The Rise and Fall of AKB48: Japan’s Biggest Girl Group
Is it the end for the group’s Cinderella formula?
Over 500 girls. 60 million CDs sold. The title of the best selling girl group of all time.
For better or worse, AKB48 has been one of Japan’s defining music acts. The group’s domination over the domestic music industry can be only compared to Marvel’s universe. It was a phenomenon that seemed impossible to stop.
And yet, the impossible may become true. After over fifteen years at the top, Japan’s most popular group has lost some of its’ lustre. The fans are jumping the ship; the journalists are saying it’s the end.
Normally I would brush it off as a non-interesting story — after all a continuous success for over a decade is nothing to scoff about; the diminishing interest is a natural progression of time.
But AKB48 has shown it’s not going to give up without a fight.
Before we get into how AKB48 became the cultural hegemon it’s important to explain what stands behind its “girl group” moniker, because the description doesn’t scratch the surface of AKB48’s activities. The version closer to truth can be found on the group’s Spotify profile which explains AKB48 as an “all-female Japanese theatre troupe/musical unit”.
The theatre part is particularly important because that’s how AKB48 had started off: giving daily performances, constituting of singing and talk sections. At its very beginning, AKB48 was composed of 20 girls, who performed on stage in Akibahara, Tokyo. Then came the teams: A, B and K; each meant to perform at different nights. Before long the group has diversified into releasing singles and albums and reached TV. From then on the group sailed smoothly scoring dedicated TV shows and selling out concerts.
In space of five years, the group went from a mere curiosity to the biggest name in the country.
The success of AKB48 has been nothing short of a miracle. Japan has been reluctant to ditch the physical format as quickly as America did, but the industry still felt the effect of the Internet’s expansion. The new century welcomed the music business with a nosedive. Japan as a whole wasn’t in good condition, having only realized the devastating effects of the bubble crash in the 90s (now referred to as the “lost decade”). People realized it wasn’t going to get better, and so the media responded. Once popular romance shows were no longer en vogue, replaced by slice-of-live stories about plucky underdogs rising through the corporate chain. Idols and their bubblegum pop had their place stolen by rock acts and singer-songwriters.
The only female idol act left standing was a group called Morning Musume, who by 2003 was already running out of steam. When AKB48 debuted in 2005 there was no one left standing.
Then Akimoto Yasushi came along. A veteran in the show-business scene; he was an accomplished TV writer and songwriter. He was familiar with idol group production as well, having worked with Onyanko Club, a gathering of high school students turned popular singers.
It would be easy to chalk up the success of AKB48 to Akimoto’s brilliantly foreseeing the gap in the market. But it’s not true. In an interview with IT Media he admitted AKB48 was a realization of his own desires:
If I were to speak about what I’d felt back then, I had been constantly doing radio and TV work. I didn’t know how much time the audience would spend on listening or watching. While I was watching rock bands grow from performing at small theaters to bigger venues I realized “There is something amazing about seeing an audience with your own eyes”.
That’s how the legend of AKB48 was born. In a small theatre with a capacity of two hundred, on an eighth-floor of a chain store, Don Quijote’s building.
1. “Idols you can meet” concept
Contrary to the previous idol groups — compromised of untouchable beauties — AKB48 were marketed as girls next door with a “idols you can meet” catchphrase. One of the selling points of the group has been the handshake events, during which fans can chat and shake hands (duh) with their favourites.
Akimoto wasn’t picky. In an interview with IT Media, he revealed that during auditions he didn’t look at girls’ looks or weight. Even lack of talent wasn’t a deal-breaker, he actively dismissed gifted singers or dancers. What he really wanted was a group of underdogs; diamonds in the rough.
His tastes found reflection in his choice of the face of the group (referred to as “center”). His pick, Maeda Atsuko was an awkward fourteen years old, chosen because she burst into tears at the idea of leading the group. Akimoto believed in the power of the Cinderella story, and Maeda — “the least fitting person to fill the position” was the perfect person to undergo a transformation from bumbling teen to a star.
2. Knowing the target audience
From the very beginning, Akimoto’s goal for the group was to amass a following of dedicated fans rather than appeal to the general public. Way back in 2000, in an interview with The Nikkei, Akimoto predicted the diminishing role of television as a medium and the rising importance of fanbase:
The era when hits were backed by the public has ended. From now on, just like with Internet, a significant number of hits will be supported by the least common multiple. Media, that are explored individually will be the breeding grounds for hits. A small number of people, who fixate onto something will become the core and those who can relate will follow like a fallen domino, making the trend mainstream.
Akimoto followed his word and pushed the focus on the core group to the maximum.
One of the group’s biggest selling points has been handshake events (exactly what it says on the tin), a brief moment of contact between artists and fans. The initiative was inspired by a lucky accident: power outrage in the theatre. The group, with no means of performing, took time to chat to fans and shake their hands.
