Shinjuku no Onna — Matthew Aguilar-Champeau

I remember having a debate with a friend once, Matt Gunther from the University of Minnesota Sociology department. I tried explaining to him what the blues meant to me; an explanation without any sense or foundation which I realized about halfway through would never make any sense to another person. Were I to try explaining it to him now, I’d probably just direct him to this album.

Its expanse, its wondrous commitment to misery as sound, those things left me completely spellbound. When I think of the great voices I’ve ever heard, three names come to mind: David Ruffin, Javier Solis, and Keiko Fuji. Fuji sets herself apart with her somewhat hoarse and deep voice, a far-cry from the popular singers of the age. This album in particular is the encapsulation of a mission statement in album form: Shinjuku no Onna, The Woman of Shinjuku, a singularly heartbroken and lost person navigating an unrelenting world.