“Akū Daisakusen Srungle” is a robot anime produced by Kokusai Eigasha that began airing in January 1983. This track, the opening theme for the first half of the series, was created by the duo of Yu Yamamoto (Director/Lyrics) and Masayuki Yamamoto (Composer/Arranger).
While Masayuki Yamamoto is well-known for the comical musicality he established with the “Time Bokan” series, he is also a versatile composer who traverses diverse genres such as blues, rock, folk, and enka. In this piece, he conducts an experiment by infusing funk and jazzy sounds into the mix.
If I were to describe my first impression of this song in one word, it would be: “It felt like something incredible was about to begin, yet it never did, and then it simply ended.”
From the intense intro to the opening phrase, the music charges forward on a rhythm filled with momentum and thrills. However, it never evolves beyond that point. It left me with a sense of bewilderment—as if I were trapped in a mysterious spiral (distinct from mere stagnation) and then suddenly cast out at the end.
A Structure Where the Dominant Fails to Keep Its Promise
The source of this strange sensation becomes relatively clear when analyzed musically.
The end of the phrase “Gorilla, Gorilla, Gorilla, Srungle” finishes on a dominant chord—a harmony that, in tonal music, functions to plant an expectation in the listener that “something is coming next.” Ordinarily, the standard approach would be to proceed into a dramatic development or transition to another section that further builds anticipation.
In this song, however, the music turns on its heel at the peak of this dominant tension and naturally returns to the starting point. Furthermore, this return sounds like a completely logical conclusion, which is why it feels like a mysterious spiral.
Was this a “betrayal” of the listener’s expectations? Upon first hearing it, I wondered if it was a “crouch before a great leap”—a build-up of anticipation suggesting that such a long delay must surely lead to a monumental climax.
Yet, looking at the song as a whole, it becomes clear that this loop itself is the destination, achieved with a high degree of craftsmanship. In other words, “this spiral was the promise” from the very beginning, and that promise is fulfilled quietly but surely.
The Dynamics of Incantation and Avoiding Sensory Adaptation
It is widely known that the lyrics consist of the repetition of the word “Gorilla,” the placement of English words like “Satisfaction” and “Effectuation,” and a powerful rhyming scheme.
While these can be seen as prioritizing phonetic resonance and incantatory strength over semantic meaning, I believe this was by no means a simple or lazy choice. The approach of intentionally thinning out the meaning of words to give them a different kind of “power” through sound and repetition is a legitimate musical strategy—one also seen, for instance, in the musical world of Yosui Inoue.
However, if Yosui’s case is a direction that expands the listener’s interpretative space through a “mist of meaning,” the lyrics of this song move in a direction that overwhelms the listener with an incantatory intensity—what one might call the “pressure of meaning.” They can be distinguished as different manifestations of the same strategy.
Furthermore, it is noteworthy that a triple meter (3/4 time) is temporarily introduced during the “Gorilla” chants. This insertion of an irregular meter acts as a “foreign object” in a positive sense, making the lyrics stand out more vividly. At the same time, it seems to play a role in avoiding “sensory adaptation”—the phenomenon where repeated stimuli become dull over time—caused by the overall aggressive and homogeneous tone of the piece. It is not a simple staircase of uniform steps, but a structure with “athletic” obstacles placed throughout.
An Achievement Born of Being Driven into a Corner by Constraints
From a creator’s perspective, the composition of this song is unconventional. It looks as though it is being confined by a different dynamic just at the points where it could have expanded into various developments or flourished into broader imagery.
That “different dynamic” is the presence of the lyrics brought in by the lyricist and director, Yu Yamamoto. This is not the kind of music that comes together when a composer is told “do whatever you like.” Rather, I suspect that this spiral structure was born as a result of musical impulses being bottled up within the constraints of fixed words. This is supported by anecdotes regarding the composer’s confusion upon receiving the lyrics.
In a sense, this represents a rare value achieved by a composer who was driven into a corner. Listening through the full arrangement on the record version (Verse 1 — Interlude/Viola Solo — Verse 2), one can confirm that this seemingly erratic loop structure does not break down at all over the longer duration. Despite appearing to be a precarious balance, Masayuki Yamamoto’s immense skill allows it to stand as a cohesive piece of music.
Atop the Spiral Staircase
To verbalize my experience as a listener within this structure: it was a sense of bewilderment, like being overwhelmed by the power of a verbal incantation and climbing a spiral staircase without realizing it, only to suddenly find myself on the roof thinking, “Is it over already?” It was accompanied by a loneliness—a feeling of “the end of a field trip,” so to speak—where I felt I had to find my own way back down alone.
This was not a feeling of being pushed away, but a unique sensation that should be called a bewilderment accompanied by exhilaration.
Reflecting on this from a creator’s viewpoint leads to the conclusion that it “could only have been born because of constraints.” The essential nature of this song lies in the tension between the impulse for musical development and the external force of the lyrics, with that pressure crystallizing into a spiral structure.
The skill of Masayuki Yamamoto, who maintained a precarious balance while achieving a high level of perfection within the limitations of an anime theme song, and the lyrics of Yu Yamamoto, which gave incantatory strength to words like “Gorilla” and “rhyme”—the antagonism of these two forces created a unique listening experience that cannot be found elsewhere.
Born in the era of 1983, this song seems to be inscribed with a kind of inevitability that could not be replicated even if one tried to design it after the fact.
