We’ve got some sweet treats in store for you guys this month!

Hey there! And a belated Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope it ended up being a lovely one for you as we try to recapture some of that sweetness here in this latest installment of the J-Music Exchange/Rate 💝

If you’re already familiar with how this series works, you probably have a pretty good idea of what we’ll be trying to do this month, so feel free to skip ahead and see if you guessed the theme correctly. But if this happens to be your first time here and you’re not entirely sure what this is all about—

The Exchange/Rate is a tandem album review series conducted every month by yours truly alongside my good friend and fellow Japanese music fan Al (from Omunibasu). Each month we decide on a specific theme with which our reviews would revolve around. We then pick out albums from our respective libraries which we think best coincides with that theme. We will then give the album we chose to the other person and vice versa (exchange), after which we then listen to and subsequently review the album we were given (rate). This project has not only allowed us to explore music beyond our libraries, but it provides an opportunity for us to see our favorite albums from a different point of view. It is our hope that this series is able to do the same for you and that you either find a new artist to try out and/or we offer you a fresh take on one of *your* favorite albums 

As I mentioned, Al and I take turns on who gets to decide the theme. This month’s theme comes courtesy of yours truly, and it’s both relatively simple and (depending on how generous you’re willing to be) still somewhat timely. We’ll be checking out albums that immediately come to mind when we think of the word “sweet.” And yes, I’m very much aware that February, the so-called month of love, is nearing an end. But just because Valentine’s Day is technically behind us doesn’t mean we can’t continue showing a little appreciation for some absolutely delightful, heart-melting albums. After all, sweetness isn’t something that needs to be confined to a single day on the calendar 😉

To that end, I had Al check out Sugar Mellow by singer-songwriter and Sundae May Club frontwoman Koyuki Ura. You can catch his review of it over at the Omunibasu Substack!

Al, in turn, had me take a listen to Tegami by voice actresses Takahashi Rie, Nagaku Yuki, and Kouno Marika; collectively known as EARPHONES.

Let’s run it!

ーー

Originally created as a fictional group within the Sore ga Seiyuu! manga series, EARPHONES (イヤホンズ) is a vocal unit comprised of voice actresses Takahashi Rie, Kouno Marika, and Nagaku Yuki. The group officially debuted in June 2015 with the release of their first single, “Mimi no naka e.” Since their inception, they’ve released multiple albums and singles, many of which have been used as tie-ins with anime titles and other media, most notably the anime adaptation of the aforementioned Sore ga Seiyuu!

＜Ｔｅｇａｍｉ (手紙)＞
(＊Spotify link to the full album)

CDJapan Affiliate Link(s):
Tegami [Regular Edition] / Earphones
Tegami [w/ Blu-ray, Limited Edition] / Earphones

＜T ｒａｃｋｌｉｓｔ＞

０１・在りし日/arishihi
０２・タイムカプセル/time capsule
０３・トメハネハラウ/tomehaneharau
０４・リクエスト/request
０５・だから大丈夫/dakara daijoubu
０６・ミンナゲンキカ。/minna genkika.
０７・おーる・ざ・やんぐ・ぎーくす/all the young geeks

～～～～～～～～

Ｆｅｂｒｕａｒｙ　２７，　２０２６

Ｄｅａｒ　ＥＡＲＰＨＯＮＥＳ,

I’ve been a fan of yours for quite a while now, ever since I watched the Sore ga Seiyuu anime many years ago. To say that seiyuu and the culture that revolves around it have had a ginormous impact on my life would feel like a massive understatement, as a lot of what I do and the things I love can be rooted from my many experiences with it. And I truly believe that that TV series embodies so much of what makes voice actors and actresses, and the activities you all take part in, so fulfilling to follow and why it’s evolved into a whole fandom separate from its original sources of anime & video games.

I recently had the pleasure of recommending your album from 2024, Tegami, for my friend to listen to. And although it may have fallen off many people’s radars when it first released (myself included, regrettably), I still believe it to be one of the finest works from your on-going, eleven-year run as a group. It’s been fascinating to witness the musical evolution of EARPHONES, and the shift from brighter anison pop tracks to the more somber sense of maturity in recent releases… while a bit jarring in the grand scheme of it all, it almost feels like a perfect and natural progression from a unit like yours. 

