SHIBUYA, 1989 - LEVIN & SYLVIA - Nostalgic Lo-fi J pop music for Tokyo Nights

It was the final year of Shōwa, 1989, when time felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to change.

I was a university student, though you wouldn't have guessed it from the car I drove - a brand-new, white Toyota Corolla Levin. One of my closest friends, someone I'd known since our days at Gakushuin Middle School, also drove a new white Levin. We often took our cars out together, racing through the winding roads of Hakone late into the night.

He, more than I, would also head into Shibuya after dark, slipping into the neon chaos behind the wheel of his gleaming coupe. The Levin, though front-wheel drive by then, still had sharp handling - sporty enough for us. But more than anything, it was the design. That car was beautiful. A wide rear wing arched over the trunk like a badge of rebellion.

Despite being broke students, we customized them as best we could. Swapping wheels for alloy ones, installing glowing rear speakers - all the rage at the time - and sticking cheap racing decals, the kind you could buy for 200 yen, onto the bumpers and windows. That was the vibe: cheap, loud, and proud.

There was another guy at my university who drove a turbocharged red Nissan Silvia - clearly in another league. He came from a wealthy family in Azabu and looked every bit the part: stylish, confident, and good-looking. I remember he'd studied in the U.S., and a few years later landed a job at one of the most popular ad agencies of the time. We weren't close, but we both rode motorcycles, and once or twice, he came by the new two-bedroom apartment I was living in alone - a place my parents had just built.

And then there was the guy with the white Soarer, plates from Kobe. A bit of a delinquent, but a decent guy. We hung out pretty often. He'd tear through the Tokyo expressways with a rotating cast of girls in the passenger seat, his car glowing like something out of a dream.

That was a good time - when cars sparkled like stars, and owning one felt like freedom itself.

Of course, most students didn't have cars. But even then, the car culture ran deep. Some would burn through part-time jobs just to buy a used Levin. The older generation - rear-wheel drive - was still around, and my younger brother even drove one.

Back then, there were no mobile phones. CDs were just starting to appear. Most of us still used cassette tapes, recording our favorite songs off vinyl and heading out into the night - to drive, to race, to fall in love.

It was a sweet, innocent era.
A time full of small dreams, neon lights, and cassette-tape romance.