Teens have long had a presence on the country's charts, but the stars have gotten younger lately.
Mana Ashida is the most famous child in Japan, and that's saying something. The seven-year-old has starred in a dozen movies over the past three years, been in enough commercials to warrant a 13-minute-long YouTube mashup of them, and co-headlined the ratings-smash Marumo No Okite, a drama program featuring a talking dog.
But Ashida's biggest claim to ubiquity is music. Alongside Marumo co-star and fellow seven-year-old Fuku Suzuki, she recorded the hit "Maru Maru Mori Mori!," an infectious slice of Chuck-E-Cheese pop that made Ashida and Suzuki the youngest artists to ever appear in the Japanese music charts' top 10. "Maru Maru Mori Mori!" stuck around for the rest of 2011, and Ashida has since released more singles and a mini-album, Happy Smile that sold solidly. Most impressively, respected Japanese advertising agency Dentsu named Ashida the sixth best Japanese "product" of 2011—placing her in front of hybrid cars and emergency supplies.
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Ashida, who released her latest song on May 16, stands as an extreme example of the Japanese music industry's recent embrace of young performers. For more than half a century, the country has turned barely adolescent singers into stars, but over the past year the number of groups packed with school-aged children has been rising as the actual ages of the members keeps falling. This shift is in large part a result of a clever business model that has been used for decades but has seen its biggest success recently.
The most popular of these groups is a collection of five boys dubbed, strangely, Sexy Zone. With an average age of 14 and one member coming in at 11, they made news by being the youngest group to ever be "debuted" by the prolific, influential talent agency Johnny & Associates, which has been behind some of Japan's biggest boy bands of the past 20 years. Their two singles, "Sexy Zone" and "Lady Diamond," both premiered at No. 1. They've also raised a few eyebrows thanks to comments made by Johnny's president Johnny Kitagawa, who said he chose the members considering "the sexiness of men" and named the group after "Michael Jackson's sexiness."
Johnny & Associates, celebrating their 50-year anniversary in 2012, can claim a lot of responsibility for this youthful boom. The agency's strategy of training male idols extensively prior to their debuts—often as "Johnny's Jr.s," a sort of developmental league for J-Pop—has been adopted by other talent firms in Japan and in Korea. Groups start out in their teens in order to attract similarly aged and younger fans, an audience that will hopefully stick around as they grow up. It mirrors the model used by Disney—recall that period of time when Miley Cyrus and The Jonas Brothers made the jump from kid-show stars to chart-topping stars—with one key difference. Whereas Disney stars mostly stick to Disney-related media to build up a teen and tween audience, Johnny's groups appear everywhere, in as many TV shows and movies and commercials as they can.
The renewed fascination with youth comes at a time where Japan faces a rapidly aging population and a falling birthrate
Japan's infatuation with young performers existed before Johnny & Associates, kicking off after World War II with the singer Misora Hibari. Born Kato Kazue in 1937, she began gaining attention in the mid 1940s for singing boogie-woogie songs full of lyrics focusing on adult themes, and by the age of 12 she had the highest-selling single of the post-war era. Hibari was the target of criticism in the media at the time, says University of Chicago associate professor of modern Japanese literature Michael K. Bourdaghs in his recent book Sayonara Amerika, Sayonara Nippon. "Hibari represented a troubling new trend in postwar popular culture, a breaking down of the boundary between the cultures of adults and children," he writes.