Japanese Vinyl Imports: A Collector's Guide to Getting Started


If you’ve been collecting vinyl for a while and you haven’t gone down the Japanese pressing rabbit hole yet, I have good news and bad news. Good news: you’re about to discover some of the best-sounding records ever made. Bad news: your wallet is about to take a hit, and your existing pressings of certain albums will never sound quite right to you again.

Japanese vinyl pressings — particularly those from the 1970s and 1980s — have a reputation among collectors that borders on mythical. And unlike most things that get hyped in record collecting circles, the reputation is largely deserved.

Why Japanese Pressings Sound Different

It starts with the vinyl compound. Japanese pressing plants, particularly JVC’s Yokohama facility and the Toshiba-EMI plant in Gotemba, used a higher grade of virgin vinyl than most Western plants. Less recycled material means fewer impurities, which translates to lower surface noise and better high-frequency reproduction.

Then there’s the mastering. Japanese engineers often created their own masters from the original tapes rather than using sub-masters or copy tapes. For some albums — particularly Western rock and jazz titles licensed for the Japanese market — the Japanese mastering engineer had access to the same source tapes but made different EQ decisions. Sometimes those decisions were better. The Japanese pressing of Steely Dan’s “Aja” is the classic example: the high end sparkles in a way the American pressing doesn’t quite match.

Quality control was also different. Japanese plants had tighter tolerances for pressing weight, centring, and surface defects. Records that would have passed QC at a Western plant got rejected in Japan. The result is pressings that track better, have less wow and flutter, and develop less surface noise over time with proper care.

The OBI Strip

You’ll hear collectors obsess about the OBI strip — that paper band that wraps around the left edge of Japanese vinyl releases. It’s a marketing tool, essentially: it carries the price, catalogue number, and promotional text in Japanese. On the record itself, it does nothing.

But for collectors, the OBI strip represents completeness. A Japanese pressing with its original OBI in good condition commands a significant premium over the same pressing without it. We’re talking 50-100% price difference for popular titles.

Is this rational? Honestly, not really. The OBI doesn’t affect the sound. But collecting has never been entirely rational, and the OBI strip has become a marker of provenance and condition. A record that still has its OBI has generally been well cared for.

My advice: if you’re buying for sound quality, don’t pay the OBI premium. If you’re buying to collect, factor it in.

What to Look For

Not all Japanese pressings are created equal. Here’s what matters:

First pressings vs. later reissues. Japanese labels frequently reissued popular titles, sometimes with different mastering. First pressings (identifiable by catalogue number and matrix/runout information) are generally the most sought-after. Discogs is your friend here — cross-reference catalogue numbers before buying.

The label matters. Different Japanese labels had different quality standards. Toshiba-EMI, CBS/Sony, Warner-Pioneer, and King Records pressings are consistently excellent. Budget labels are less reliable.

Jazz is the sweet spot. Japanese jazz pressings from the 1970s — both domestic artists and Western imports — are arguably the pinnacle of vinyl production. Blue Note titles pressed by Toshiba-EMI, and the incredible domestic jazz scene (Ryo Fukui, Masabumi Kikuchi, Hiroshi Suzuki) are genuinely transcendent on vinyl. If you’re a jazz fan, this is where you start.

City Pop. The explosion of interest in Japanese city pop over the past few years has driven prices up significantly. Tatsuro Yamashita’s “For You” has gone from a $30 record to a $200+ record in about three years. It’s still a brilliant pressing, but be aware you’re paying a hype premium on anything in this genre right now.

Where to Find Japanese Pressings in Australia

Record stores with import sections. Not every store stocks Japanese imports, but the ones that do tend to know their stuff. In Melbourne, Northside Records and Round and Round occasionally have Japanese pressings. Egg Records in Newtown, Sydney, has a dedicated Japan section that’s worth checking regularly.

Online from Japan. This is where the serious collectors shop. HMV Japan ships internationally and has a vast catalogue. Amazon Japan (amazon.co.jp) has a surprising vinyl selection, and most listings ship to Australia. For second-hand, Discogs sellers based in Japan are generally reliable but factor in $15-25 AUD shipping per record.

Australian Discogs sellers. Some Australian collectors specialise in Japanese imports. The shipping is domestic, which saves money and reduces transit damage risk. Set up Discogs wantlist alerts for specific titles.

Record fairs. Always check the Japanese section at record fairs. Sellers sometimes misprice Japanese pressings because they don’t recognise what they have. I picked up a mint Toshiba-EMI pressing of “Abbey Road” at the Melbourne Record Fair last year for $40 — a record that sells for $120+ online.

Condition and Grading

Japanese records from the 70s and 80s tend to be in better condition than their Western equivalents of the same age. Japanese collectors generally took better care of their records — storing them vertically, using inner sleeves, handling by edges only. A “VG+” Japanese record often looks and plays like a “NM” Western record.

That said, watch for water damage. Japanese housing tends to be more humidity-affected, and water staining on sleeves is common. It doesn’t affect the vinyl, but it impacts the overall package condition.

Starting Your Collection

If you’ve never bought a Japanese pressing, start with one album you already own in a Western pressing. Something you know inside out. Put the Japanese pressing on, close your eyes, and listen.

The difference won’t be dramatic on every title. On some, it’ll be subtle — a bit more air in the high end, slightly tighter bass. On others, it’ll make you question everything you thought you knew about how that album was supposed to sound.

That’s the moment you’ll understand what the fuss is about. And that’s the moment your hobby gets considerably more expensive. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.