City Pop's Global Revival

It’s 1986 in Tokyo. Discos flash with neon lights, the newest car models coast between skyscrapers, and department stores bustle with shoppers decked out in designer clothing – it’s the Bubble Era of Japan (roughly 1986 to 1991), a time of excess and urban sophistication. Even if you weren’t there, just listen to Misty Mauve and you’ll feel a strange nostalgia for a moment you never lived.

Misty Mauve, performed live by Masayuki Suzuki

A BRIEF HISTORY

City Pop–Japan’s fusion of Western soft rock, funk, R&B, and jazz–began taking shape in the late 70s, but became mainstream in the early 80s as the nation’s economy soared. The genre came to represent a prosperous, city-centric lifestyle fueled by booming real estate, stock prices, and consumer culture. With its smooth production, jazzy chord progressions, and themes of romance, leisure, and city life, City Pop was the perfect soundtrack for this era.

City Pop’s roots trace back to folk-rock band Happy End (1969 to 1972). Their sound drew from American folk rock, but their lyrics had a distinctly Japanese urban melancholy–referencing Tokyo’s changing cityscapes, urban loneliness, and postwar identity shifts–which became a blueprint for City Pop’s metropolitan-focused storytelling. After disbanding, members like Eiichi Ohtaki and Haruomi Hosono continued to pioneer City Pop. Ohtaki’s 1981 solo masterpiece, A Long Vacation, became one of the genre’s most defining works–its glistening melodies paired perfectly with Hiroshi Nagai’s iconic cover art of dreamy skies and empty resort pools.

Artists like Tatsuro Yamashita (Ride on Time), Mariya Takeuchi (Plastic Love), and Anri (Windy Summer) sang about love, freedom, and indulgence through imagery of romantic summer nights, convertible drives along the coast, and the thrill of Tokyo’s nightlife. These themes mirrored the aspirations of a generation living (or dreaming of living) in urban sophistication, and Nagai’s vibrant and dreamlike surrealism artwork became a signature City Pop visual, creating more cover art for icons like Tatsuro Yamashita and Tomoko Aran, solidifying his signature aesthetic.

A GLOBAL REVIVAL

Fast forward three decades to the mid-2010s, where an unauthorized YouTube upload of Takeuchi’s Plastic Love went viral worldwide, reaching over 63 million views, aided by algorithmic recommendations and a thriving lo-fi playlist culture (The original video was taken down due to copyright issues and an official music video has taken its place.) Shortly after in 2020, Miki Matsubara’s Stay With Me resurfaced through a global TikTok trend that prompted nostalgic singalongs from Japanese parents who lived their youth dancing in discos of Tokyo to the song, sparking curiosity from younger generations of this mystical time period.

But before City Pop fully crossed over, underground internet movements like Vaporwave and Future Funk (both heavily sampling City Pop) introduced its bright sound to global ears. Vaporwave emerged in the early 2010s as a slowed-down, nostalgic collage of 80s and 90s sounds—including City Pop—while Future Funk took those same melodies and infused them with uptempo beats and disco energy, turning Japanese samples into party anthems.

This prelude paved the way for mainstream artists. From The Weekend’s Out of Time (sampling Tomoko Aran’s Midnight Pretenders, now streamed over 550 million times on Spotify) channels City Pop’s bittersweet nocturnal vibes.

Midnight Pretenders

Out of Time

Jenevieve’s breakout Baby Powder (streamed over 120 million times) shapes Anri’s Last Summer Whisper into a sultry, modern groove.

Last Summer Whisper

Baby Powder

Note: Both of these artists have borrowed Japanese culture in their other creative projects as well: The Weeknd released an anime-inspired video for “Snowchild” that features the nightlife aesthetic of Tokyo (produced by Tokyo-based animation studio D'ART Shtajio), and Jeneveieve released a new single named “Haiku”, which means a traditional Japanese poetry style that follows a 5-7-5 syllable pattern.

Even Tyler, The Creator borrowed Tatsuro Yamashita’s Fragile for his 2019 track GONE, GONE / THANK YOU. Western artists have created successful hits borrowing from City Pop’s unique nostalgia. International acts like Indonesian band Ikkubaru and Korean DJ Night Tempo openly cite City Pop as a key influence, with the latter remixing 1980s Japanese hits for new audiences.

In the mash-up world, UK-Japanese producer Dan Tanda paid homage to two legends with his acclaimed fan project MF DOOM × Tatsuro Yamashita (2018). The 6-track EP seamlessly blends MF DOOM’s intricate rhymes with Yamashita’s smooth City Pop instrumentals. Tracks like “Rae Sparkle” and “Windy Ladies” highlight how City Pop’s lush arrangements can transform into soulful, hypnotic backdrops for hip-hop. Initially released on Bandcamp, the project gained an underground cult status and eventually saw a limited vinyl pressing in 2024, further cementing City Pop’s appeal to a new generation of crate-diggers and beatmakers.

CITY POP, TODAY & TOMORROW

City Pop’s unique mix of global familiarity and local specificity makes it both fresh and timeless: rich production rooted in Western influences of soft rock, funk, and R&B yet imbued with Japanese melancholy. Even 40 years later, Midnight Pretenders’ late-night regret and romantic confusion resonate in The Weeknd’s own nocturnal tales of loneliness and missed chances. Visually, the Bubble Era’s bold colors, clean lines, and utopian optimism—captured in Nagai’s art and Tokyo’s neon glow—add to the longing.

For today’s audiences, City Pop embodies a retro-futuristic dream: familiar yet foreign, comforting yet melancholic. The genre’s enduring appeal suggests nostalgia has as much value as novelty. City Pop is not just a trend; it’s a cultural time capsule and blueprint for cross-cultural collaboration—one whose sounds and aesthetics continue to inspire, evolve, and thrive in a global context.

☆BONUS☆

Tatsuro Yamashita’s Christmas Eve wasn’t instantly popular when it dropped in 1983—but from 1988, railway company JR East began to use it in their “Xmas Express” commercials, and it became a hit.

These ads showed long-distance lovers rushing to reunite at train stations; it was a perfect match for Yamashita’s bittersweet lyrics about loneliness and hope. Each year, a new ad aired, and Christmas Eve climbed the charts, eventually becoming Japan’s definitive holiday song.