In 2008, three years after the group came onto the scene, Akimoto came under scrutiny for his business methods. AKB48 released re-recording of their first single “Sakura no Hanabiratachi”. The new version (appropriately titled Sakura no Hanabiratachi 2008) came with a special prize: the right to participate in a handshake event. The amazing opportunity came with a hefty price tag: a hopeful fan would have to present all 44 solo posters, that were attached to the CDs at random. Even in case of swapping the duplicates, the collection would set one’s back 50,000 yen.
The harsh terms caught the eye of the government and the event was eventually stopped. But it didn’t mean the end for the handshake events —on the contrary, they became a staple for the group. Akimoto had merely forgo the ridiculous rules and included a handshake event ticket in every single release. And that was possible due to:
3. The continuous line-up changes
The continuous addition of members was a necessity. As time went by it turned out the young (often barely legal) members couldn’t handle the stress of nearly daily performances. Akimoto called for another round of auditions and in April 2006 seventeen girls joined becoming Team K.
Soon new business avenues came by as Akimoto received a proposition from a friend to conduct a business in Nagoya. He agreed and in June 2008 the management announced a plan to open a new theatre. Of course, the new venue meant more members were needed. Twenty-two girls were chosen to take a mantle of AKB’s sister team of SKE48, named after Nagoya’s district of Sakae. Meanwhile, AKB48 had already undergone more rounds of auditions and added a team B; altogether the franchise had over 60 members.
And that was just the beginning. SKE48 turned out to be another success for Akimoto, prompting the creation of more branches. Three years later, in 2011, Japan saw the birth of NMB48 (Nanba 48) in Osaka; HKT48 (Hakata 48) in Fukuoka and even the first overseas team, JKT48 (Jakarta 48) in Indonesia. In 2015 NGT48 (Niigata 48) joined, and finally in 2017 came the last addition to the AKB family, STU48 (Setouchi 48).
It’s important to note the line-ups weren’t set in stone. Firstly, the group has implemented a “graduation system”: meaning every member was free to leave when they wanted to do so. Secondly, in the case of a mass exodus (and as a means of preventing all popular members from congesting in one team), the management shuffled girls around.
4. Malleable concept
Perhaps a hardcore fan could point out the differences between all those regional groups, but to an average person like me, they looked virtually the same. NMB48 may have a leopard print for a logo (surely a nod to Osaka’s women's penchant for animal motives) and Setouchi performed on shipboard instead of regular theatre, but music-wise they sang the same cheery, upbeat tunes.
AKB48 was like a McDonald’s — you knew what to expect. The group was a gold mine for marketers. Its sheer size allowed the companies to pick the members they wanted plus, in case of employing a whole team, the group was instantly recognizable due to an insane number of people present.
Businesses took advantage of the groups’ malleable concept. Gree, an Internet media company, partnered with Akimoto’s management to create SDN48, a “sexier” version of AKB48. Japan’s biggest company, Toyota used the group’s “idols you can meet” concept and turned it on its head. The car manufacturer-sponsored Team 8 was promoted as “idols going to meet fans” and had the members travel to different parts of Japan, instead of performing in the theatre.
More recent years saw the birth of Yoshimotozaka46, a collaboration with Yoshimoto Kogyo Holdings, one of the biggest entertainment groups in Japan. Just like AKB48, Yoshimotozaka46 was a big scale group. The only difference was that it was compromised of middle-aged male comedians instead of young girls.
5. Letting people decide
In 2006, a year after the group found their home in Akihabara, AKB48 was about to make a leap and switch from theatre-only activities to releasing singles. The first two: “Sakura no Hanabiratachi” (Cherry Blossom Petals) and “Skirt, Hirari” (Skirt, Fluttering) were sung by the original Team A, but by the time the third physical single, “Aitakatta” (I Missed You) rolled by the plan was to include the new team. The problem is the print turned out to be less forgiving than a stage: it was impossible to fit all 37 girls on a single jacket.
Akimoto had to make a cut. In the end, twenty girls were chosen for the single cover, while the remaining seventeen had to be satisfied by inclusion on a B-side song. From then on, it became a standard for management to choose members for a specific single. One event, one lineup — just like in sports.
And just like in sports not everyone agreed with the management’s decisions. Accusations of favouring certain members have rounded the Internet on numerous occasions. While the system remained in place, the management did try to appease the fans with an event called Senbatsu (General Election). As Akimoto explained:
At first, I used to pick sixteen members by myself. But then fans said things like “Akimoto doesn’t get it.” So I thought let’s do something like Baseball’s All-Star Game.
The idea was simple: once a year AKB48 was to release a special single with one voting ballot included inside. Twenty-one members with the most votes would sing and appear in a music video for the next single; the first sixteen of them guaranteed preferential treatment when it came to TV appearances; the number one pick would take the center spot during all activities.
