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13th anniversary pamphlet interviews (2015)

Ruki

Interviewer: I’d like to explore how RUKI from 13 years ago and the RUKI of today have changed. Looking back now, how do you feel about yourself when the GazettE first formed?

RUKI: Looking back, I might not have had much of a clear vision at that time. I think I acted more impulsively back then than I do now. I was probably just charging forward without really knowing what was right or cool. Of course, I had my own idea of what "cool" was in my head, but when I actually did things, I often found myself thinking, "Whoa, this isn’t it." Back then, it was mostly just about wanting to be in a band. I didn’t have a set concept or a clear direction like I do now. Although I was approaching adulthood in terms of age, I was still very much a kid.

Interviewer: But, in reality, you don’t just become an adult overnight at a coming-of-age ceremony, right?

RUKI: Exactly, it doesn’t work like that. The coming-of-age ceremony is kind of like being forced into adulthood through a ritual. I attended mine, too—though it was only because my parents told me to (laughs). Back then, I had long, platinum blond hair. The ceremony was held in a banquet hall at a local hotel. A lot of my local friends were there, including some who had been rebels but were now going to college. Naturally, I stood out. Everyone was asking, "Are you still doing the band thing?" (laughs). And to top it off, it was the same day that my previous band had disbanded. So, I was in a pretty bad mood, feeling like I didn’t fit in with society and was still stuck doing this band thing.

Interviewer: In situations like that, you become more aware of how far removed you are from the average path in life, right?

RUKI: Exactly. Normally, I don’t think about those things. Now, it doesn’t bother me as much because I’m making a living (laughs). But back then, I had no money, my band had broken up, I had blond hair… It was quite a situation (laughs).

Interviewer: When starting the GazettE, you all mentioned that you intended it to be your last band. Were you serious about that at the time?

RUKI: We all said, ‘We’ll make this band last long.’ After all, we hadn’t managed to keep a single band together for more than a year. Even after we started playing at live houses, it was the same. The longest we lasted was about eight months.

Yes, we were serious about it. Back then, we’d dissolved several bands in a short time. When the band I was in before my coming-of-age ceremony broke up, people even laughed and said, ‘Again?’ Because of things like that, I decided the next band would be my last—no matter what happened.

Interviewer: That’s probably because, at the time, you didn’t have a clear idea of what you wanted to do, right?

RUKI: Yeah. Back then, unlike now, I felt like I wouldn’t survive unless I reflected the times more blatantly. If there was a type of band that was trending, all the bands with a similar style would also be popular. So, back then, the idea was to join that trend, and if you became the best within that framework, you’d make it big. There were a lot of bands that were eccentric and extreme, kind of like the trend back then. And when someone created a new movement, everyone would just shift to that new style.

Interviewer: What kind of direction were you aiming for at that time?

RUKI: Hmm... To put it simply, I just wanted to be in the most intense band around. I didn’t care much about melody or songs back then (laughs). As long as we were the most aggressive, that was enough. Everyone around us was aiming for that too, and our seniors had that same vibe. It was all about how wild or intense your band could be. So, if someone from the older generation did a crazy performance, I’d be thinking about how we could top it. We kept repeating that pattern.

Interviewer: In a way, you were trying to become something extreme. Despite the short-lived nature of your past bands and your hometown friends moving on to become working adults, was there ever a point where you considered quitting band activities?

RUKI: No, I never thought about quitting. I figured if I gave up music, I’d probably end up homeless (laughs). I mentioned that in interviews back then too. I couldn’t really imagine doing a proper job, and I had a strong feeling inside of me like, “I don’t want to live a normal life!”

Interviewer: You didn’t want a life where you wore a suit and went to the office every day?

RUKI: Yeah, I still feel that way today. It just doesn’t suit me. I absolutely hated the idea of living an ordinary life, and I was like, "That’s not who I am!" Looking back, I guess that’s pretty chūnibyō (middle-school syndrome) of me (laughs).

Interviewer: For example, did your parents let you live freely and follow your own path?

RUKI: No, not at all. Actually, I was disowned (laughs). I think it happened sometime after the coming-of-age ceremony. Simply put, I wasn’t coming home at all. I was always with the band members. The truth is I ended up cutting up the clothes my parents got for me for the coming-of-age ceremony and turning them into stage outfits. That was the trigger. They told me, "Get out!" and I was like, "Fine, I’ll leave" (laughs). So, because of that, I was in a situation where I couldn’t really go back.

Interviewer: So practically speaking, you didn’t even have a home to go back to, meaning you had no choice but to keep going with the band.

RUKI: Exactly. By that point, I was already in this band, but I thought, if I fail at this, I’m done for. I even wondered if I’d just die like this. That’s the kind of young person I was (laughs).

Interviewer: I’m glad you didn’t fail (laughs). But did you ever think of a backup plan, like what you’d do if the band didn’t work out?

RUKI: No, I didn’t think there was any way we could fail. I never had any doubts. For example, in the band I was in just before this one, we consistently had about 90 people coming to our shows, which was a pretty decent number at the time. Back then, if you could do a one-man show at Rokumeikan, you were seen as a monster band (laughs). But when we started the GazettE, we had 6 or 7 people in the audience. Our lowest number was 6. At that time, I was the one holding the band's phone, so I handled ticket reservations. I didn’t need to ask anyone—I knew exactly how many tickets were being sold, and that number just kept going down. But even then, I had this feeling of, "We’re not just this. We’re more than this!" I think that belief in our success came from some kind of confidence.

Interviewer: It’s like something out of a manga, like Yamikin Ushijima-kun, where young people say, "I’m more than this. The world just hasn’t realized how amazing I am yet." Did you feel the same way?

RUKI: No. Those kinds of people in manga say things like that without actually doing anything. In my case, I was doing things, but it just wasn’t working out. For example, I’d think I was performing a certain way, but when I checked the footage afterward, it didn’t look like that at all. There were tons of things that needed improvement. I had just switched from drums to vocals, so I started singing at karaoke-level without knowing anything about stage presence. So, I spent time studying, watching other people's performances, trying to absorb things, and experimenting. It took me way too long to really get those things down, so it made sense that we didn’t have much popularity back then (laughs). But even so, I felt like, if I could get my act together, we’d definitely become something incredible. There was always a part of me that believed in myself.

Interviewer: So, you knew what you wanted to do was right, but you just couldn’t quite execute it yet.

RUKI: Exactly. I didn’t have the knowledge to raise my level to where it needed to be. I’d never been a roadie for anyone, and I didn’t have any senior mentors to rely on. So, it was tough. But when I stood on stage at a live house, I believed I could become like LUNA SEA or Hide. I had that much confidence, but when I watched the live footage, it was completely different from what I had imagined. I was always thinking about how to close that gap between reality and my ideal.

Interviewer: So, you were constantly working on narrowing that gap.

RUKI: That’s right. Even now, there are still aspects of that. Even if I didn’t excel in a certain area, as long as I could compare myself to someone and think, "I’m better than this guy," that was good enough for me. No matter what others said, as long as I felt like I was winning internally, that was all that mattered. That went on for a long time, even after we started performing at larger venues. But then, when I met the people I admired, I realized, "Oh, I’m not the same as them." I’d think, "It’s pointless to chase after this person." I had been chasing an ideal for so long that my way of thinking was still like a kid’s. I realized that just following in someone’s footsteps wouldn’t let me surpass them, and I’d just end up becoming more like them. When I got the chance to meet the people I admired, like Kiyoharu or RYUICHI, I started to realize, "This isn’t what I’m looking for in terms of what’s cool." That’s when my mindset started to change drastically.

Interviewer: After all, even the people you admired, the ones who were your role models, were likely chasing after someone themselves at one point.

RUKI: Yeah, but back then, whenever someone pointed that out, I’d try to deny it. If someone said I was copying someone, I’d completely reject that. But now, I can accept that as part of my past. If someone says I resemble someone, I can fully agree with them now.

Interviewer: Originality isn’t always something you’re born with. Sometimes it starts with imitating someone, and through that process, you find your own path and eventually create something unique.

RUKI: Exactly. But I still feel like the people who invent something new are the ones who reach the top. It’s like that in any genre. The people who stand out are always the coolest. However I realized that instead of just mimicking those people, I had to come to the conclusion that "I am who I am."

Interviewer: In that sense, it might have been fortunate that you got the chance to meet the people you admired relatively early on, right?

RUKI: Yeah, I think so too. Meeting people is really important in that way.

Interviewer: From around the age of 20, during the next 10 to 15 years, people go through significant changes, even in a normal life. In a way, it’s a period where your future is largely shaped. Looking at it from that perspective, do you think the current RUKI, as a person outside of music, is different from the RUKI back then?

RUKI: I think I’ve changed. It’s like there were stages of growth... For example, when I first met RYUICHI, I thought it was cool to act aloof and edgy. Even the image I projected in photos—I thought that was fine. I believed being aloof and saying things you shouldn’t say was what being "rock" was all about. But when I met RYUICHI, I thought, "Wow, what a calm and open-hearted person!" It was this sense of ease and composure, I guess. The common thread among all the senior artists I met was their sense of ease. In contrast, the seniors who were closer to us in age acted really superior. The ones just one year older than us were so edgy. But the seniors who were way ahead of us had this air of calm, and it just made me sigh in awe (laughs).

Interviewer: So, did you suddenly become kinder to your juniors the day after realizing that?

RUKI: (Laughs) No, but it did make me start thinking about things differently. I think my words and how I spoke in interviews started to change too. Once I realized there are so many different ways of thinking in the world, I understood that, yes, expressing your own opinions boldly is important, but there’s a big difference between saying something just because it sounds cool and saying it after really thinking about it. When I look back at my old interview articles, I sometimes cringe at what I said. As someone who has reflected on my past, there are parts of my old self that I can’t forgive (laughs). But at the time, I thought that was the way to be, so I guess I was just doing what I thought was right.

