New paths for a young pop star

Utada Hikaru doesn’t do cleavage. She doesn’t tend to flash acres of golden abs, as do divettes Britney and Jessica and Christina. And only rarely does Utada, Japan’s reigning pop princess since she was a wee 15, take her bare legs for a stroll.

“When I dress girlie in New York, I always feel like I look like a hooker just because I’m Asian,” says the tiny 21-year-old, sitting in the posh Four Seasons Hotel clad in jeans, ratty sneakers and a tan corduroy jacket pulled snug over a pink Minnie Mouse sweatshirt. “I look in the Village Voice, and there’s three pages devoted to ‘Asian Girls’ ads.”

The singer-songwriter-producer has sold more than 17 million albums in Japan in just five years without tarting herself up. Her 1999 debut, “First Love,” is the bestselling album in Japanese history. She’s affectionately known as “Hikki” on the Internet fan sites that thrill over her good-girl likes (literature, “The Three Amigos”) and tsk-tsk dislikes (partying, a dirty house). She has a clothing line, a calendar and a self-drawn cartoon pet named Chuichi that cat-fights with merchandising juggernaut Hello Kitty.

Utada’s English-language debut, “Exodus,” was released this month on the Island/Def Jam label. But that doesn’t mean Japan’s version of Hilary Duff is all happiness and light these days.

Unlike the go-girl music that helped make Utada the No. 1 target of the feverish Japanese paparazzi, her new sound can be chilly, lonely, sad -- an utterly inventive melange of techno bleeps and blips, intricate rhythms and a voice that resembles Madonna back when the Material Girl was trying to bring the ballads. The only times Utada sounds as if she’s having fun is on the silly first single, “Easy Breezy,” and on three collaborations with hip-hop superproducer Timbaland, the one-man hit machine who’s sent Missy Elliott and Justin Timberlake to the top of the charts.

The truth is, Utada -- who was born in New York City and, as the only child of musician parents, has spent most of her life whiplashing between Manhattan and Tokyo -- isn’t sure who she wants to be these days.

She dropped out of Columbia University after half a semester a couple of years ago because “it wasn’t as difficult as I was hoping it would be.” She’s also questioning whether she wants to remain a gossip-fodder pop star. The fame game, Utada has found out, can be a big metaphysical bummer.

“I’ve been forced to think about what I’m trying to be or what I’m supposed to be or what I am,” sighs the bilingual Utada. “People in the record company have a hard time categorizing me and pitching me to the radio, because they look at me, and obviously I’m this young girl. No matter what my music is like, I’m still competing with all the other young girls in the market ... Ashlee Simpson, Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears, Avril Lavigne, blah blah blah.”

Utada admits it’s all starting to make her a little sick.

“I just went to the doctor’s this morning to get a general checkup. After checking me out, the doctor asked, ‘Are you under a lot of stress?’ She didn’t even know what job I do,” Utada says. “I have had health problems with stress. I guess I keep it all inside.”

Although she has a close network of friends here and abroad -- and a husband, video director Kaz Kiriya, who’s been spending a lot of time in Los Angeles lately -- she prefers to be by herself. She credits her solitary nature -- and her rather grown-up way of processing life’s twisteroos -- to being an only child with very busy parents.

Her mother is Keiko Fuji, a traditional enka singer who sold millions of albums in the ‘70s. Her father, famed music producer Teruzane Skingg Utada, oversaw his wife’s career and now acts as his daughter’s manager.

“I grew up watching my mom performing,” Utada says. “And I was always fascinated how, before a show, up to the last minute, she’d be arguing with my father or crying about something or sick, but once she hit the stage, she’d be perfect.”

Utada, who lists Radiohead, Bjork and Nine Inch Nails as favorites, lightens up when asked about making “Exodus.” She has real affection for Timbaland, who provided an assortment of loops and beats to choose from. (“I was like a kid in a candy store,” she says.) She added lyrics and melodies.

Utada feared an English-language album would be perceived by Japanese worshipers as a sellout. “I was worried about that, but I really haven’t gotten that sort of reaction yet,” she says, adding that “Exodus” has already sold half a million copies in Japan.

For now, Utada will wait. And think. And think some more. “I think I’m going to go back to the university when I get sick of music,” she says. But almost in the same breath, she lets out a giggle and says, “I would really like to produce for Britney Spears.”

And for the first time today, Utada finally sounds like a 21-year-old pop star.