I especially adored the overarching theme of ‘letters’ shown throughout the record where we get to see a variety of perspectives, relationships and emotions that can be conveyed via a sent message; whether it’s replying to your past self and reflecting on where you are in life, or giving reassurance to a friend who’s got a lot on their plate. Heck, “Request” and how it depicts a fan expressing their appreciation for their favorite radio show makes for a touching, wholly relatable narrative, and continues to be a song that genuinely makes my eyes well up whenever I listen to it.

And what puts Tegami on another level, in my opinion, is how these communicated sentiments are amplified even further with Rieri, Marinka and Gakkyu’s vocal performances. We get to hear a more subdued tone from the trio, as you all do an incredible job capturing these feelings and really giving life to what would be words on a figurative piece of paper. Similar to your regular work as voice actresses, how you put yourselves in the shoes of these writers and take on the sheer emotions of their thoughts—whether it be through spoken word, light rapping, or even re-enacting a radio show host responding to a fan letter—evokes a very melancholic tone, yet there’s a sense of warmth that feels ever-so-comforting.

It’s a beautiful album that really shows how meaningful letters can be to write, send and/or read, and one that only present-day EARPHONES can pull off; thus making me even more excited to see where this new direction can take this group. As always, thank you for putting out great music and I look forward to your next release.

Sincerely,

A long-time fan

― Ａｌ

～～～～～～～～

＜Ｓｏｎｇｓ　ｏｆ　Ｉｎｔｅｒｅｓｔ＞

０１・在りし日/arishihi
If you’ve been following the J-Music Exchange/Rate for some time now (first off, thank you so much for doing so), you’re probably well aware of my tendency to almost always begin my reviews by talking about an album’s opening track, along with my usual justification for it (lol). It genuinely feels strange not to, at least from a writing standpoint, since that’s quite literally where the journey begins. As I’ve mentioned countless times before, I place a lot of value on the role of an album opener. It provides context for everything that follows, serving a function not unlike a book’s introduction, or even its first chapter. Context, in particular, is especially important when approaching earphone’s Tegami, given the overarching narrative that ties its songs together, beginning with Arishihi.

Something to note about this release is that it is a concept album, or an album where the tracks on it are all unified by a central theme (like, for example Nebula by Ueda Reina, which centered on “turning adversity into opportunity,” or It’s a small world by harmoe, which revolved around fairy tales; it’s interesting that all of these happen to be seiyuu projects, but I digress.) In the case of Tegami, the central theme is right there in the title itself: “tegami,” meaning “letter.” Each song explores a different situation in which we might be writing or receiving a letter. Arishihi, for instance, reads as a letter addressed to something (or someone) we’ve lost. On the surface, the lyrics paint a somewhat lighthearted image of a persona lamenting the loss of their motorcycle, which feels almost disjointed from the soft, near-choir-like ballad being performed. But the more you sit with it, the more you realize how easily that specific loss expands into something broader, or at the very least relatable.

０２・タイムカプセル/time capsule
This is something I’ll be circling back to when I go over my thoughts on Tegami as a whole, but relatability is arguably one of, if not the, album’s greatest strengths (at least in my opinion). At the very least, Time Capsule is yet another track that I imagine a lot of people would be able to connect with. Like the other songs here, it’s formatted as a letter; this time addressed to one’s self ten years into the future (hence the title), with that future self writing back. I found this one particularly amusing because I actually had to do something very similar as part of a class project back in college. Our professor tasked us with writing an autobiography, and instead of outlining our final years (since we were all still very much in our teens at the time, lol), the final section asked us to imagine ourselves ten years into the future. When I wrote mine, I didn’t give a second thought to whether I’d ever read it again, as I certainly didn’t plan on holding onto schoolwork for that long.

Unbeknownst to me, my mom did. And said project has been back in my possession for some time now. It’s actually been more than a decade since I wrote it, but here it is.