Interviewer: So when you were acting edgy, did you also keep some distance from your fans and others, and in a way, look down on them a bit?

RUKI: Yeah, that’s right. But even then, our popularity was still rising, so it became hard to stop (laughs). Still, before it got out of hand, meeting people like RYUICHI and other seniors made me realize, "Oh, this isn’t the way to go." I realized I needed to stay humble. Of course, in terms of public image, it's okay to maintain that aloof, hard-to-approach vibe. But in reality, people who seem that way often have a completely different side to them behind the scenes. That was a big change for me. It made me think, “I wasn’t originally like this, was I?” It’s not like I’m playing a character called "RUKI" or anything, but... In the end, I wanted to be someone who exuded confidence, so I spoke confidently, even to the point where I’d sometimes say things that I later wanted to stop myself from saying (laughs). And sometimes, I’d even direct that attitude towards the fans.

Interviewer: There are probably fans who liked that version of RUKI, but realizing "this isn't the real me" must have made you feel more comfortable, right?

RUKI: Yeah. Actually, the second turning point came when I met Kiyoharu. It might sound strange, but I realized there are people who are purely rock, and then there are those who have a bit of a showbiz vibe. There’s a difference between a celebrity and a band member, and I never thought of myself as being on the showbiz side. Talking with Kiyoharu made me realize that. Kiyoharu is incredibly rock, right? Watching him, I started wanting to become the kind of person I envisioned back when I didn’t even know where the line between rock and showbiz was. In that sense, Hide was close to my ideal. I never got the chance to meet him, so he remained kind of like a dream for me, but the way he thought, his eccentricity, and his approach to various things were all really inspiring to me.

Interviewer: I see. It’s hard to imagine what RUKI will be doing 10 or 20 years from now, but some people can quit music without any regrets, while others are happy as long as they stay involved with music in some way. But in your case, I get the feeling that you’ll always stick with music and the band.

RUKI: Yeah, I think so. I have no desire to do solo work at all. I can only throw myself into the band. What I want to do is create music that I think is cool, and when the other members also think it’s cool, we can do it together. I think that’s the style I like. Plus, someone else can do what I can’t, and that’s one of the great things about being in a band. If I were doing everything on my own, even if I managed to create something cool and felt proud of it, that’s where it would end. So, even if, by some chance, this band were to break up... Actually, instead of thinking about that possibility, I’d rather focus on making sure the band doesn’t break up (laughs).

Interviewer: Definitely (laughs). In fact, there are quite a few cases where solo activities have triggered a band's breakup, and I think you've seen such examples in the past. Do you think that reality has held you back from pursuing solo work?

RUKI: Honestly, yes. I know how shocking it can be when that happens. Right now, what we as a band want and what our fans want are aligned, so things are good... but for me, I just want to keep going with this style. In that sense, I really admire BUCK-TICK. There's no other band that has stuck to their style for so long without giving off any sense of being forced to do it. They continue as BUCK-TICK naturally, not out of sheer stubbornness, but because it feels right for them. That's something I aspire to. On the other hand, what's not good are the bands that are completely transparent.

Interviewer: What do you mean by "transparent"?

RUKI: For example... and I don’t mean to speak badly, but bands where you can easily imagine them declining. I’m not talking about specific seniors, so don’t misunderstand me (laughs). But you often see bands that sacrifice something really important because they’re too focused on immediate gains or rewards. For me, those kinds of bands feel like they lack a solid foundation. When I look at those bands, even if they're in the same scene, I feel like we're something different. We were never focused on just the short-term. We were always aiming higher, and I always had a strong desire to surpass our seniors. Going forward, we want to keep challenging ourselves and expanding, and we want to continue being a band that’s “happening” (laughs). If we can do that, then no matter where the current trends are going, I think we’ll be able to create something uniquely ours and remain the most interesting.

Interviewer: For instance, at your current age, I’m sure there are no physical limitations on what you want to do musically...

RUKI: No, not at all, not yet.

Interviewer: But do you ever worry about how things will change as you get older?

RUKI: No, I don’t. Honestly, I’ve never thought about it. However, there was a senior musician who once told me, "As you age, it might be better to shift your music in a direction that fits." When I heard that, I thought, "I’m definitely different from this person!" (laughs). To me, that way of thinking just isn’t rock. Nowadays, it feels like rock has become more like an athlete's mindset. You train, do vocal exercises, work out your body, and then perform live. It’s almost like that kind of routine is considered cool.

Interviewer: It feels like that kind of strictness or discipline has become a sort of barometer, right?

RUKI: Exactly. But that’s not what I’m after. What I find stoic is more like, "What’s this guy thinking? I can’t figure him out." It's about how deeply you can pursue the darker aspects. For me, being stoic means constantly having your antenna tuned to those things. Of course, taking care of your body is important, but that’s something you can just do quietly, without making a big deal out of it (laughs).

Interviewer: True (laughs). Now that I think about it, no one in this band seems to be the type to go around saying, "Look how hard I’m working."

RUKI: Yeah. I just don't like that kind of sports-club vibe. For example, if MORRIE started talking about his workout routine in an interview, wouldn’t that feel a bit off? Like, "Sorry, could you just stick to talking about the dark stuff?" (laughs). Not that I’d ever say that to him, of course (laughs). So yeah, it's fine if someone wants to work out. It’s good for your health, and there’s nothing wrong with it. But still…

Interviewer: So if your bandmates started hitting the gym regularly, you wouldn’t try to stop them?

RUKI: No, I wouldn’t stop them. I’d probably just think, "Wow, that’s impressive. They’re really working hard." Ultimately, it's all about mindset. Especially for a vocalist. You don’t need to show off that you’re working out or tell people about it. Plus, there's this thought of, "Can someone so healthy really convey a 'negative' song?" (laughs).

Interviewer: But you're not saying something extreme like, "I never take care of my throat, and I go on stage wrecked because that’s rock," right?

RUKI: Exactly. At the end of the day, no one teaches you how to shout properly. But you can’t just hold back on shouting because you’re afraid of damaging your throat. That kind of thinking applies to everything, I believe. That's the essence of putting your life on the line for this. Of course, we all take precautions, care for ourselves, and train, but we don’t feel the need to talk about it.

Interviewer: So secretly, are you doing any muscle training yourself?

RUKI: No, I'm not (laughs). I might do a few sit-ups here and there. But you know how people who are trying to build muscle always seem to show it off too much? I’d rather they just do it quietly. If I can look at them and think, "Oh, they’ve really put in the work," that’s fine. But I don’t want to be thinking, "Oh no, they’ve gone too far in that direction!" (laughs). But, well, it’s all about training in a way that fits your style. But yeah, in our case, the main movements on stage are things like headbanging (laughs).

Interviewer: Then maybe you should focus on strengthening just your neck (laughs).

RUKI: Honestly, when I go to the chiropractor, they always ask, “Why is your neck so muscular?” (laughs). It seems like only my neck has developed in an abnormal way. But when I see older musicians still going strong, I feel like we can't afford to stop either.

Interviewer: This conversation has taken a bit of a turn (laughs), but in any case, being in a band has its time limits. Eventually, it has to end. Have you thought about what comes after that?

RUKI: I think it’s fine to do whatever you want. Whether that’s continuing as a vocalist or composing music, both are options. But I don’t want to work behind the scenes. When I imagine myself in my 50s or 60s, I do wonder, “What would still look cool for me to be doing?” But I can’t picture myself behind the scenes. I definitely want to stay out front. Nowadays, there are people in their 50s who are still active in the music scene, so I think it’s really up to me.

Interviewer: Do you ever meet up or talk with old friends from outside the music industry, like childhood or local friends?

RUKI: Hardly ever. But I’ve heard from others that they still talk about me, like, “He’s still in a band, huh?” They hear things like, “I guess he’s performing at big venues,” stuff like that. Among people my age, some are already very grown-up, with a bit of gray hair starting to show.

Interviewer: Some have lots of kids, while others have been divorced more than once.

RUKI: Yeah, probably (laughs). But honestly, I don’t envy any of them. I still don’t feel any longing for a “normal” life. Going to an office at a set time every day, working late even if there’s no overtime pay... I do think that’s amazing and respect people who can do it. But it’s not for me. I prefer creating things. I’d rather shape my own ideas than work under someone else. So, in that sense, maybe I still don’t quite fit into society (laughs). I’m not chasing stability yet, and though there’s no guarantee for the future, I’m also not getting distracted by short-term concerns. In that way, I don’t feel like I want to become a “normal adult” at this point. It reassures me that I didn’t make the wrong choice.

Uruha

Interviewer: I have the impression that the GazettE tends to hold anniversary live shows at significant milestones. What are your thoughts on this, Uruha?

Uruha: Hmm, I’m not really sure. For example, during our 10th anniversary, none of the members really intended to make a big deal out of it. If anything, we just wanted to handle it smoothly, and that’s how we approached the 10th-anniversary show. But now, three years have passed, and with the 11th and 12th anniversaries being somewhat part of the tours, and last year being entirely dedicated to our fan club tour, this year’s 13th anniversary feels like we want to showcase the culmination of what we did last year.

Interviewer: So this year's Budokan show feels like the culmination of last year’s work?

Uruha: It’s not exactly the tour finale, but emotionally it’s connected to last year. We’re not really the kind of band that celebrates anniversaries all that much, but this 13th-anniversary show is definitely grounded in everything we did last year.