The first General Election in 2009 was a small event, with an obvious outcome: Akimoto’s pick, Maeda Atsuko grabbed the number one spot. But by the very next year, General Election brought first excitement as Oshima Yuko stole the crown.
The event has become AKB48’s crowning jewel and the greatest realization of Akimoto’s plan of creating dedicated fandom. The fans have been buying albums en masse just to see their favourite triumph. The practise has been so widespread that to this day AKB48 is criticized for fans dumping the leftover CDs in the streets.
Back in the last decade, during the group’s prime, General Election was an event comparable to major sports’ finals. The media was in frenzy. Starting from 2011 it became a national event. Nikkan Sport Magazine ran a daily feature on every single member — 152 in total — for almost two months. Kodansha Publishing released a “General Election” guidebook. Cinemas were screening the show. All this culminated in votes shooting up from the previous year’s 300,000 to crossing a million. Atsuko won with over 100,000 votes; two years earlier she needed just 4,000 of them.
5. Embracing the new
The event itself wouldn’t be enough to carry the group if not for the personalities. AKB48 wasn’t the first group to attempt the “graduation system”, preceded by the aforementioned Morning Musume. It crashed and burned the moment popular members left.
The problem is people get attached. There’s nothing quite like an original cast and their substitutes often have to deal with the brunt of anger from disgruntled fans. Akimoto never tried to replace the beloved members; he liked the novelty. Throughout AKB48’s career, he has always been supportive of the odd eggs.
In fact, most of the girls were given a free hand. The girls themselves were responsible for doing their makeup and figuring out what to say during their segments.
The second center Oshima Yuko was nothing like Maeda. She was a talented dancer with a bubbly personality and experience in show business. Oshima was a polished product; anthesis of AKB48’s philosophy. At first, Akimoto didn’t see her in the group; she only got in during the second auditions. In a way, her story was also a Cinderella story: she went against management’s prejudices to defeat their favourite.
Oshima and Maeda went back and forth, both winning the crown on two occasions (2009 and 2011 went to Maeda, 2010 and 2012 to Oshima). But it doesn’t mean the group remained static. Besides already mentioned “team shuffles”, AKB48 held “rock-paper-scissors” tournaments and singing contests, allowing the less-known members to show off their skills.
The group bore peculiar talents like Shimazaki Haruna, one of the most controversial figures in the group’s history. Shimazaki’s cold attitude (refusing to do any sort of fanservice) and biting remarks towards AKB48 followers, brought her a group of fervent supporters and an equally big regiment of haters.
And finally, it brought Japan Sashihara Rino, now a bonafide star. Loud and opinionated, she was one of the most promising members of the group before a “sex scandal” got her demoted and transferred to Fukuoka. Sashihara’s determination to get from rock bottom back to the top and her work to raise the profile of the Fukuoka’s branch made her the perfect third center.
By the time Sashihara’s run had hit its course AKB48 seemed unstoppable. Most of the original line-up had been seamlessly replaced and Sashihara became arguably the most successful member, dominating the once unpenetrable variety shows.
The first cracks started to appear because of Akimoto’s own doings. Instead of adding more sister groups he diversified and collaborated with Sony Records to create Nogizaka46 and Keyakizaka46. Keyakizaka46 was the opposite of the bubbly AKB48 and quickly carved its niche as a moody, edgy group with an unorthodox choreography. Nogizaka46 turned out to be a thorn in AKB48’s side. Their concept was much closer to AKB48’s one, and the group was widely recognized as a prettier, more refined version of the originator. Both groups managed to catch the attention of women — a target that was always out of AKB48’s reach.
The downfall trend was a mix of different causes. The overexposure, the negative impact on the environment, shady business strategies and finally scandals (the most prominent being the assault of Yamaguchi Maho in 2019), all of this negatively impacted the group’s popularity.
Today there is little left of AKB48’s past glory. Sashihara left the group with no clear replacement and the group has lost its spot at Kouhaku, the country’s most prestigious singing contest. It would be easy to squeeze everything left of the group and focus on (gradually diminishing) fanbase. Instead, Akimoto decided on the general upheaval. New personalities weren’t enough, the whole group was for a revamp.
The releases have been slashed from four singles per year to one. The music videos signalled back to the roots: gone were the sparkly costumes, replaced by good-old school uniforms seen in the group’s first hit. The freshness came in a form of new choreography, meant to revitalize AKB48 as a dance-focused team; and the new center, tomboy-ish Okada Nana.
But in my eyes, the most important step was to admit defeat. Two of their new shows bluntly describe their downfall: “Surpassed by Nogizaka, AKB48. A lot of things happened, it’s time for great reversal on Tokyo TV” and “Lately, have you heard anything about AKB48? Let’s do something together?”.
AKB48 is portrayed as a defeated Goliath, ready to strike once again. It’s the Cinderella story all over again. “We’re at the rock bottom” is what AKB48 seems to say, but is the public ready to buy into the magic once again?