(And yes, I even had it spiral-bound and everything 🫣)

Despite having it all these years, I never once felt the urge to read it again, not until after listening to earphone’s Time Capsule. In hindsight, that reaction feels inevitable, but at the time I was genuinely surprised. First, by how little my writing voice seemed to have changed in fifteen years, which I found both amusing and oddly comforting (XD). But more than that, I was struck by how similar the tone of my younger self’s words felt to the lyrics of the song. There was that same undercurrent of uncertainty, that quiet admission that none of us truly knows how life will turn out ten or fifteen years down the line. It sounds obvious typing it out now, but I really appreciate how beautifully the song captures that feeling. More than anything, listening to it made me want to write back to my past self, to reassure him, to gently settle their unease about the unknown, and to say that things will be okay.

０４・リクエスト/request
This next track is actually one that Al wrote an entire piece about, explaining just how wonderful it is and why, and frankly doing so far better than I ever could given his own personal experiences. So if you haven’t yet already, I do highly recommend checking out his thoughts on Request over at Omunibasu. As Al notes in his write-up, Request depicts the familiar practice of sending letters to a personality hosting a radio program, with the host reading and responding to them live on air. Though I say “familiar,” there’s actually quite a bit that goes into that dynamic, something fans of idols and voice actors/actresses likely already understand well. Rather than retread ground that Al has already covered so thoroughly, I’d like to use this midpoint in the review to shift focus toward something I haven’t fully touched on yet: the music itself (lol). This is something I’ll return to shortly, but one thing I noticed about Tegami as a concept album is how easy it is for your attention to drift toward the imagery and themes being presented. The narratives are so fleshed out and integral to the songs’ construction that at times it almost feels like the imagery is the primary driving force, with the music serving as secondary support. More on that later.

For now, though, one thing that genuinely surprised me over the course of the album was just how beautiful the trio’s harmonies are. It’s not so much a misconception as it is a kind of false equivalence when it comes to voice actors and actresses. Just because their profession revolves around using their voice doesn’t automatically mean that singing ability comes naturally. Of course, singing can absolutely be learned, and many voice actors/actresses reach a level where their vocals are more than serviceable, especially given how much the industry now expects them to perform songs as part of their roles (which, incidentally, is another topic Al has written about as well). That said, there’s still a noticeable difference between someone utilizing their technical command of their voice to sing, and someone who possesses an innate musical sensibility. And listening to this album, I rarely, if ever, felt that divide. Whether the production team simply happened to assemble three voices that complement each other perfectly, or whether the chemistry was the result of something far more intentional, I can’t say. But whatever the case may be, the vocal blend here is genuinely impressive.

０６・ミンナゲンキカ。/minna genkika.
As much as I’ve had my own experience writing to a future version of myself like in Time Capsule, no other song on Tegami resonated with me quite as deeply as Minna Genkika. The song portrays someone writing to their family and friends back in their hometown, detailing their supposedly positive experiences living alone in the city after moving away. Up to this point in the album, with the exception of Arishihi, where the recipient technically cannot respond, the latter halves of the songs tend to feature some kind of reply. In Time Capsule, it’s the future self writing back. In Request, it’s the radio host responding. The letters we’ve encountered so far have also largely been honest attempts at communication. Conversely in that regard, Minna Genkika. is the only song on tegami where the writer is being disingenuous about their experiences, where the letter being written isn’t an act of truth, but of concealment. Rather than receiving a response in the second half, we instead witness the writer choosing not to send the letter at all. It’s revealed that much of what was written was a lie, and the song pivots into a quiet unraveling, with the persona left alone to confront the despair they were trying to hide.

I’ve occasionally spoken on the blog about my own experience of moving away from my home country. Fittingly enough, it’s been close to ten years now. While I’ve largely adjusted to life where I am, I’d be lying if I said I’ve never found myself in a similar mental space to the narrator in the latter half of this song. There were times I couldn’t bring myself to tell friends back home how things were really going. Part of it was not wanting them to worry. Part of it, if I’m being honest, was shame in not wanting to admit that things weren’t as smooth or successful as I might’ve implied. I’ve been there. Maybe not staring at a handwritten letter on a desk like the person in the song, but at the digital equivalent, a phone screen or a blank message window, hovering for hours trying to find the right words. Only to close it. To log off. To tell myself I’d do it another time. And then weeks, sometimes months, would pass. Listening to Minna Genkika. brought me right back to those moments. The song captures that quiet isolation so precisely, the gap between what we say and what we actually feel, that it became almost uncomfortably relatable.