Interviewer: Last year’s activities were pretty extreme for a typical band, don’t you think?

Uruha: Yes, that’s true (laughs).

Interviewer: I remember at the beginning of last year, I received a short email from the label, and it said, “There are no releases scheduled this year. That’s all.” (laughs) It was the first time the band focused solely on live performances without releasing any music, right?

Uruha: Yes, exactly. But the decision to not release anything came after we had been putting out albums almost every year. And although we don’t like to admit it, we had reached a point where we felt a bit worn down.

Interviewer: Worn down within the band?

Uruha: Ideally, we want to always have ideas flowing, things we want to do. But, even though we were still creating songs, we found ourselves moving on to the next thing before fully digesting the previous work. That cycle kept repeating. So we began to feel a strong desire to take more time to fully absorb what we wanted to express. That’s when we decided to take a break from releases for a year. After we released the last album, when we were thinking about what to do the next year, we questioned whether we could keep up with the usual cycle of releasing an album every year.

Interviewer: The routine of releasing an album followed by a tour had become the norm?

Uruha: That’s part of it, yes. And after releasing an album and touring once, it’s usually only by the tour finale that the songs really settle within us. In other words, we had been feeling for quite a while that we wanted more time to fully engage with our music.

Interviewer: So it’s not a new feeling.

Uruha: Yes. And because we were stuck in that cycle, we hadn’t been able to properly dedicate time to our fan club. So, we decided to stop releasing anything for a year and focus solely on the fan club tour. Plus, we thought a standing tour, where we could reflect on our past, would be a good idea. We felt that through that process, we’d be able to rediscover what we truly wanted to do moving forward. It was an important year for us. Of course, it’s not something many bands are allowed to do. There's a lot of risk involved.

Interviewer: That’s true. From the outside, it might have looked like you were on a hiatus. Were you worried that people might forget about the band or that you’d lose relevance?

Uruha: No, the bigger concern for us was continuing on that same cycle. I thought the real risk was the band wearing itself down, losing something vital. But the only people who can truly understand those concerns are the members themselves. The management or the record label would naturally wonder why we weren’t releasing anything. But only the members can grasp the risk of the band burning out.

Interviewer: I see. After taking that year off, did you find yourselves comparing the band now to how you were in the past? Did you notice any differences?

Uruha: Yeah... compared to when we first started, we’ve definitely developed different methods and ways of thinking about our music. Back then, we’d often hit roadblocks and struggle to figure out how to proceed with songs. We were creating everything purely based on instinct. But now, we’ve learned different approaches, bit by bit, over time.

Interviewer: How did you approach songwriting back then? Did you jam in the studio to create songs?

Uruha: No, we’d start by using equipment to program basic sounds. That’s how we worked. Of course, the quality of the equipment back then was nowhere near what it is today—it was pretty rough. But we’d program the sounds, listen to them together, and go from there.

Interviewer: So even back then, you didn’t go into the studio for pre-production?

Uruha: Yeah, we didn’t use the studio for pre-production. So, on the actual recording day, we’d be hearing the song for the first time in the studio, and then it was like, "Okay, so what do we do now?" We’d figure it out on the spot, going with the flow.

Interviewer: That method was probably pretty unusual at the time, wasn’t it?

Uruha: Yeah, it was. We’ve never used the traditional method of jamming in the studio to create songs. Of course, we’d go to the studio for practice, but not to write songs. Back then, we couldn’t even afford studio fees, and we didn’t have the skills to jam and create on the spot.

Interviewer: So the typical experience of starting a band with that rush of “we’re amazing!” energy from playing together in a studio wasn’t something this band experienced?

Uruha: No, I’d already gone through that phase during high school. After that, we were trying to form a band that we really wanted, but it was tough to make it work as we envisioned. At that time, just being able to form a band and play together was an achievement. But even if we managed to form one, there would be no audience at our shows, or members would leave quickly, so it wouldn’t last. We were barely managing to keep the band going. Figuring out what kind of songs to make and how to create them came after that. It took us a long time to even reach that point.

Interviewer: And then you finally formed the GazettE.

Uruha: That's right. Initially, it was just me, Reita, and Ruki looking for other members, and that’s how we found Aoi. We had a different drummer back then, so the GazettE started with those five members. Our main goal at the time was simply to make a living off the band.

Interviewer: Did you have bigger dreams, like becoming a rock star or, in your case, maybe a guitar hero?

Uruha: The reason I started playing guitar in the first place was because of LUNA SEA. I wanted to be in a band like them and stand on the Tokyo Dome stage. But as we continued with the band, we became more aware of reality, and the first goal shifted to just being able to survive off of our music. We just wanted to make it to the starting line.

Interviewer: You and Reita have been childhood friends, and I think that connection forms a fundamental part of the GazettE. The band didn’t just start from a musical connection, but from a deeper relationship.

Uruha: Yeah, that’s right. It wasn’t just about the music—it was more about the people. The other members didn’t join as close friends, but still, the human connection was a big part of the band.

Interviewer: Even if a band starts out with members as friends, over time, it can become difficult to maintain that friendship. Do you feel that way?

Uruha: Yes, that definitely happens.

Interviewer: Have you ever found the changes in your relationships with the members difficult or painful?

Uruha: Of course... I think everyone experiences that at some point. It might happen at different times for each person, but it’s something that comes around regularly.

Interviewer: How do you handle it when those feelings arise?

Uruha: For me... when I feel stress or frustration toward a member, I try to shift my perspective and not take everything they say too personally. That way, I can avoid letting the frustration build up.

Interviewer: So, you try not to take things said to you at face value?

Uruha: Exactly. If you take everything head-on, you’ll just end up getting angry. Instead, I try to think, “Why did they say that?” or “What can I do so they won’t say that again?” Then I look for ways to improve myself. But at first, it was really hard to change my thinking like that. There were times when I’d get so frustrated, I’d think, “I’m done with this” or “I don’t want to talk to this person anymore.” I think that happens to everyone in a band. But if you keep thinking that way, you’ll eventually stop talking to each other altogether, if you just keep that up, the band really will end. Both the band and the people in it will fall apart.

Interviewer: So that’s why you decided to change your mindset?

Uruha: Yeah. In the past, even if I was frustrated with the members, we were always stuck together—like when we traveled in the equipment van. So even if you didn’t want to, you had to deal with it, which actually helped resolve things. You had to talk to each other eventually, because there was no avoiding it. But once we joined a management company and started moving separately or traveling separately, we saw each other less. That made it easy to avoid conversations when things were tense, which, I think, is how bands start to fall apart.

Interviewer: By the way, are you the type who doesn’t say what you’re thinking?

Uruha: Yeah, I tend to hold things in. I’m the kind of person who doesn’t express emotions on the spot. It might be easier to just say what’s on my mind sometimes, but I’d rather take a step back and think about it before saying something I can’t take back.

Interviewer: So, you bottle up your frustrations?

Uruha: I do. But I think people who speak out immediately might regret it later too. For me, I’m the type who tries not to bother others as much as possible.

Interviewer: So, that’s how you’ve always been, even before joining this band?

Uruha: Yeah, I guess you could say I’m not exactly the aggressive type (laughs).

Interviewer: But on stage, you come across as pretty intense, don’t you? (laughs)

Uruha: Yeah, it's strange... When I’m on stage, I can bring out that side of me, and I actually enjoy it. Since I’m not like that off stage, it’s fun to do something so different up there. When the performance is well-planned and the atmosphere is carefully crafted, it’s easier for me to bring out that side of myself.

Interviewer: That’s interesting. Were you aware of this side of yourself when you started the band?

Uruha: No, not at all.

Interviewer: More like, "I want to be like SUGIZO!"?

Uruha: Exactly (laughs). I definitely had this idea of how I wanted to be, but people always said I was quiet. I didn’t talk much. Honestly, I never thought I’d end up in a band.

Interviewer: And now, here you are on stage, in makeup (laughs).

Uruha: (laughs) Yeah. I’ve never been the type to be loud or attention-seeking. I used to play soccer, but I always hated being watched. So it still feels strange to me.

Interviewer: And now, you’ve been in this career, being watched by people for over 10 years (laughs).

Uruha: I know. Even now, I sometimes think, "Yeah, I’m still not good at this." I love playing guitar, so I can enjoy being in front of people, but if it’s something like radio or TV without any music involved, I immediately think, "Yeah, I’m not good at this."

Interviewer: Even now, you’re still uncomfortable?

Uruha: It’s not so much that I’m uncomfortable, but I don’t really enjoy it. If I could find something enjoyable in it, I think I’d be fine, but I just don’t like it very much. Because of that, I get more exhausted than necessary, and I feel tense. It’s like... I’m just a passive person (laughs).

Interviewer: So how do you feel about a passive person like yourself standing on stage at Tokyo Dome?

Uruha: It really makes me think that the only reason I’m able to perform on a stage like that is because of the band, the GazettE. When I'm doing band activities, I don't feel like I'm doing something I'm bad at. It's more like I get so caught up in how fun it is that I forget about my discomfort. I think that's why I’m able to keep doing this. If I lost that, then I think I'd lose the reason for being in a band.

Interviewer: So, despite your discomfort, do you think this band has helped you overcome those insecurities?

Uruha: ...If anything, it’s the opposite.

Interviewer: The opposite? What do you mean?

Uruha: I feel like back in the day, I could do things without even thinking about them. Even during TV or radio recordings, I wasn’t fazed at all—or rather, I didn’t really feel anything. But as the band got bigger—especially after we played Tokyo Dome—I started feeling a lot of stress from it.

