List of Translations

These translations are predominantly of lyrics by Takashi Matsumoto, originally of Happy End (all Matsumoto lyrics are marked with the symbo...

August 14, 2025

Translation: The Station by the Sea (Happy End)

The Station by the Sea (Ohtaki/Matsumoto) was written in the Yudemen era. It was one of the songs Takashi was most excited about. Ohtaki set it to music and played it nervously for the lyricist, who liked it. But Ohtaki himself remained unconvinced, and in the end it wasn't recorded for Yudemen.

Reluctant to admit failure, however, The Station by the Sea was revived when Ohtaki got to work on his 1972 solo album (a self-titled, but its working title was "Stagecoach", and I think that's what I'll call the record from now on — great title!). He wrote new music, gave it a swamp rock arrangement, rehearsed it with his Happy End bandmates — and then, apparently still unsatisfied, left it behind once again, unfinished. 

Takashi published the lyrics in his 1973 poetry/lyric/essay collection The Wind Quartets, alongside several other Happy End songs-that-never-, or almost-were. 

And that was the end of that.

But then, last year, someone in the Happy End archival camp stumbled on a solo acoustic demo the 1970 version of The Station by the Sea. And now, according to a recent Daisy Holiday conversation between Haruomi and Shigeru themselves, the plan is to release the demo on a new Happy End EP (!!!) that will also feature Downpour City and a couple other, yet-to-be-recorded 21st century Suzuki/Matsumoto and Hosono/Matsumoto songs.

Yes! A new Happy End EP — of original songs!!! Presuming it really materializes, it'll be an amazing gift for diehards like me.

P.S.  Most of what I know about The Station by the Sea's mysterious history stems from this incredible series of posts by the Internet's foremost Ohtaki scholar.

P.P.S.  For hibachi (a kind of brazier), see wikipedia.



:::



It was late at night
when I reached the station.
The damp wind bit into my skin.
A naked light bulb
swayed back and forth
above the wooden platform.

An elderly attendant
warming himself by the hibachi
accepted my ticket
in his wrinkled hand.
I saw a worn-out man reflected
inside the sooty glass.

Memories of summer
brushed past my ears
The town I walked through
was a familiar one.
I turned a corner
and all at once
I was overcome
by the smell of the ocean.

Garbage was scattered across the beach,
fluttering in the wind.
I lay down on sand so cold
I didn't think
I had any chance of falling asleep
before sunrise.