The Rise Of Kenshi Yonezu: The J-Pop Star Shares 7 Milestones That Changed His Career

Finding "a sense of lightness" in his music has been a personal catharsis for Kenshi Yonezu. After decades in the industry, the Japanese star has come into his own by releasing pent-up emotions and beginning again through his creative process.

Despite (or perhaps because of) his emotional peaks and valleys, Yonezu has risen to the top of Japan's musical echelon. An illustrator and graphic designer, Yonezu's thoughtful blend of electronic music, alt-rock and J-pop has not only resonated with listeners in country, but audiences globally. To wit, his two U.S. shows in April (at Radio City Music Hall in New York and L.A.'s YouTube Theater) sold out.

His artistic journey grew from a lifelong connection to music and the visual arts. Born and raised in Tokushima, a city several hours outside of Osaka, the young artist set foot into this calling with a school band but soon realized he was better suited to walk solo. Then, he made his way into the eclectic world of Vocaloid, where, under the alias "Hachi," he shared his compositions on the online platform Nico Nico Douga — and it didn't take long for his talent to gain considerable notoriety.

After crafting two albums in that digital dominion, Yonezu decided to put out music using his real name and voice. In May 2012, he started a new chapter with the release of Diorama, a debut that heralded a career as introspective as it is visionary. A prime example is "Lemon," a beautiful, achingly moving ballad now considered an emblem of modern J-pop. The single still holds the title of the most-viewed Japanese music video on YouTube and was named "Song Of The Year" by Billboard Japan in 2018 and 2019.

Denoted by constant genre experimentation, Yonezu's creations are not just songs; they are a sensory overload that embodies unspoken feelings and the strange beauty that life often carries, always complemented by artwork drawn by his own hand. Consider, for instance, the mystical and elusive atmosphere cradling "Spirits of the Sea," a theme made for the animated movie Children of the Sea; the comforting melancholia of "Flower Wall"; or the resilience that downpours "Bow and Arrow," his latest composition.

Learn more: 10 Neo J-Pop Artists Breaking The Mold

This inner complexity is no accident. Each song ties to Yonezu's lived experiences — what he has felt, endured, and contemplated over time. This becomes especially noticeable in the emotional transition between his fourth studio album, STRAY SHEEP (2020), and its follow-up, 2024's LOST CORNER. While STRAY SHEEP grapples with the search for meaning in a fractured world, LOST CORNER embraces a calmer, more hopeful perspective that reflects his current state of mind.

In 2023, he achieved another groundbreaking milestone with "Kick Back," his opening for the hit anime "Chainsaw Man," which became the first Japanese song to be certified gold by the Recording Industry Association of America. Still, what he describes as his "greatest turning point" is the process of bringing "Spinning Globe" to life — the main theme of The Boy and the Heron, Hayao Miyazaki's Oscar-winning animated film of 2024. A combination of Yonezu's genius and the magic of Studio Ghibli, this song bore realizations that nourished not only his artistry but also his take on existence.

With his frame of mind attuned to change, his long-awaited first world tour — which opened in Shanghai in early March, made several stops across Asia and Europe, then hit the States — materialized into something unforgettable. And with its conclusion, Kenshi Yonezu now finds himself at a crossroads, ready to turn his focus back to the studio. Below, Yonezu reflects on some of the most essential moments that have helped chart the direction of his trajectory.

The following has been edited for clarity.

My initial dream was to form a rock band, but unfortunately, that wasn't for me. It was difficult to work with so many different people, and that kind of ended up in a defeat. "Defeat" may be a strong word, but I've always wanted to be in a band. However, from there, when I started creating music, I [stumbled] upon Vocaloid, which was very intriguing, and I thought, Okay, this might be a place for me, so I dove right in. 

Then, things started going really well almost immediately — I was doing things on my own, and many people were listening to my music. But, [as I mentioned], I initially wanted to have a career in a rock band with my name and my face out. I felt like if I didn't even try to do it at least once, it would fester in me for a long time. 

II wanted to sing with my own voice and put my face and name out there. I felt like this was the last route I could take – and that's how my debut as Kenshi Yonezu came to be.

I still don't understand why so many people love and are in tune with "Lemon." It's like I'm watching this huge fire — almost like a building on fire — and it's just raging, and I can't do anything about it. But I'm also grateful because that song has helped spread my name and my music to so many different people. 

There was a part of me that had grown tired as well… that was [worn out]. So many more people knew my name and said they liked me, but on the other hand, the more they said it made me wonder, Who really knows who I am? That kind of feeling really started to pervade within me. If I walked the streets, I could hear "Lemon" out playing so many times and, in fact, that it kind of almost made me feel a little guilty because some people may not want to hear such a dark song. 

