June 5, 2003

One’s a “made-up monster.” The other’s just a “monkey.” Though sticks and stones may break bones, the name-calling is the most visible salvo in a battle between Japan’s past and present queens of pop — Namie Amuro and Ayumi Hamasaki.

Wars of succession have often been among history’s bitterest battles and though Amuro and Ayu were known to take an interest in each other’s chart and sales performances, it was believed they were friendly rivals, especially as they both belonged to the same record company.

But, according to Shukan Shincho (6/12), Japan’s queens of the airwaves are setting themselves up for a right royal rumble.

Amuro reigned supreme in Japan in 1996 and 1997 when she picked up the Grand Prize at the Japan Record Awards, the local equivalent of the Grammies.

“Everybody liked the way she lived and schoolgirls her own age regarded her as some sort of a goddess,” a sports newspaper reporter tells Shukan Shincho. “She sold wildly, but her (shotgun wedding) marriage taught the girls who idolized her that she was a real person after all.”

Following her peak years, Amuro was beset by tragedy as her mother was brutally murdered and her marriage broke apart. She’s trying desperately to get her career back on track now, but the outlook isn’t good.

“Amuro’s finished. She’ll never be the pop queen she once was,” entertainment world critic Ino Utsuki tells Shukan Shincho. “Dance music like Amuro performed is dead. And Amuro’s face is no good. The dark tan she favors may have been popular once upon a time, but people shun the look nowadays.”

Others say Amuro’s doomed because she’s aging too quickly — a disaster in Japan where cheesecake is so young, it’s almost as though it’s freshly squeezed milk cake.

“Her skin is awful. And she walks around with a pout on her face, puffing away madly on cigarettes. She’s got no self-control,” an entertainment industry writer says. “Amuro’s new CD isn’t selling. She’s dancing with men’s dance groups and attending movie previews, trying to tell the world her comeback is well and truly underway, but her popularity has plummeted so far, she’d struggle to fill a concert hall by herself now.”

While Amuro’s star is falling, Hamasaki’s seems incapable of rising any higher.

She’s been the top taxpayer among entertainers for the past two years and earned at least 1 billion yen last year.

“She’s sold 5.32 million copies of her CD and draws 70,000 people a concert. She was a resounding success in a Beijing show last year and is referred to as the diva of Asia. About the only person who can rival her for CD sales is Hikaru Utada,” the writer tells Shukan Shincho.

Hamasaki had something of a faux pas last year when she threw a tantrum in front of the Thai queen, but that hasn’t halted her momentum in any way.

“Avex (Hamasaki’s record label) only survives on the stock exchange thanks to Hamasaki. She accounts for 30 percent of the company’s income. Nobody is going to tell her off if she acts like a spoiled brat,” critic Yuichi Hirabayashi says. “Hamasaki’s often referred to as the shadow personnel manager. She puts her bit in when it comes to how the company acts regarding other performers’ promotions or events. One singer said to be on maternity leave has in reality, because of Ayu’s input, effectively been sacked.”

Hamasaki is said to have turned her attention to Amuro.

“Recently, Hamasaki keeps asking us what the ‘monkey’ is doing. Amuro made her debut while still a member of the Super Monkey’s. At least I think that’s where the name came from,” Hirabayashi tells Shukan Shincho. “Then again, I suppose Ayu can’t stand the thought of being labeled as coming from the same label as a has-been like Amuro. Let’s not forget that when Amuro came back from her maternity leave that she called Ayu a ‘make-up monster.’ With their divergent views on music and lifestyles, there’s no way those two could ever get on together.”