Idol-pop project redefines kawaii for the TikTok generation

Japan Times

6 days ago

Misa Kimura was still a student from Tatebayashi, Gunma Prefecture, when she visited Tokyo's Harajuku neighborhood for the first time. It felt like stepping into a dream.
'Every kind of clothing or accessory was just there on Takeshita Street,' recalls Kimura, now 34. 'It was like, 'Oh, I saw this on TV! I saw this in a magazine!' Everything was shiny and sparkling — I loved all of it.'
These days, she's working a few blocks from that same street, helping turn a very specific corner of Japanese pop into an exportable art form. As the main producer for Kawaii Lab, a project by entertainment agency Asobisystem that is officially stylized in all caps and with a period at the end, Kimura is leading an idol experiment with global ambitions.
Since its 2022 launch, Kawaii Lab has cooked up four high-energy groups: Fruits Zipper, Candy Tune, Sweet Steady and Cutie Street — and the initial experiment has proved successful. Every group under the Kawaii Lab umbrella has found traction on platforms like YouTube and TikTok. Fruits Zipper's 2022 single, 'Watashi no Ichiban Kawaiitokoro,' drew more than 500 million views on TikTok alone. Cutie Street's 2024 'Kawaii Dake Jya Dame Desu Ka?' nearly matched that number. Earlier this year, Fruits Zipper's dreamier synth-pop track 'Kawaii Te Magic' moved over 227,000 CDs in a single week, topping the Oricon singles chart.
Kawaii Labs' success has helped spark something of an idol renaissance. While the hyper-sweet subgenre of J-pop has always maintained a core fan base, Kimura's groups have broken through by pairing a social media-first strategy with a fresh perspective.
Whereas many legacy idol acts were produced by men imagining teenage experiences, Kimura — a former idol herself — brings a different lens entirely.
On July 20, all four Kawaii Lab groups will take the stage at Asobiexpo 2025, a celebration of Asobisystem and its trailblazing acts like Kyary Pamyu Pamyu and Atarashii Gakko!, who showed the potential of J-pop to reach a global audience. Kimura hopes to do the same — but with idols.
'I think there's something different about Japanese idol culture,' she says. 'Something that's going to be very new to the West.'
Idol beginnings
In elementary school, Kimura and her classmates fell under the spell of Morning Musume, a multimember idol group that debuted in 1997 and hit its peak around the turn of the century.
'Everyone was listening to their music. Everyone wanted to be them,' she says. 'There were a lot of elements about how they danced or dressed that you could easily imitate. That drew me in.'
That fan devotion followed Kimura into her college years in Tokyo, where she spent her free time chasing down idol shows, especially those by the high-energy unit Momoiro Clover Z, a clear sonic ancestor to today's Kawaii Lab output.
Kimura began modeling for fashion magazines like Zipper, and producing her own pop culture content. 'It's not like I wanted to be an idol, though. I always wanted to produce,' she says.
Kimura joined Asobisystem and began working behind the scenes on a group called Musubizm in 2014 — but soon found herself pulled to center stage as the group's leader.
'Having that firsthand experience allowed me to understand how the fans were feeling, and what sort of things the members themselves were going through,' Kimura says.
Musubizm disbanded in 2017, but Asobisystem was eager to launch another idol outfit, this time with Kimura as producer. She turned it down — not because she didn't want to do it, but because the structure wasn't quite there yet.
'The biggest worry I had came from when I was an idol,' she says. 'The group itself and the staff weren't really aligning. I didn't want my idols to experience that kind of environment.'
By late 2021, things began aligning. The company's brass made the pitch to Kimura again and, after confirming a few details on rehearsal time and commitments, she agreed to launch what would become Kawaii Lab.
'I definitely had hesitation at first,' she says, 'but it really was my dream to become a producer.'
A former idol herself, Misa Kimura says she doesn't want the young women she's working with to have a negative experience in the music business. Rather than chasing trends, Misa Kimura says she talks directly with Kawaii Lab idol members to learn what's grabbing their attention both online and off. |
Johan Brooks
Short-form cute
In the 1990s, Morning Musume leveraged TV for fame. In the 2010s, AKB48 pioneered the 'idols you can meet' strategy along with viral campaigns. The Kawaii Lab crew has mastered the short-form art of TikTok.
Fruits Zipper debuted in early 2022 and, within months, 'Watashi no Ichiban Kawaiitokoro' exploded on TikTok. The platform has since become the lifeblood for every Kawaii Lab outfit.
'My feed now is mostly just my idol groups now,' Kimura says with a laugh.
The strategy goes beyond just uploading content, though.
'It starts with a big theme — like for the Fruits Zipper song 'Happy Chocolate,' it was 'Let's make Reiwa's defining Valentine's song' — and I narrow it down from there,' Kimura says. 'I think how can we get people's attention, what's going viral on TikTok?'
She stresses they aren't straining to chase trends. Instead, they pay attention to what's gaining traction and learn from it. More importantly, Kimura talks directly with the members — who range from their late teens to mid-20s — to get a sense of what's capturing attention both online and off.
'I usually observe their language and behavior, and work with that too,' she says.
While some songs still touch on traditional themes like romantic love, others tackle more current emotional terrain. One recent Candy Tune single, for example, is built around the highs and lows of oshikatsu — the all-in act of passionately supporting a performer, athlete or fictional character.
New kawaii
Fruits Zipper's 2024 single 'New Kawaii' offers something close to a thesis statement for the Kawaii Lab universe. In the pre-chorus, the group sings, 'I can't believe the majority decides ... that's not very cute at all!' It's followed by a declaration — 'I'm in the minority, and that's fine' — and a rallying cry to celebrate whatever feels kawaii to you, even if it's 'people who fall asleep at work.'
Despite being central to the project's name — and featured in multiple song titles — 'kawaii' is something Kimura continues to grapple with. In interviews with Japanese media, she's described the concept as something of a curse: a label that often pressures people to conform to a narrow ideal of cuteness.
With Kawaii Lab, she's aiming to flip the script. For Kimura, kawaii is personal — everyone should be free to define it themselves.
'I want people to feel a sense of self-worth and confidence,' she says.
That philosophy shapes how she works with her performers. Kimura says regular communication on each member's goals is vital, and she often involves Asobisystem President Yusuke Nakagawa, too. She also encourages the members to participate in song creation from the ground up.
Kimura's dual background — as both idol fan and former idol — is key. In the traditional setup, those in the pop trenches aren't usually producing the music. But Kimura and other performers-turned-producers, like =Love's Rino Sashihara, are changing that model, opening up new creative possibilities in the idol world.
Back in the AKB48 era, who got to stand at the center of a single was a huge deal, sometimes decided by fan vote. In Kawaii Lab, no one is singled out. As Kimura once put it: Everyone is the protagonist.
Even with all these innovations, Kimura hasn't let go of what makes idol music sparkle. It's still uptempo, bright and just a little bit bonkers.
'I think Japanese idols are about not being too perfect, and showing people the journey of how they work their way up and grow together with the fans,' she says.
The foundation remains the same, but Kimura's take, focused on collaboration and inclusivity, feels tailor-made for the 2020s.
'I want to spread that kawaii culture to the world,' she says.