Then, some things were happening in my private life, and there was a time when I felt like perhaps I’d made a wrong turn in my life. Of course, the success of that song helped me rise as a musician, but I was also feeling a strong sense of loneliness around that time.

Ever since the release of "Lemon," there was a long period when I felt almost reproachful of myself, in a sense — and that feeling was still alive during STRAY SHEEP, even when the album was released. When I listen back to it now, I do think it can be rather dark, and sometimes I may not want to even listen to it.

As I continued to create music in what seemed like a very long night, there were all these songs and tie-ins I worked on — like the songs from "The Boy and the Heron," "Shin Ultraman," or "Chainsaw Man." And in working on these stories, it felt as though I was continuing to recreate myself.

But I'm the type of person who creates music where empathy is sort of the most integral essence, so I have to empty myself first. Whether it be the people in front of me, man-made objects, or even nature — those sorts of things or pieces that remain inside me because I think about them — I scoop them up and create music. 

So, in a way, music serves almost as a medium between me and the outside world. That's how I was creating music for all these tie-ins — music acted as a bridge between myself and these external entities. Once I finish a song, these outside entities I had accepted, leave me, and every time that happens, I become a different person from who I was. These creations served almost as a way of washing away impurities, and with each piece I create, I become someone new. And, by continuing this cycle, it made me realize that I'm alive, and my long, long night gradually — very, very slowly — turned into morning.

I realized that it was not a mistake for me to be living in this place. I eventually came to understand that living a long life means there will always be losses and mistakes will happen. By gaining that perspective, I became lighter — that's the [emotional] shift between STRAY SHEEP and LOST CORNER.

The Impact & Success Of "Kick Back"

"Kick Back" is definitely a huge milestone in my career. From the very first time I came across the "Chainsaw Man" manga series, to co-arranging the track with King Gnu's Daiki Tsuneta, to the music video directed by Yoshiyuki Okuyama — it all feels like it's linked by one continuous line. 

I was just having fun making this song and the rest just seemed to follow for some reason. 

Since I was young, I've loved [Hayao Miyazaki's] films, and ever since I started drawing or creating music, I've been really influenced — not only by his creative side but also by his approach to creativity. 

In my youth, I never had somebody that I could call a mentor, and I've always done everything myself. But upon seeing Hayao Miyazaki — in documentaries or reading about him — he was very tough on himself and other people as well. As a child, it almost felt like he was telling me I could not let things slide, almost like scolding me through these mediums. He was almost like a father figure in a way. So, for me to create the music and those lyrics for the film… I don't think I'll ever experience a greater honor in my life. 

Actually, the instant after I finished creating "Spinning Globe," I almost felt I would be happy to quit music — it was that much of an honor. In a sense, I feel like I'm just kind of spending the rest of my life that's available for me now, and it will be a long, long rest of my life. But yeah, I should spend that time being happy and doing creative, inspirational things.

Once the album LOST CORNER was complete, I felt it was time I returned to my roots, and I was genuinely curious to see what would happen if I were to create new music now by tapping into the mindset I had, back when I used to work on my own. 

I think I'm also interested to see how far I can go on my own, now that I’ve had the experience of working with different people. I wanted to go to a place of lightness – I mean this in a good way, and somewhere that wouldn’t pull me into becoming overly serious. For that, I think I needed to travel lightly, which meant working solo.

After creating LOST CORNER, many of the changes I'd been carrying inside me finally fell into place. I had worked on a number of songs — for example, "Kick Back" — but it was really with "Spinning Globe" that I felt this long, long journey had come to an end. I found myself in a sunny, vast space in nature, and it felt incredibly good. There was that sky and the ocean — just like in the last track, "Lost Corner," from the album LOST CORNER. That was actually the image I had in mind as I created the title song. 

The last stop of my world tour was in L.A., and it looked exactly like the picture I had in my head — it surprised me to no end. For example, in the album artwork, there are these stop signs, and they were just like the ones I had imagined when I created it. These things really led me to believe that it was written in the stars that my last show would be in L.A.

From now on, I must create new songs from scratch again, and it takes an awfully long time — so much that I can hardly wrap my head around it. But beyond that, I believe there are people out there, like the ones I met through my world tour, who have been waiting for me for a long time. The thought of them makes my body feel lighter, and it makes me feel much more positive. That is how I want to continue. I hope to keep creating music in the future.