborated with artists I like to create some of the songs. The conversations with Koichi Mitsuoka were part of it, and I also took into account the reactions of live audiences. When I went on tour in different regions, I’d ask, “What do you do when you encounter the last piece of food—enryo no katamari?” I absorbed the values and thoughts of different people and stored them in my mind.”

When the little things don’t have to mean anything—now that’s fun

The beauty of enryo no katamari is that it creates a shared understanding, allowing you to easily bond with strangers. You traveled to local spots, directly asking people “What do you think of this?” It’s a grounded approach, and the way you let those real-time conversations and connections gradually shape your work feels so genuine.

xiangyu： I’ve been tuning into conversations from complete strangers and random voices in restaurants, absorbing them and transforming them into my own interpretation in songs. For me, that’s a form of communication too. And I think that was key in creating this album.

More people have been tagging you on Instagram when they find something that’s been left behind, right?

xiangyu： Oh, totally! It’s definitely increased. One person told me, “Ever since I heard your song about lost things, I’ve started looking down more when I walk!” I was not sure how I felt about it, but it really made me happy [laughs].

I don’t really make music to send a specific message, but what I want to say is that even the small, seemingly insignificant things in life should be able to exist freely. If the world can’t just accept these little things as normal, I don’t think I’d be able to live in it. This album is probably the most carefree one I’ve ever made, and I’m so happy that it actually works as a piece of art. I’ve even felt down before when someone said, “What’s the point of a leek on the sidewalk?” But when I see a leek on the street, I feel something—so I want to keep that mindset. I’d much rather live in a world where people can say, “Hey, I saw a leek on the road!” because that’s just more fun, right? If we could all share those little “I like this” moments in such a simple way, that’d be absolutely amazing.

These days, it feels like every minute is consumed by ticking off tasks—absorbing fleeting bits of knowledge, replying to emails, and so on. In a world that’s all about efficiency, I think there’s something truly rich in being able to embrace the trivial and the silly.

xiangyu： At some point, we stopped playing tag with our friends, right? We used to spend hours running around, but now, if you want to hang out, it feels like you have to grab food or drinks. I really admire people who can still enjoy those carefree, childish moments, no matter their age, and I hope to keep that spirit alive in myself too.

A Desire to Know More: The Driving Force Behind xiangyu’s Curiosity

Your music seems to reflect a pure curiosity, like asking “Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west?” Where does that curiosity come from?

xiangyu： Honestly, I don’t know. But I feel like it’s impossible to know everything about the world before you die, right? So I just want to learn as much as I can before it’s all over. For example, did you know there are so many types of mushrooms that aren’t even in field guides? I met this guy who’s basically a “Mushroom Master” and takes photos for mushroom books, and he told me there are still mushrooms out there that even he doesn’t know. That blew my mind.

xiangyu： It’s the same with people. No matter how close you are to someone, today’s them might not be the same as tomorrow’s. That’s why I always have this desire to understand and learn, and I think that’s probably the biggest driving force within me.

I don’t really have this urge to vent frustrations about society or anything. Instead, I’m more driven by the curiosity of “What’s this all about?” I’d rather take a moment to think it through myself, really understand why I find something interesting, before putting it out as a piece of work. I feel like that approach is the foundation of my music-making.

You didn’t originally aim to be a musician, right? You shifted from the fashion field to music after being scouted. Do you think your past experiences have influenced your music?

xiangyu： Yeah, I’ve always had this feeling that I didn’t want to be in the spotlight—I just wanted my work to stand on its own in the world. That’s why I was making clothes since I was a teenager, but I reached a point where I realized I could only do so much alone. I also worked as an assistant costume designer, and it really bothered me that things I made were credited under someone else’s name. It was hard—“I made this, but it’s not mine in the world.” With that kind of dilemma, I started thinking, “I need to change this somehow.” Then, I remembered that someone who would later become my current chief manager (Yasutomo Fukunaga) had scouted me years ago. He told me, “What you want to do—music—can reach people faster than clothes ever will.” Those words stuck with me, and I thought, “Maybe I should just go for music.” That’s how it all started.

Mitsuoka-san’s comment at the start, “It’s incredible that you’re using music, which reaches the world more easily than visual art, to express yourself,” seems like it could be the perfect reflection of your musical path. Do you think so?

xiangyu： Yeah, that’s true. The way I express myself has evolved since I was scouted, but the core of what I’ve wanted to do has stayed the same for the past 12 or 13 years. It’s a realization I’ve come to again now.