Teenage rebellion never dies; songs capturing adolescent angst will always be a staple of youth. It’s still rare that those defiant little bops become mainstream hits, though.
The debut track from teenage singer Ado, “Usseewa” managed to do just that, and has emerged as the biggest Japanese hit of the year so far. Delivered in snarls and screams, it’s a broadside against modern corporate culture: daily commutes, soulless corporate jobs and even the rules of drinking with co-workers. This is music that was made to make your parents worry, magnified on a national scale.
Since coming out in October 2020, “Usseewa,” written and produced by electronic artist syudou, has been viewed more than 226 million times on YouTube, and has topped the Billboard Japan Hot 100, Oricon Digital Singles Chart and Spotify’s Viral 50 chart, among others.
More tellingly, “Usseewa” has become a pop culture phenomenon. TV programs have explored its popularity and notoriety, as a growing number of parents and schools reportedly raised concerns about the song, which features a hook that translates in English as “shut up, shut up” (the official translation ratchets this up to “shut the f— up”).
In the official music video, the art showcases a Japanese student, surrounded by adults from the corporate world, wearing visors reminiscent of some sci-fi “mind-control” devices, This possibly represents how most working adults are mindless drones, or as Ado puts it, “corporate slaves”. This lyrical verse is not some jab at a certain company by a disgruntled ex-employee but instead points at a massive and extreme societal problem that Japan has faced for decades. In fact, Japan is the birthplace of karoshi – “death from overwork” – a word invented in the 1970s to describe deaths caused by work-related stresses and pressures. Unfortunately, it’s still a regular fixture in Japan’s lexicon today.
While Western society is individualistic and non-hierarchical, the same cannot be said for Japanese society, as it is both collectivist and hierarchical. Japan faces an epidemic where Japanese workers barely take half of their allocated days of leave per year. The main reason for such a worrying trend is guilt – a reflection of the pressures and expectations that weigh heavily on a workaholic society. Many people refrain from taking holidays because their bosses do not take holiday, or they are afraid that it will disrupt the group harmony. It is a deeply-rooted problem as the thought that “my coworkers are not even taking leave, so I should not be the only one taking time off work” has been ingrained into the minds of Japanese workers. Furthermore, the culture of remaining in the same job for a lifetime is especially pronounced in Japan, where employees dread quitting their current jobs in favour of seeking greener pastures. One reason for the Japanese reluctance to change jobs lies in the lifetime employment system. It rewards loyalty to the company through its seniority-based benefit system. Staying with a company grants more vacation days, higher income, and other advantages. From this standpoint, a job change could only hurt one’s career. Many companies also see mid-career applicants with skepticism and as potential trouble-makers, believing that they must have done poorly at their old company to warrant a job switch.
In addition to that, Japan is revered for their mentality of not “ burdening” others, which has led to its reputation as an immensely pristine and polite country. Yet, this mentality is a double-edged sword. While it is admirable that the Japanese people do not wish to inconvenience others, this means that workers rarely take time off work for fear of burdening others with their workload.
However, things are changing as employees in the country whose brutal office culture has led to several deaths are beginning to rethink the tradition.
Moving back to the music video, this change in mentality is heavily reflected in not just the lyrics, but the raw emotion Ado puts into expressing them. Personally, while I was slightly put off by the “metal-esque” style of singing at first, I began to appreciate how Ado essentially channels the sentiment of the younger generations of Japanese people as an increasing number of them call for change within the workforce. The art in the video also brings out the feelings that Japanese workers may feel as they face immense pressure from society if they even take a day of leave.
That’s probably not the face of a sane person.
(From Ado’s music video)
Where Ado excels is in her impressive lyricism. A verse recounts how the protagonist was an honour student, but she had grown up before she knew it, possibly reflecting her dread of becoming a full-fledged adult. She grew up in a school environment where she was considered a special, exemplary student, but her achievements in school were short-lived as she was thrown into the adult world. She takes up a corporate job like she’s expected to, and is awakened to the frustrating work environment that’s common in Japan. The verse continues, “A train of thought like a knife/ Which I didn't have with me”. This makes sense in the context of the song as she’s slowly discovering that the attributes she was appraised for in her childhood were actually mediocre in the adult world; her train of thought is not as sharp as she was told it was. This interpretation fits well with the song’s sarcastic nature.
What’s more interesting is that the track has inspired a wave of thinkpieces, ranging from critical takes to defences framed as “what those over 30 get wrong about ‘Usseewa.’” The title of one English-language YouTube deep dive into the song sums it up nicely: “Why Japan Hates This Song” (except for the millions who don’t).
The fiery and fierce ‘Usseewa’ emerged seemingly from nowhere, serving as Ado’s first major-label release after years of uploading songs to YouTube. Now, she is inching towards the centre of attention, as TV shows, radio programs, and magazines grow interested in her. While this is happening quickly, it isn’t propulsion coming from out of nowhere. ‘Usseewa’ represents a crest of several music and pop culture trends that were already in motion across Japan. This isn’t a new form emerging, but several existing strands uniting into something bigger.
It’s a speedy rock-centric number with some detours into hip-hop, centred around Ado’s voice, which here is as acidic and unpredictable as it ever has been, breaking into a scream seconds in. She holds nothing back on the debut, crafting something confrontational and cathartic.
Ado offers the perspective of a young adult just entering the world, but rather than the awww-shucks wonder J-pop often defaults to, she slashes back at society. The protagonist of ‘Usseewa’ is a lifelong honour student, but one that sees the realities of adult life — working, checking stocks, practising the ceremony of after-job drinks at the izakaya — are empty, and something they don’t want any part of. That hook (a particularly aggressive way of saying ‘shut up’) is a verbal kick-back against the norms making up Japanese society.
The song ‘Usseewa’ resembles most, though, is 2020’s big surprise smash hit: YOASOBI’s ‘Yoru Ni Kakeru.’ The biggest link comes from the lyrical themes of both songs. It’s true of all the Vocaloid-born projects above, along with a whole new wave of artists starting to rise up in Japan. Even if the melodies sound chipper, the words are more downbeat (some would say ‘realistic’ given the state of Japan and the world at large today). ‘Yoru Ni Kakeru’ sounded zippy and peaked with a sing-a-long chorus, but read along and you’d encounter a narrative about people throwing themselves off of buildings. ‘Usseewa’ isn’t so much a short story as much as a declaration against the glum realities of working life in Japan. Rather than accept them, Ado delivers a broadside against them, choosing themselves over the mundane life expected of folks in the nation.
Young people in Japan are less optimistic about the realities of work, given years of declining employment and news about overwork sometimes leading to death. Ado is the latest Japanese artist to score a hit by reflecting a new generation’s unease about the way life in Japan works, standing out by how upfront (and how fierce her voice is) about it. Will such songs become the norm, critiquing the work culture in not just Japan, but around the world as well? How would listeners react to the wave of songs expressing dissatisfaction with societal norms? Ado’s major hit has made waves globally, thanks to her breathtaking vocals and prowess in addressing societal problems that many can relate to.
Not bad for a song that just told a whole nation to “shut the f— up”.
Written by: Ryan Tan (22S75)
Edited by: Peh Jia Qian (22S6B), Lee Ren Kai Artemus (22A15)
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