Interviewer: That’s a pretty recent thing, isn't it? (laughs)

Uruha: (laughs) Yeah, right? There was even a period where I became mentally unstable, and I couldn’t figure out why. I’d think, "Why am I so nervous?" Even for TV recordings that I used to do with no problem, I’d get extremely anxious.

Interviewer: Do you know what caused it?

Uruha: I don’t know, but I think I was in a really unstable place. Looking back now, it might have been because I was bottling up a lot of things. I still don’t fully understand my own mental mechanisms (laughs).

Interviewer: Do you think it’s because of all the things you’ve been holding in without expressing?

Uruha: Maybe. It might have taken a toll on me mentally, even though I wasn’t aware of it. I was always focused on how to fix any problems with the band. I was constantly thinking, "How can I make the band better?" And I guess without realizing it, I was suppressing myself too much. I didn’t know how to reset or release those feelings.

Interviewer: What things you think you were most anxious about during that period?

Uruha: I’m not sure...

Interviewer: Was it related to your role in the band, like questioning your own purpose?

Uruha: I still think about my purpose, even now. After Tokyo Dome, I was thinking a lot about my value. The band was growing, the fans were growing, and so were the people around us, but I started wondering, "Am I really doing what I want to do?" And, "What do the fans appreciate about me?" Once I started questioning those things, I felt completely lost. I even questioned whether what I was doing was truly what I wanted to do, and I started thinking about why I even exist. I still sometimes think about that.

Interviewer: It sounds like you were trapped in a state where you couldn’t find any answers.

Uruha: Yeah, there’s no exit. And yet, when I’d go drinking with the other members, we’d always end up having those kinds of conversations. I often think about it before going to bed.

Interviewer: Isn't that exhausting? You’re supposed to be doing this because it’s fun, but then you end up wondering why you have to go through such difficult emotions.

Uruha: It is. Of course, being in a band isn’t always fun. There are plenty of times when it’s not fun at all, and when that happens, trying to figure out how to make it enjoyable gets really complicated.

Interviewer: I can imagine that kind of mental strain could really wear someone down...

Uruha: That's true. In a way, quitting or breaking up the band could be seen as a kind of self-defense, a way of protecting yourself by escaping. I think there's that side to it.

Interviewer: So, why do you think you've been able to keep going without quitting?

Uruha: It's because the band is everything to me; it's my whole life. That's why I don’t run away... or rather, I can't. The idea of quitting doesn't even exist for me. But that also makes it tough.

Interviewer: When you first started the band, you probably didn't imagine that being in a band could be this tough, right?

Uruha: Yeah, at the beginning, I never thought about things like that, not even a little bit. Especially when we first played at Budokan... back then, I was thinking, "How far can we go?" At that time, I just wanted to see the limits of what we could achieve.

Interviewer: That's probably something only a band that made it to the Tokyo Dome could think about.

Uruha: Looking back, I think I was pretty naive then. I was measuring the band's potential only by the size of the venues we could fill. It just shows how little experience we had at the time. Of course, venue capacity is important, but I think we were too fixated on it. So, while making it to the Tokyo Dome was great, I realized afterward that I hadn’t really gained much from it. Sure, having the experience of playing there is amazing, and I can still remember the feeling from back then, but when I try to analyze what it really meant or what it achieved, it’s hard to put into words, even now.

Interviewer: So, you expected that once you reached the Dome, there would be something more beyond it.

Uruha: Yeah... I think that’s probably true.

Interviewer: Maybe you thought you’d change as a person—like you'd overcome your tendency to overthink or suppress your emotions. That your life itself might change.

Uruha: I think I definitely had those thoughts. Like, "Once I play at the Tokyo Dome, my life will change," or "I’ll live this glorious life." But... in reality, nothing changed at all. There wasn’t any big shift within myself either.

Interviewer: Instead, you realized how heavy the burdens you were carrying really were.

Uruha: Exactly. I think I had just been charging ahead, too focused on reaching the Dome. Now, I almost feel like I want to do it again—this time, step by step, steadily moving forward. I want to really think through each show, feel everything properly, and answer each question within myself as we progress toward the Tokyo Dome again. If I could do that, maybe I’d feel like I’ve changed. Maybe the band would see something different as well. So... I really want to do it again.

Interviewer: I see... Can I share something I’ve been thinking while listening to you?

Uruha: Sure, go ahead.

Interviewer: I understand your desire to take things steadily and to approach each step thoughtfully. But don’t you think the reason the GazettE has continued is because you’ve always charged ahead recklessly, relying on momentum and passion?

Uruha: Yeah... that’s true.

Interviewer: If you had stopped to think and search for answers after each step, the band might have lost momentum and ended. Isn’t that just the kind of band you are?

Uruha: Yeah... yeah... you're right. Even though I’m saying this now, I know our values and driving force were really about momentum. But... I guess I've kind of forgotten that at some point. Maybe I’ve become more cautious. The fact that we played venues like Budokan and Makuhari Messe, and even made it to the Tokyo Dome, was probably just pure “guts”... It sounds kind of silly to say it that way, though (laughs).

Interviewer: No, but it's true, isn’t it? (laughs)

Uruha: Yeah.

Interviewer: In other words, it was that intensity of passion. You just threw away hesitation and doubt and kept running forward.

Uruha: Right. So now, even though I say I want to move forward steadily, I realize that I really can't. Momentum is really important—I'm realizing that now.

Interviewer: You’ve always been the type to think deeply and worry about a lot of things.

Uruha: Yeah, that’s true.

Interviewer: And, to be more specific, you’re probably not that fond of yourself. You tend to focus on the parts of yourself you don’t like.

Uruha: I’m definitely a bit negative.

Interviewer: But I think the band is a place that makes you forget all of that. It’s like the band validates you as you are.

Uruha: That’s exactly it.

Interviewer: I think it’s because the band gives you things that your usual self doesn’t have—like momentum and determination. It’s what keeps you going when you would normally stop to think too much.

Uruha: Yeah... When I'm on stage, it really feels that way. Even though I try to play everything carefully and precisely, once I’m having fun, I just get caught up in the moment, and I end up running to the front of the stage, and my playing suffers because of it. I know that’s not ideal, and that I should keep my emotions in check and play calmly. But... I think what’s been supporting me all this time on stage has been the band’s momentum. I realize that now.

Interviewer: After the Dome, you said you had a lot on your mind. That’s probably because you’d been running on pure momentum with the band up until then.

Uruha: And... I think I started to misunderstand things once we saw the Dome on the horizon. I started thinking, "We need to sell more," or, "We need more attention." Up until then, we’d made it that far on pure momentum, but as soon as we saw the Dome coming, we started playing it safe. But in the end, playing it safe wasn’t really in line with what the GazettE was all about. I think that realization, and our own naivety, piled up and affected us.

Interviewer: That reaction to the Dome experience was reflected in the song “VORTEX,” right?

Uruha: Yeah, exactly. The idea of “we’re all about momentum” is what “VORTEX” expresses. I think the GazettE is the kind of band that has to push through crucial moments with momentum. If that doesn’t work, then we just have to give it up. That’s the mentality we should have taken to the Dome. But I didn’t. People around me were also pushing for playing it safe, and I think I was angry at myself for going along with that.

Interviewer: When you think about it, maybe in a way, the Tokyo Dome was a detour for the band.

Uruha: Yeah, you’re right. If we hadn’t gone through that experience with the Dome, “VORTEX” might never have been written and maybe albums like TOXIC and DIVISION wouldn’t have happened either.

Interviewer: That’s true. But from there, the band sought to rediscover its true essence, which led to the album BEAUTIFUL DEFORMITY.

Uruha: That's right.

Interviewer: In that album, even more than TOXIC or DIVISION, Ruki was insistent on the idea of the whole band coming together. He really focused on creating songs as a group, right?

Uruha: Yeah, it was about wanting to unify the ideas of all five members. At this point, we finally decided to do it (laughs). We created that, and then last year, we were like, “What should we do next?”

Interviewer: Looking back at that album and last year's activities, do you feel that they were necessary for the band?

Uruha: Yeah, they were necessary... It felt like we wanted to return to our roots. That album wasn’t really about a concept or the band’s worldview. It was about expressing our honest selves. It was about showing who we are. It ended up being this strange fusion of five completely different egos, forming something unique. It wasn’t about artistry or a unified worldview—just our raw selves being put into the music.

Interviewer: Were you able to express your true self in that?

Uruha: I did. I wasn’t concerned about the album’s flow at all. I just expressed the feelings that came out of me at that moment. Also, it was the first time we tried including songs from everyone in the band, which was really fun. That unevenness was exciting, and there was a new joy in being able to work on everyone’s songs during pre-production.

Interviewer: What made working with everyone so enjoyable?

Uruha: When the person directing changes, the song itself changes completely. For example, if we only had Ruki’s songs, Ruki would be directing the whole time, and the worldview of the album would be set by him. That would limit our freedom to arrange the songs. But when everyone brings in their own songs, you have five different directors, each with their own approach, and that changes how we approach the music. The whole production process was really fun.

Interviewer: Didn’t that cause any stress among the members?

Uruha: No, not at all. It was just fun. Even when we clashed, it was fun in a way.

Interviewer: Clashing is fun? Can you explain that?

Uruha: It’s about the phrases, you know? When someone says, "I don't want it like this," and the other says, "But I want it this way," the exchange itself is fun.

Interviewer: I’m not sure I understand why that kind of back-and-forth is enjoyable (laughs).

Uruha: No, it really is fun (laughs). It gives us the chance to think of better ideas, and just the act of communicating through music with the other members is enjoyable. Of course, there are times when I get frustrated with the other members. But now, I’ve come to enjoy even that.

Interviewer: That’s a big change.

