Knowing nothing about any CD of him and definitely don't wanna have it...
that "hakkeyoi" song is annoying enough, IMHO
Nevertheless, the 'Hakkeyoi' song may have been the foot wedged in the doorway. The original prohibition was, IIRC (and I usually do) intended to force all the rikishi and oyakata to depend on the Kyokai and their own koenkai for all their income, and not have very profitable sources of income and fame from outside work. In the case of Mihogaseki, father and son, both were respected artists, though the son (the present oyakata) was better-known than his father as a singer.
One of my most valued possessions (for the pleasure I get out of it every day as I see it on the wall, not for any monetary value it may have) is an early Lynn Matsuoka crayon sketch of Masuiyama II having his hair done. (The artist wasn't even Mrs Matsuoka in those days). I once showed it to a big Japanese fan and asked if he thought I might ask the Ozeki to sign it in the blank top corner -- and he immediately replied that the Ozeki was an artist in his own right so I couldn't possibly ask him to put his signature on the work of another artist -- however good it was. So I never asked. All the same, whenever I meet him as an oyakata, even today, I still get a warm nod and a smile -- and somewhere at the back of my mind there is still that vacant space on the drawing where I dreamed of getting an autograph...
While I am in a reminiscent mood, let me recall a much earlier day when his father was Mihogaseki oyakata and I was in the fairly early years of my side-career as a sumo guide. The paperwork had been meticulously done, on my instructions, by one of the junior staff in my office, and permission had been obtained for me (foreigner but guaranteed to know the ropes) to escort a small group of Southeast Asian journalists to watch keiko. Everything went perfectly. My group of promising young journalists on an invitation visit were seated on the front row, me right behind them, sitting in my best formal 'tea ceremony' posture. Their behaviour was perfect (in advance I may have given them a few simple instructions, such as "If you move an inch, or make the slightest noise, I'll use your guts for garters") when, dreadfully late, the door opened and Andy Adams, an American journalist of an earlier generation, famous largely for creating the only English-language magazine "Sumo World", barged in and helped himself to a seat, uninvited, down the side. The oyakata turned a dreadful look on me -- but I played genuinely innocent and
shrugged and mimed "Nothing to do with me" -- and returned my attention to my entirely docile flock.
That is all I recall of the previous master; in later years I was a regular visitor, but my entry was largely thanks to the two yobidashi -- then totally unimportant, now #2 and #3, but still friends.
Orion down memory lane