Limit and Retake
In dramas, anime, movies, commercials, and other works, a "tie-up" where the theme of the work is clearly defined gives a sense of collaboration with an external framework, compared to creating music from scratch.
In regular music production, there is invisible freedom where trial and error towards oneself is repeated in any direction. In contrast, with a tie-up, the mental processes to reach the destination are clearly divided into similar and different parts. Although there is a constraint of a 1.5-minute duration for broadcasting, in my case, I'm usually given simple orders and entrusted with the work without many restrictions. However, recently, I feel that the motifs I create freely are often used for tie-ups later on, making the boundaries seem almost nonexistent.
When it comes to anime, I read all the original manga, and if I join a project midway through a season, I watch all the episodes of the previous season before I start creating the music. Consequently, I spend an enormous amount of time preparing. Whether it's anime or drama, I consider it important to match the time spent by the fans of the work as much as possible. However, since I don't usually watch anime or read books, it takes me a lot of time to internalize the story to the point where it overlaps with my own consciousness.
With e-books, I capture the moments that catch my attention when I first view the work. This is because I want to preserve all the pages that initially felt out of place before I become accustomed to the work. It's crucial to do this at the beginning. Although the understanding of the work naturally deepens after multiple readings, the initial sense of discomfort with the outline of the work gradually fades. It's like how an unusual taste you noticed at first doesn't bother you as much after a while, or how someone might get used to my peculiar singing style (haven't they?). Not only the discomfort but also the good parts become familiar in the same way. Exaggerating a bit, it's like asking, "Why did I like it?" or "Why did I hate it?" Therefore, I want to incorporate both the initial impact and the depth that comes from a deep understanding into the music.
When I worked on the tie-up for the anime "Chainsaw Man," although I had already received approval for the demo, after finishing the final recording and mixing and submitting the track, the anime production team came back with feedback that "the demo was better" for a certain part.
Normally, it is almost unheard of for something that was approved in the demo stage to be rejected after recording. To prevent this, I always provide a version where the arrangement and timing are already aligned for confirmation beforehand.
The track "first death" was completed at an astonishing speed, surprising the production team, but the feedback came after I had submitted it and even after the submission deadline had passed. The label's representative supported me by saying, "We've received approval from the intermediary with the production team, so let's submit it as is." However, since I could understand the sentiment that "the first version was better," I requested to set up a meeting to directly discuss and understand their perspective.
When they said "the demo was better," it wasn't because the quality of the demo itself was actually better. It's not something that can be summed up in one word like "quality," but sometimes a roughly recorded guitar or a vocal take has an irreplaceable charm due to its relaxed nature. No matter how good the studio is where you re-record or how meticulously you fill the track with intricate phrases, you can't always surpass it. Sometimes, the sound of the demo mic or the programmed drums oddly defines the character of the song.
To use a somewhat obscure analogy, have you ever had the experience of liking a sample you tried on at an exhibition and placing an order, only to find that the actual product that arrives feels somehow different? I know it's not common to attend exhibitions frequently.
The samples shown at exhibitions are often made in different places from where the actual production is done, or designers might make further updates after the exhibition. Many order forms state that specifications are subject to change without notice, which likely serves to leave room for such adjustments.
The moment you first feel an attraction to something is incredibly vague yet unmistakable. That's why I am very sensitive to others' feelings of "I don't know why, but the initial impact isn't there anymore." I am always captivated by that initial impression while striving for the ideal final form. Even as a creator, I believe that the magic of what you first hear is not an illusion.
The phrase "the demo was better" might seem like a simple and easy comment, but it touches on something very fundamental. It's an emotion I most want to capture when making music.
In tie-up productions, which involve many stakeholders, I first create the best possible work for myself. Though rare, different people might freely express various opinions depending on the situation. Given my pride in delivering the best, if the reactions are lackluster, my enthusiasm might wane.
It's easy to fall into the mindset of "they just don't understand the quality of what I made," but I pause and reflect. I reconsider the reason I was needed for the project. I believe that I can fully dedicate myself to the work while maintaining my own musical identity. This isn't a negative thought of "compromising my own work to fit the project," but something entirely different.
Among the countless musicians out there, if I can't satisfy the people who were drawn to my work, it would just be background music without any affinity. Whether I compromise and turn the criticism into music or push myself to create something even better is up to me.
Of course, there is a definite line of what is acceptable, but if I can't move the person in front of me, the impact on the audience beyond them will be shallow. I recalled the advice given to me at a live house: "First, captivate the friends you invited."
In the end, the issue with "Chainsaw Man" was resolved smoothly after I spoke directly with the production team. The more intermediaries involved, the more exaggerated and vague the nuances can become. We're all aiming for the same goal, and direct conversation often reveals that the issue is minor. As live drums and bass were added, enhancing the compatibility with the work, the priority of a sound that wasn't in the demo but was less than a second long changes. Our brains process these sounds unconsciously, and as we listen, we make choices about what we hear. The order, size, and arrangement of sounds that hit the eardrum can change the impression completely, so even swapping instruments can alter the nuance. By adjusting the mix to capture the client's requests and settling on the final form, a sense of trust was also built, knowing they were listening so intently. This is something we realized because we were fully engaged with every track in the innovative project where the ending changes each time.
As long as time permits, aligning my highest ideals with those envisioned by the director and original creator is what it means to "create a work together." It's an obvious production style for me, showing sincerity to those who have loved my past works.
ーーー
Thanks for reading!
Please support the band members, you can purchase the book from:
Order CDs and goods from:
Comments