Uruha: Yeah. In the past, I would get extremely frustrated when things didn’t go my way. But now it’s the opposite. Being challenged makes me think of new approaches. It’s become fun to test myself.

Interviewer: That’s an incredibly positive mindset.

Uruha: Now that you mention it... I realize that as I’m talking (laughs). In the past, I would get frustrated over things like that. But staying frustrated never led to anything good. Over time, by changing my mindset, I’ve come to think the way I do now. I try to enjoy everything.

Interviewer: I’ve always thought that you tended to view things negatively, or at least had a more pessimistic outlook.

Uruha: Ah... like overthinking things?

Interviewer: Yeah, that’s part of it. You also seemed to have a lot of anxiety compared to others. But as the band has continued through various challenges, while you may have struggled with ups and downs, you’ve gradually developed a more positive outlook, haven’t you?

Uruha: I guess so. Back then, I didn’t have a way of dealing with things, so all I could do was get frustrated. Now, I think I’ve gained knowledge and methods to handle situations, which has freed me from that frustration. So, although I’m still fundamentally negative (laughs), I think that hasn’t changed.

Interviewer: But now, you’ve learned how to live with that part of yourself, haven’t you?

Uruha: Exactly. I also think that this side of me comes from my love for the band. Probably because I care so deeply about the band, I tend to focus on its risks. I want to eliminate any potential risk to the band, which causes me to focus on the negatives. I’ve developed this habit of interpreting things negatively, but I think that stems from my love for the band.

Interviewer: I see.

Uruha: Because I love the band, I want to be sensitive to risks.

Interviewer: From an outsider's perspective, last year seemed to be a particularly high-risk year for you guys (laughs).

Uruha: (laughs) But for us, the benefits outweighed the risks. The real risk is losing the joy in the band. So, not releasing anything for a year... that’s not a big risk at all. Though, of course, we’re sorry to everyone around us for that!

Interviewer: I get it. Being able to say that so confidently comes from the unique position of a band that’s made it all the way to playing at the Dome.

Uruha: Yeah, and I think it’s because we have unwavering faith in ourselves—well, in the band. Our confidence in the band is almost abnormal. I guess our love for the band runs deep. We believe in our decisions, so we can move forward without hesitation.

Interviewer: It’s clear that the band is in a really good place right now. It seems like you’re not just doing well on the surface, but you’re genuinely enjoying things internally.

Uruha: Yeah, after 13 years, I finally think, “Wow, being in a band is actually fun.”

Interviewer: Of course, there’s the Budokan, but I’m really excited to see where the GazettE goes from here.

Uruha: I feel the same. I’m looking forward to releasing the next album and going on tour. I think I’ll be able to enjoy it all from the bottom of my heart. I’m really excited because I think the next album will allow us to fully express the core of what we are—the momentum and aggression we’ve always had. I can’t wait for it. Honestly, my mind is already focused on that (laughs).

Aoi

Interviewer: First of all, since this marks the 13th anniversary of the band's formation, let’s start from there. What does an anniversary live show mean to you, Aoi?

Aoi: Well... I feel like it’s a chance to do things we normally can't during a regular tour, or perhaps I want to approach it more casually. Rather than feeling like, “Let’s celebrate because it’s an anniversary,” it’s more like a day where we can try new things and take on challenges we can’t typically do.

Interviewer: So, you don’t particularly feel sentimental about the anniversary?

Aoi: Hmm… Saying that might give the wrong impression (laughs), but I’d say it’s more about the excitement of being able to perform a different kind of live show. And by doing that, we can often gain insights into what’s next or what lies ahead.

Interviewer: So, it’s more about looking forward than looking back at the past?

Aoi: That’s right. I prefer focusing on the present or what’s coming next.

Interviewer: Is that how you approach things in general?

Aoi: Yeah.

Interviewer: Well, that kind of makes this interview difficult (laughs).

Aoi: (laughs)

Interviewer: Can you tell us what you were like when the band first formed?

Aoi: When the band first formed? Well... I remember thinking, “I want this to be my last band.” It felt different from all the bands I had been a part of before.

Interviewer: How was it different?

Aoi: When we formed, there were already demo tracks, and they sounded completely different from the other bands I had been in. The melodies were very catchy and simply easy to listen to. With visual kei bands or indie bands in general, a lot of the music can be harder to get into, right?

Interviewer: Right, like it's either very core, underground, or sometimes bands try so hard to be original that the music becomes overly complicated.

Aoi: Exactly. And because I wasn’t that knowledgeable about music, I couldn’t really connect with those kinds of sounds. But the GazettE had demos that I could understand right from the start. That made me think, “I’d love to play guitar in this band.”

Interviewer: So you felt like you could express yourself as a guitarist in this band?

Aoi: Hmm, not really like that. I didn’t have the typical guitarist’s desire to prove how good I was or anything like that. To be honest, I’ve never been the type to think, “I’m so skilled.” Actually, I’m not that great at playing guitar (laughs).

Interviewer: (laughs)

Aoi: Since I’m not great at playing everything, I think that’s why I prefer catchy and easy-to-understand songs over more complex ones. Maybe that’s where I differ from other guitarists.

Interviewer: That could be true. Generally speaking, when a band first forms, there’s often a tendency to assert their originality through the complexity or technical aspects of their music.

Aoi: Yeah, that’s probably true.

Interviewer: But the GazettE was different from the start, and it sounds like that difference really clicked with you.

Aoi: I think so. Back then, I wasn’t overthinking things. I wasn’t too focused on asserting myself or anything like that. I didn’t really have a strong desire to be “recognized” for what I was doing. I’m sure there was a part of me that wanted that, but when I look at someone like RUKI, I realize how different I am.

Interviewer: What do you mean by “different”?

Aoi: RUKI is so talented, and he’s really dedicated to studying music and other things. But for me, I find it difficult to go that far. I can’t do what he does. That’s why I see him as a true artist. I admire that about him, but when I compare myself to him, I feel like I’m not quite there.. I’m not someone who can amaze people, you know? It might not be the right thing to say as someone who stands on stage, but that’s how I feel.

Interviewer: Did you feel that way from the start of the band?

Aoi: No, back then I just wanted to play guitar. I wasn’t really thinking about much. I wasn’t writing many songs like I do now, either. I was carefree, maybe even irresponsible. I mean, back then, when everyone was working on songs, I’d be off at my part-time job (laughs). I’d say, “I’ve got work.” So, I didn’t have a burning desire to express something, but at the same time, I didn’t want to not express anything either.

Interviewer: Sounds like a complicated personality (laughs).

Aoi: Yeah, it is (laughs). But I feel most comfortable doing things at my own pace. And the band has never denied that part of me. They’ve always accepted what I bring to the table.

Interviewer: How long were you able to stay in that carefree attitude?

Aoi: Quite a while... maybe until we played Budokan for the first time? (laughs). Up until then, I was just enjoying the band without thinking too deeply about things. But when the venues started getting bigger, like Budokan, I started to notice things.

Interviewer: Like how you’re not the same type as RUKI?

Aoi: Yeah. On a simpler level, I started thinking, “I’m not that great at guitar, am I?” That’s when I began to really think about things. Like, I should start writing songs more seriously. I mean, no one wants to hold the band back, right? That’s when I realized I needed to study music and guitar more.

Interviewer: So, after the first Budokan show, that’s when you started thinking that way. Listening to you, it seems like you’re hard on yourself within the band, and you have a strong sense of inferiority compared to the other members.

Aoi: Ah... that might be true.

Interviewer: Do you think that’s a reaction to how carefree you were in the beginning?

Aoi: Yeah... maybe if I hadn’t been holding the band back, the GazettE could have gone even further.

Interviewer: Really? You feel that strongly?

Aoi: Yeah... I think those feelings started around the time after our first Budokan show. We began doing solo shows at bigger venues consistently. When that happened, we started to put more effort into refining our music. We worked on creating something with a stronger sense of identity and a sound that only we could produce. We wanted to make music and put on shows that reflected our unique world. But then... the band started to feel boring.

Interviewer: Wait, what do you mean by “boring”?

Aoi: No, it’s really just a matter of my lack of skill. As the band grew bigger, the members’ opinions became sharper and more critical. For example, during discussions, sometimes complicated ideas would come up, and I wouldn’t really understand them.

Interviewer: And that’s when you thought it was “boring”?

Aoi: There was a time when I thought that, but looking back now, I realize... I was just pushing away everything that seemed difficult. If I had made more of an effort to understand and study things back then, I probably wouldn’t have thought it was boring. And maybe I wouldn’t have been dragging the band down.

Interviewer: When you thought it was boring, how did you handle it at the time?

Aoi: Well... I mostly just went out drinking (laughs).

Interviewer: (Laughs)

Aoi: I didn’t really have the motivation to resolve anything within myself. I just wanted to complain, and that’s how I got into drinking. In hindsight, I realize I was just sulking. I didn’t like that I couldn’t understand what everyone else was saying, but instead of working on it, I blamed the band. I’d be like, “They’re just off in their own world, talking among themselves” (laughs).

Interviewer: That’s pretty childish (laughs).

Aoi: Right? So, back then, after recording sessions, I’d just go drink alone and then head straight back into recording the next day. I wasn’t really taking music seriously.

Interviewer: Did you ever think about quitting the band during that time?

Aoi: I did think about it… but then, I’d also wonder, “If I leave, what would I even do?

Interviewer: Of course. So, when was this happening exactly?

Aoi: It was around 3 or 4 years after the band started... maybe even up until more recently. When we were making the DIM album? Yeah... pretty recently, actually (laughs).

Interviewer: So, right before you moved to Sony. That’s a long time to feel like that.

