The Idol is an elusive creature. They give us snatches of their true selves, make us feel like we are so close to them, and then run away, giggling with the knowledge that we’ll never be able to touch them.
…Okay, maybe not quite. But it is true that to be an Idol is a unique job. And for some perverse reason, we find ourselves completely enthralled in their world. But why? What is it that attracts us to a group of singers who, in reality, have little talent compared to many great artists?
I’m going to take a step back to eight years ago. I was ten, just starting to become interested in Japanese society, and had internet. In one of my long trawls through the hundreds of geocities websites, I found a website by a girl who was talking about her exchange to Japan. Throughout the entry, she kept mentioning one thing. “Love Machine”. She talked about her friends performing it at school with her, how it was such a dorky but catchy song.
I was intrigued by the notion of Japanese pop, so I flicked open Kazaa, and searched. Surprisingly, the song was found, and through the pain of a 56k modem, I downloaded my first taste of Morning Musume.
The song was wonderful. I remember listening to it on repeat so often that my parents went crazy, though my mother thought it was a good tune. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that I got the idea to search for more songs from the same group. Then I moved onto PVs, and finally, I stumbled onto Hello! Morning.
I couldn’t understand a thing they were saying, but I didn’t need to. They were funny, bouncy, and seemed to have no fear of making fools of themselves. I quickly fell in love with the strong attitude of Yuko, and to a lesser degree, Yossie. By the time I’d gotten around to seeing them live, any issues in their performance were forgotten. I knew their favourite colours, foods, their funniest skits, the words to their songs. In one year, I’d become a wota.
I fell in love with them because they showed me themselves. I was a tomboy who was known for my taking control of situations – in Yuko I saw the woman I wanted to become. In Yossie, the girl I already was. They were people I would want to know in real life, to be friends with.
And that’s, to me, the magic of an idol. The attachment they create with you isn’t just of a fan enjoying a song, but more of an emotional bond. You feel like you know those girls, that you have a personal investment in their growth and wellbeing. You’re with them for so many years, you see them grow and change into beautiful adults from dorky teenagers who don’t even know how to walk.
For example: I’m not a huge Risako fan, per se, but when I saw some of her recent lives, my heart swelled with pride to see how much she’s improved her singing. I just wanted to give her a hug and let her know how well she was doing. Even the ones who seem to be already the prefect performers change in their own ways. Having being a Takahashi Ai fan from the beginning, it makes me happy to watch how she’s become such a strong and confident woman.
I have been with H!P for many years now. Even when their music went through a period of me disliking it, I stayed with the groups and continued to support them. Why? Because I loved seeing the girls be themselves, and learning more about them. It was no longer about the music, but the Idols.
I am an Idol fan because I like knowing the people behind the voices. I like feeling like I'm a part of their world. And while some of it might be an illusion, I don't really mind. Because they've managed to find a spot in my heart which I don't think they'll ever vacate.
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