＜Ｗｈａｔ　Ｉ　ｔｈｉｎｋ　ｏｆ　Ｔｅｇａｍｉ (手紙)＞

In today’s digital age, Japan arguably stands as one of the last bastions of handwritten letter-writing. I mean, when was the last time you sent one? Or received one? Not a postcard. Not a greeting card. An actual handwritten letter. Not gonna lie, it’s been a minute for me too. It’s just so much easier to fire off an email or a direct message these days. I still go to the post office every now and then, sure, but it’s usually for something work-related or to drop off a package. I’d imagine it’s the same for a lot of you. That seems to be the case in most parts of the world now. And yet, if Japan’s stationery market is anything to go by, the practice of letter-writing more than persists there. Maybe it has something to do with communication norms, the idea that written words can sometimes express feelings more directly than face-to-face conversation, especially in a culture that often emphasizes subtlety and “reading the room.” Whatever the case may be, it does make earphone’s Tegami, an entire album centered around letters, feel like a curious novelty, especially for those who didn’t grow up within a strong letter-writing culture.

One thing the album indirectly highlights (whether intentionally or not) is that letters operate on a system of trust. Unlike a face-to-face conversation, which unfolds through immediate back-and-forth exchange, letters require patience. There’s the delay in sending, the wait for it to arrive, and then the hope that a response will come in kind. In that regard, perhaps Japan being widely considered a high trust society plays into their continued use of the medium as well, but I digress. It’s a slower, more deliberate form of communication, and perhaps even a more intimate one because of it. Letters can be written to anyone, for almost any reason, to someone close, to someone distant, even to ourselves. As a concept album, Tegami does a tremendous job of illustrating the sheer emotional weight that kind of communication can carry.

Now, separating the concept from the album, I think EARPHONES (at least within the context of tegami) largely accomplished what they set out to do. As I mentioned earlier, I was genuinely surprised by how well the three voice actresses blend in harmony. If anything, that vocal synergy might be the group’s most defining characteristic, especially when compared to other voice actress units (though admittedly, I’m not the foremost authority in that space, so take that with a grain of salt). Individually, though, their singing didn’t blow me away, but they are very much pleasant. Tracks like Time Capsule and Minna Genkika. were also interesting for how they incorporated electric guitars into otherwise gentle, pastel-toned arrangements. There were moments where I almost found it funny that despite how heavy some of the lyrics became in songs like Tomehaneharau or Minna Genkika., you wouldn’t immediately guess it from how soft and airy the production feels. That said, purely from an instrumentation standpoint, there isn’t necessarily anything here that feels wildly unprecedented within the broader landscape of voice actor/actress projects. The arrangements are solid, fitting, and competently executed, but otherwise not particularly revolutionary.

＜Ｍｙ　Ｒａｔｉｎｇ＞


３.７５ ｏｕｔ ｏｆ ５

＆

７.５ ｏｕｔ ｏｆ １０

There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, of course. I don’t think the goal of Tegami was ever to overwhelm listeners with sheer musical prowess at the expense of its being beautiful conceptual work. If anything, keeping the instrumentation restrained allows the thematic focus to remain front and center. That said, because there is a certain novelty to the premise, as I mentioned earlier, and there’s always the possibility that it could wear off over time, and that my (or others’) valuation of the album might diminish with more frequent listens. It certainly helps that I haven’t encountered many releases quite like this, where the central theme is both so broad in scope and yet so clearly defined in execution. It also helps that this is a seven-track release. Had it stretched into a full-length album, the concept might have risked overstaying its welcome. As it stands, though, it feels just right; concise, cohesive, and emotionally resonant without feeling overextended. Short and sweet, all in all, and in the best possible way.

ーー

What are your guys’ thoughts on Tegami by EARPHONES? Let us know down in the comments! And while you’re at it, which albums come to mind for you when you think of the word “sweet”? We’d love to know!

Before I let you guys go, don’t forget to check out Al’s review of Sugar Mellow by Koyuki Ura over at the Omunibasu Substack if you haven’t already!

Happy Listening!