Aoi: Yeah. Honestly, the time when I was really having fun and feeling at peace was up until we played Budokan for the first time. After that, the band started to grow bigger, and that’s when those feelings started creeping in. And even though I thought about quitting, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I’d just vent in interviews instead (laughs).

Interviewer: That’s pretty bad (laughs). The other members must have read those interviews, right?

Aoi: Yeah, and that created some distance between us. It made things awkward. Which is funny, since it was me who was complaining in the first place.

Interviewer: How do you think the other members felt during that time?

Aoi: I’d love to know that myself (laughs). I think that period lasted for about three years. There was a distance between me and the others, like I was somehow out of place. I think we didn’t really have proper conversations until around our 10th anniversary.

Interviewer: That long?

Aoi: Of course, we’d have personal conversations from time to time, but we weren’t close enough to share everything going on in our private lives. We’d occasionally mess around and joke, but it wasn’t like we were close friends or anything.

Interviewer: That must have been tough, being in the band under those circumstances.

Aoi: But yeah, I know it’s kind of like I created that situation myself. I realized I was the one distancing myself from the members. But at that point, I couldn’t just start a conversation with “Hey, so...” It was that kind of relationship for a while.

Interviewer: I see. Like I mentioned earlier, almost everything you’ve shared today has been from a pretty negative perspective.

Aoi: Yeah, I guess so (laughs).

Interviewer: So, when do you feel the most confident or proud of yourself in the band?

Aoi: Hmm... it’s probably during live shows. I feel like I’m at my coolest when I’m performing live. But that’s about it... yeah, nothing else really stands out.

Interviewer: What do you consider to be your strengths?

Aoi: My strengths… my strengths… I don’t really feel like I have any noteworthy strengths as a person.

Interviewer: (Laughs) Surely, there’s something?

Aoi: Hmm... my strengths... hmm... do I have any?

Interviewer: (Laughs)

Aoi: I’m not sure. But I don’t think not having strengths means I shouldn’t be out here doing what I do. I don’t have any remarkable talents or skills, and I’m not someone who’s worked exceptionally hard either. So, instead, I feel like my role is to support people who do have talent, or who have something they want to express. I want to help those people make the most of themselves.

Interviewer: So, you’re not pushing them away anymore?

Aoi: Yeah, that's right. I’m not like I used to be. If I can present or support parts of someone’s talent that they can’t fully express on their own, then that’s where I’d like to use myself. That might be my strength... if I can say that about myself (laughs).

Interviewer: I think that’s fair. Listening to you, I notice that even though you’re a bit negative, you have a very objective view of your place within the band, don’t you?

Aoi: Yeah, I guess so...

Interviewer: You seem to have a clear understanding of yourself, and what kind of person you are.

Aoi: I know I’m pretty ordinary. Actually, maybe a bit below ordinary (laughs).

Interviewer: So, why do you think this “below ordinary” person is needed by others?

Aoi: Needed... am I needed?

Interviewer: The other members and those around you haven’t said, “We don’t need you,” right?

Aoi: Probably not.

Interviewer: So, why do you think that is?

Aoi: Hmm... that’s a tough question.

Interviewer: But it’s an important one, isn’t it?

Aoi: Yeah, it’s really important. Why am I needed... I’ve never really thought about it, so I’m not sure I can answer right away (laughs). Why am I able to continue in this band? Why haven’t I quit yet?

Interviewer: Can you imagine the GazettE as a four-member band, without you?

Aoi: The GazettE as four members... well, I guess I can imagine it.

Interviewer: You can imagine it? (Laughs)

Aoi: I mean, they’d probably manage fine as a four-member band (laughs). But... I don’t know. I can’t really picture them performing live as just four. Hmm... yeah... but maybe they would still be able to keep going as a four-member band. Now that I think about it, that makes me feel kind of sad...

Interviewer: Sorry for asking such a weird question (laughs).

Aoi: No worries (laughs). ...You know, hypothetically speaking, if the GazettE were to disband, I think I’d be done with bands. I don’t think I could ever create something that surpasses the GazettE. So, in the end, I really want to stay in this band. But at the same time, there's this part of me that thinks "people are ultimately alone." Being on your own feels comfortable, but I also don’t want to completely disconnect from others.

Interviewer: So, people do feel lonely?

Aoi: Yeah, thinking about what it’d be like if I left the GazettE makes me realize how lonely it would be (laughs).

Interviewer: Earlier, you said you don’t look back on the past, right? And from what you’ve said, it’s clear that you tend to see yourself in a pretty negative light.

Aoi: (laughs)

Interviewer: It seems like you think your past self was no good. But on the other hand, it’s obvious that you’ve always cared about the band and have been conscious of the GazettE. It feels like everything you’ve said reflects that. What do you think?

Aoi: Hmm, yeah... to be honest, I want to do more things together as the five of us.

Interviewer: Can you elaborate on that?

Aoi: As a band, I just want us to do more things together. But in the GazettE, the person who brings the song typically takes the lead and progresses things from there. I want us to discuss more and work together when we create songs. I want to feel like we’re all making the songs together.

Interviewer: Isn’t that what you did with the album BEAUTIFUL DEFORMITY?

Aoi: It’s true that BEAUTIFUL DEFORMITY was made by collecting songs from everyone, but I still want to collaborate more. For example... we could gather in the studio and make music together, like all playing at once.

Interviewer: You mean like a jam session?

Aoi: Exactly. I think I’ve always admired that kind of process. Nowadays, you can create songs on a computer without even going into a studio, and we just send data back and forth to each other. That feels a bit... lonely, you know?

Interviewer: You want to do more band-like activities.

Aoi: Yeah, it seems like it would be more fun, and it’d be easier to share opinions directly when we’re all playing together. Playing in the studio gives a greater sense of participation in the song compared to working with data. I think if we did that, I’d feel more involved in the song and maybe discover new ways to approach it. Though, I’ve never tried it, so I’m not sure.

Interviewer: You’ve never done it before?

Aoi: No, we’ve never really gone into the studio to create a song. So... maybe it would lead to arguments, but honestly, I want to make music like that as a band. Still, I feel a little embarrassed to be the one to bring it up.

Interviewer: Why is that?

Aoi: Well… isn’t it kind of overly passionate, the way I’ve been going on about it? (laughs).

Interviewer: (Laughs) But I think your bandmates might feel the same way.

Aoi: You think so?

Interviewer: I think RUKI is someone who could do everything on his own if he wanted to. He’s the kind of musician who could pursue a more solo-driven or one-man approach, even without the band. But instead, based on what I’ve seen from last year’s activities, it feels like what RUKI wants from everyone aligns with what you’ve been saying.

Aoi: That makes sense.

Interviewer: Otherwise, you wouldn’t have thought to make an album like BEAUTIFUL DEFORMITY, nor would you have undertaken such extreme activities last year.

Aoi: That’s a good point…

Interviewer: In other words, I feel like the direction the GazettE has been heading since the year before last aligns with what you just described. And March 10th at the Budokan feels like a culmination of that—a crucial stage. It’s not about the 13th anniversary itself but more about what this moment represents for the band.

Aoi: Yeah, I agree. For me, Budokan feels like, ‘Finally, we can step out into the open.’ Of course, it’s ironic since we were the ones who decided not to be visible for a year (laughs).

Interviewer: (Laughs).

Aoi: Budokan is an open space, a stage outside of the inner circles we’ve been in. That’s why this live show should reflect everything we’ve thought about as a band, everything we’ve gained over the past year. I want 2015 to be the year we put it all out there—starting with Budokan and continuing afterward. Every performance has to be meaningful; otherwise, last year would feel like it amounted to nothing.

Interviewer: So that’s how you’re approaching Budokan. Do you have any specific goals or things you want to achieve?

Aoi: Of course, I do, but they’re all really basic things. Like, I need to make sure I play the guitar properly or work on my stamina. Thinking about the future, I need to listen to more music, too. So, it’s all just basic stuff—things I feel I need to work on for myself.

Interviewer: It seems like everything is about what you "need to do" (laughs).

Aoi: Yeah, it is (laughs). But I don’t really have a strong desire for a particular form of expression, or at least it doesn’t feel that way to me.

Interviewer: In that case, what you mentioned earlier about "getting together in the studio and making music as a group"—that's what you want to do the most right now, right?

Aoi: Yes, that’s what I want to do.

Interviewer: I think aiming for a live performance that captures the fun of being a band like that would be great.

Aoi: Yeah, but when the five of us actually get into the studio, I feel like we wouldn’t even know what to talk about. Usually, we have those kinds of discussions in a meeting room. Except, there are no instruments there.

Interviewer: So you’re looking at a computer screen while you do that?

Aoi: Yeah. But, being in the studio together and playing is definitely more fun. That’s how we used to do it back when we first formed the band, playing in the studio as we worked on songs.

Interviewer: By the way, do you remember the first time you went into the studio with the other members of the GazettE?

Aoi: I remember it vividly. It was really fun. Up until then, I had only met Uruha, so the first time I went into the studio was also the first time I met the other members. It was at some studio in Yokohama. We played some music, and afterward, we all shook hands.

Interviewer: Shook hands?

Aoi: Yeah, like, “Let’s do this from now on!” It was really fun. I remember it so clearly. I want to do that again.

Interviewer: That’s a really band-like episode.

Aoi: Well, it sounds like something straight out of a cheesy coming-of-age story (laughs).

Interviewer: But still, with "BEAUTIFUL DEFORMITY" and last year's activities I think that's what RUKI is asking of everyone.

Aoi: Ah..

Interviewer: Of course, he has a strong ideal vision in his mind, so for the band to get closer to that, each member has to do a lot of work.

Aoi: That’s true. Especially in my case, I think there are many things to do.

Interviewer: But I also have a strong feeling that he doesn’t want to just order the band members around. It’s important to him that each member is genuinely satisfied as you move forward together, even if it’s a very inefficient and labor-intensive way of doing things.

Aoi: It is inefficient.

Interviewer: As I mentioned earlier, that means you are committed to maintaining the essence of the band. How do you feel about that?

Aoi: For me, the GazettE is like... there’s RUKI, who is like the mikoshi*, and I see myself as someone whose role is to carry that mikoshi. And RUKI doesn’t just see himself as the shrine, but he also wants all of us band members to be cool carriers of it. He doesn’t want to be in a lame band. He has this vision of a really cool band that he aims for, and if I were just some lame guy, I would not be worthy to carry that mikoshi of his. So, I have to work hard to make sure that doesn't happen. I definitely want to keep playing in the band and keep carrying the mikoshi. Of course, it’s not just about carrying it; I’d like to add my own uniqueness in the process as well.

*mikoshi is a sacred religious palanquin (also translated as portable Shinto shrine). Shinto followers believe that it serves as the vehicle to transport a deity.

Interviewer: That’s the ‘No one else can carry it like I can’ part, right?

Aoi: Exactly. That’s why... I want to keep going with this band (laughs).

Interviewer: I think you have a particularly strong feeling about this among the members.

Aoi: Maybe so.

Interviewer: Because of that strong feeling, you might feel that your skills or mindset aren’t quite keeping up. Maybe that’s why you’ve been expressing some negativity. (laughs)

Aoi: That’s quite a deep interpretation, but if that’s the case, I’m grateful for it (laughs). But really, I’m enjoying it much more now than I used to. I think we’ve all started to understand more—about music, and in general. It feels like we’re finally getting a grasp of it, like we really know what it means to make great music. Back in the day, we didn’t fully understand music when we started the band, but we still had things we wanted to achieve and goals we aimed for. So we just had to feel our way through.

Interviewer: That’s how it is in the early days of forming a band, right?

Aoi: Yeah, whether it was the sound or the riffs, everything was trial and error. But now, we’ve learned how to shape things, how to create certain sounds, and we’ve figured out a lot of different methods over the years. After doing this for more than 10 years, it really feels like we’re finally making music properly as a band.

Interviewer: Do you feel like you’ve caught up now?

Aoi: Maybe I’ve finally caught up with everyone. Not just being in the band, but actually being able to make music properly.

Interviewer: I think your presence also plays a crucial role in embodying the essence of the GazettE.

Aoi: Do you think so? (laughs). Well… I would have liked to have a more cool image, though. Not like this casual guy I am. I feel like I need to put in more effort to be better.

Interviewer: Also, you need to be able to be more positive about yourself, right? Instead of always putting yourself down (laughs).

Aoi: Yeah, if I get sulky, it’ll be like the old days all over again.

Interviewer: You need to fully accept yourself and express more of that side of you. Of course, effort and hard work are still important too.

Aoi: Yeah, because otherwise, I’d just end up being a source of stress for the other members.

Interviewer: What do you think is something that only you can do? Something that RUKI can’t do but you can?

Aoi: Hmm... what could it be that I can do, but RUKI can’t? I mean, he can do pretty much anything... sorry, I really can’t think of anything.

Interviewer: Well, there’s still time, so think about it (laughs).

Aoi: Hmm… Is there anything RUKI can’t do? Actually, I think he could do everything (laughs). I’m not sure. But I know what I can do for the band. I just make sure I don’t become careless. That’s about it.

Interviewer: Can you elaborate more on what you mean by “careless”?

Aoi: For example, even during song selection meetings, it's about thinking of what the band needs rather than just what I want to do. Even if a song I bring up gets rejected, I don’t sulk or get frustrated about it. Instead, I work on the next one and keep trying. When I'm asked for guitar phrases, I make sure to approach it thoughtfully, putting my own spin on it. It’s all pretty standard stuff, but the point is that I put the band's needs first, without losing my own voice.

Interviewer: So, you have this mindset where you prioritize the band, but still ensure you’re bringing your unique perspective into it.

Aoi: Right. Like with song arrangements—it's not enough to just play the exact phrase the composer wrote. If I don't add something of my own, it feels like I don't have a place in the band. It’s like having no home to return to, you know? That’s why, even if my approach is wrong sometimes, I believe it’s important to offer my own ideas. For example, if the band decides to do something big, like play at the Budokan, it’s better to voice my own opinion—like saying “I want to do this,” rather than staying silent. I’d say, “I’d like to do it this way.” If we can’t have discussions like that, then the GazettE probably wouldn’t work.

Interviewer: I think you're right.

Aoi: Of course, RUKI is someone who could take charge and make all the decisions on his own. If he wanted to, he could do it all himself. And in reality, that might make things faster and could create a stronger, more cohesive world. But that’s not the GazettE. Even if it’s a little clumsy, I think it’s important for us to all come together, discuss, and put our individuality into the music. That’s what I think makes the GazettE the GazettE. I’ll do what I can to make that happen. That’s probably the best thing I can do, for myself.

Interviewer: I see. It feels like these 13 years with the band have been a journey of realizing that the band, and your role within it, is more important than just focusing on yourself.

Aoi: It’s more like my role within the band is what’s most important. If I lose sight of that, things could go off track.

Interviewer: As I mentioned earlier, I feel like the current the GazettE is in the process of rediscovering the essence of being a band. The image of the five of you jamming together, just letting loose—honestly, I haven’t felt that much in your recent live performances. Instead, it’s felt more like each of you is doing your own thing, almost disconnected from each other.

Aoi: Ah... yes, I can see that.

Interviewer: But after Tokyo Dome, the direction the GazettE started moving in seems to focus entirely on the idea of “band unity.” While RUKI’s creativity definitely stands out, he still wants everything to be shared equally among the five of you. In other words, what matters most is how the other members feel about the band as a whole.

Aoi: That's true.

Interviewer: This theme feels important for the band now, and it's a key point for fans watching your live performances. Which leads to interviews like this, where we dive deeper into what each member thinks about being part of the GazettE.

Aoi: I planned to say something cooler during the interview... but here we are (laughs).

Interviewer: I didn’t expect the conversation to get this negative either (laughs). But it made me realize that this band has really strong relationships. What do you think?

Aoi: I think we get along well... but it’s hard to put this relationship into words. We’re not friends, and we’re not family either... What are we?

Interviewer: You must spend so much time with your bandmates that it just feels like the norm.

Aoi: Yeah, it’s so normal that I don’t even know how to describe our relationship (laughs).

Interviewer: How do you feel about it?

Aoi: Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about it... I don’t know what the "mikoshi guy" (referring to RUKI) thinks of me, but personally, I only want to create things with them. I only want to make things that can be done with these five people. Even if I’m still not where the “mikoshi” guy wants me to be, that’s how I feel.

Interviewer: That’s a bit of a negative thought (laughs).

Aoi: (Laughs) Maybe, but I really want to create something that only the five of us can make together. It’s not about what I want others to do for me; it’s more about how seriously I can face the GazettE. I just don’t want to betray the band, so I’ll do anything I can to avoid that. That’s the most important thing. I don’t want to do anything that would bring shame to them.

Interviewer: You mean because of you?

Aoi: Yea. I don’t want people to say we looked uncool on stage because of me. So, I think I need to keep thinking things through, and then show what I’ve come up with on stage. As I’m saying this, I’m suddenly getting emotional... my eyes are tearing up.

Interviewer: I can see a tear!

Aoi: (laughs)

Interviewer: It’s a testament to how deeply you care about the band. I think the main reason you’re in this band is because of that strong feeling.

Aoi: You think so?

Interviewer: Yes, and I believe all the other members understand that about you. That’s why they want to stay in the band with you, don’t you think?.

Aoi: Maybe...

Interviewer: You’ve been putting yourself down a lot during this interview, but it feels like everyone knows what’s behind those feelings.

Aoi: Do you think so? I feel... very vulnerable right now (laughs).

Reita

Interviewer: First, about the number 13: it’s not a particularly rounded or positive number, and in fact, it’s often seen as unlucky. Why do you think the band has chosen to focus on it this time?

Reita: In the past, we celebrated anniversaries like the 7th or 10th, doing big shows at places like Makuhari Messe, but honestly, it was more like, 'Well, it’s an anniversary, so let’s do it.' This time, though, it’s the 13th, an unlucky number, right? And somehow that feels fitting for where we are now.

Interviewer: So that ‘unlucky’ number resonates with the band’s current state?

Reita: Yes. I think we’ve always had a habit of humbling ourselves, almost to an extreme—like by saying 'we’re trash' as a way to fire ourselves up.

Interviewer: Intentionally pushing yourselves like that?

Reita: Right. Last year, in particular, was that kind of year for us, so I think the 13th anniversary naturally follows that flow.

Interviewer: I see. By the way, what kind of year was last year for you, personally?

Reita: Honestly, last year was the best year we’ve had so far, in terms of what we learned. Not releasing new material and still doing activities as a band was a huge lesson. Releasing something new every year is tough—it drains the band’s energy. Taking a year to work only with our past material made us realize how important it is to have a variety of strengths if we want to keep going long-term.

Interviewer: How about the fact that you didn’t do much in terms of releases or other visible activities? It seems like there could be downsides to that.

Reita: Probably so, especially since we were practically invisible to anyone outside our fan club. Some people may have even forgotten about us. But then, we never aimed to be a band for everyone, and we didn’t start out hoping to be widely loved, either. Instead, we focused on the fans who love us the most and wanted to stay closely connected to them for that year.

Interviewer: Were you ever afraid that people would forget about the band?

Reita: Not at all. That’s why now I feel like saying, 'Thank you for waiting.' Not that anyone actually was waiting, maybe (laughs). Over the past year, we did a standing tour—

Interviewer: (Laughs) So it’s something you can joke about. During the tour, were there moments when memories of your younger self, or the band’s history, came back to you?

Reita: While touring?

Interviewer: Yes. Of course, the GazettE started out in small live houses, right? I wondered if doing that tour brought back memories.

Reita: Right. 13 years ago…back then, we didn’t even have proper setlists. Compared to those days, the band has definitely become more serious.

Interviewer: (laughs)

Reita: There’s that phrase, 'return to your roots,' but for us, going back to the way we started wouldn’t be good at all (laughs).

Interviewer: What was the vibe when you first started the GazettE?

Reita: The vibe was actually pretty serious. Before I joined the GazettE, I’d been friends with Uruha since fourth grade, and we’d played in several bands together before the GazettE. But none of those bands lasted very long; it was always just one breakup or member leaving after another. So when we formed the GazettE, I thought, ‘This will be my last band.’ If this didn’t work out, I was prepared to get a regular job and settle down. I was raised by a single mother, so I wasn’t really in a position to just keep playing in bands.

Interviewer: You didn’t want to cause trouble for your family.

Reita: Exactly. So I started the GazettE with the mindset that if this didn’t work out, I’d give up on the band life. And it turned out that the other members also felt like they wanted it to be their last band. We all thought, if it doesn’t work out with the five of us, then we’ll let it go.

Interviewer: Do you remember the first time the five of you played together?

Reita: Yeah, I do. At first, though, Ruki was on drums. That’s a strong memory for me—he joined as our drummer, and it felt really good playing together after a long time. We’d been struggling to find a drummer, so we’d just been using a drum machine until then. Having a live drummer again after all that time left a strong impression.

Interviewer: So those are your memories of ‘Ruki the drummer.’

Reita: Right. After Ruki switched to vocals, we got together with Aoi and our drummer at the time and played songs like ‘Wakaremichi’ and ‘Akai One-Piece’ in the studio. It just clicked. That was the first day I met Aoi, and we shook hands, like, ‘Nice to meet you; let’s do this.’ Even though it was our first time meeting, it felt surprisingly natural to play together. I’d already been playing with Uruha from the very beginning, so there was no awkwardness there at all.

Interviewer: What were your thoughts at that time?

Reita: Even though we had no audience back then, I had this feeling, like, ‘We can do this!’ The first time our crowd surpassed 30 people, I thought, ‘Our time has come!’ (laughs).

Interviewer: That's a nice sentiment (laughs).

Reita: It is. And all of us would say it together, like, ‘It’s our time!’ But I had this confidence—however unfounded—that we could make it as the five of us.

Interviewer: What’s different between the Reita back then and now?

Reita: Back then, I believed standing out was everything, so I’d push myself to the front of the stage. My bass lines were all about grabbing people’s attention and making an impression. I constantly wanted to show off. That might be the biggest difference between then and now.

Interviewer: So you don’t feel the need to stand out as much now?

Reita: Right. Now, I only step up when it really feels necessary, and if it’s not needed, just playing the root notes feels the best. I know when to hold back. Now, it's more of a team effort with the five of us, but back then, it was all about each of us trying to be in the spotlight. It was like everyone was constantly going, ‘It’s me, it’s me!’ We didn’t even really discuss the phrasing or anything.

Interviewer: So it was more individual play than team play?

Reita: It was just clashing with each other, really. But over time, we started to understand things like, ‘Oh, this guy’s personality is like this,’ or ‘He wants to play it this way.’ Gradually, we started to respect each other and began figuring out when to step back and when to stand out.

Interviewer: So you started becoming more aware of each other’s presence. I think that means your relationships have evolved little by little. In that process, did you start realizing things about yourself, like ‘Oh, I’m actually this kind of person’?

Reita: Yeah, I did. For instance, I realized that I’m not someone who should be at the front. I’m more of a person who watches from behind rather than leading from the front.

Interviewer: What made you realize that?

Reita: I noticed it both during live shows and in band meetings. As I kept going with the band, it became clear to me. Personality-wise, I’m not one to assert myself much.

Interviewer: Really? But you just mentioned that you used to play bass in a way that drew attention to yourself.

Reita: I think maybe I was trying to cover up that side of myself. I’d give twisted opinions in meetings or try to do something different, even though I’m not really that kind of person. But eventually, forcing myself to act that way started to feel like it wasn’t fun.

Interviewer: That’s interesting. I think a lot of people would be surprised to hear this, because the way you hype up the crowd on stage gives a very different impression.

Reita: I’m sure it does.

Interviewer: Being a bassist seems to fit your personality, but you also have these iconic moments where you’re front and center during the encore, leading the crowd. So when you say, ‘I’m not someone who stands at the front,’ it doesn’t sound like the same person who does that on stage.

Reita: That’s because I’m playing a character—‘Reita’ is like a role for me. I don’t normally raise my voice or get angry. The GazettE makes me act that way. I like performing that character, but it’s not really my true personality. That’s why, for me, live shows feel incredibly out of the ordinary. No matter how many shows we do, I always have this sense of, ‘This isn’t the ordinary me!’ And that feeling is a big part of what makes performing so special.

Interviewer: I imagine when you first started the band, you probably weren’t fully aware of that side of yourself?

Reita: No, I wasn’t.

Interviewer: So when did you start noticing your true self?

Reita: It was probably around the fifth or sixth year of the band, maybe after our first show at Budokan. Around that age, I think I was finally starting to mature, analyzing myself more. I got a better understanding of my own personality and started to recognize what I could do and what I couldn’t. Going through that phase, I started figuring out what it meant to really be myself.

Interviewer: So for you now, Reita, being on stage is something out of the ordinary.

Reita: Yeah, that’s right. My onstage ‘self’ feels natural when I’m being low-key or just sticking to the root notes. When I’m hyping the crowd, I’m definitely playing a character that’s different from my usual self. But maybe, in a way, it’s also a part of who I am—like something I usually hold back is being let out.

Interviewer: I see. For someone who performs on stage, having a sense of your true self is important, isn’t it?

Reita: It’s crucial.

Interviewer: Without that, it’s hard to stand on a stage in front of big crowds, like at Budokan or a dome, right? I feel like a fake version of yourself would get exposed.

Reita: Exactly.

Interviewer: So as you continued with the band, do you think you faced that kind of challenge—like a wall you needed to break through?

Reita: I think I did. Back then, I wasn’t fully aware of it, but there were times when I felt it. For example, in 2004, we had our first solo show at SHIBUYA-AX... and I couldn’t stop my legs from shaking on stage.

Interviewer: Were you... scared?

Reita: I hadn’t expected the tickets to sell out. But when I looked out, nearly 2,000 people had gathered. Our previous solo show was at Takadanobaba AREA, so this was a massive step up. I was so nervous that I barely remember the concert itself. And at that moment, I realized that we hadn’t reached that stage on our own strength.

Interviewer: What do you mean?

Reita: I realized it wasn’t just our own power—it was the people around us who had helped bring us to AX: the promotion team, the agency, everyone around us. Standing there, I wanted to perform with my feet firmly on the ground. But instead, I was shaky the whole time… it was honestly frustrating. I couldn’t enjoy it, and it felt like such a waste. From that point on, I thought, ‘I want us to bring everyone along with our own strength.’ I wanted to bring both the fans and the staff along with us on the strength of the band alone. That’s when I started asking myself, ‘What do I need to do to ground myself? What does it mean to be truly grounded?’ That was when I really began discovering my true self.

Interviewer: So you wanted to be your authentic self on stage.

Reita: Back then, I even used to ban smiling on stage. But performing live is fun, isn’t it? (laughs) There are so many moments when you just naturally want to smile. I started thinking that maybe a real live show is when you can express that naturally. That’s how I came to my current style.

Interviewer: I see. As the band grew, you discovered your true self. But when you realized things about yourself, like 'Oh, this is who I am,' did you ever feel lonely, or experience a sense of inferiority or defeat?

Reita: Not at all. But… if I were a solo musician instead of in a band, I might have struggled and ended up falling apart. But I’m in a band, so I have immense trust in my bandmates, and I really care about them… even though, honestly, I’d rather not say I 'care' about them out loud (laughs).

Interviewer: (laughs)

Reita: Each of us has a place where we fit. A personality like mine is definitely necessary in a band. Being in a band lets me see my personality traits in a positive light, even though those traits are actually my own insecurities.

Interviewer: What do you mean?

Reita: I'm pretty ordinary, you know (laughs). Compared to the other members, I think I'm actually pretty normal. But I think that's largely because of what my mom used to tell me when I was younger. She'd say things like, 'Don’t think your perspective is the only one' or ‘Don’t assume your opinions are the standard.’ I took it to mean that I should always listen to other people’s viewpoints.

Interviewer: Just hearing that, I can tell she’s a great mom (laughs).

Reita: Haha! Yeah, so instead of trying to push my own opinions, I tend to listen to other people’s perspectives. I don’t speak up much, and I think things through in a pretty conventional way. But that’s also an insecurity of mine. Sometimes, I’d love to be the type who can just ignore everyone else and push forward with a ‘let’s just do it’ attitude. But I can’t just do things selfishly without considering others. It’s probably a part of me that I can’t change. So, instead of seeing that as a negative trait, I’m trying to approach it positively and think, ‘This kind of personality is also necessary in a band.’ I’m working on it.

Interviewer: So you're the type that keeps things to yourself.

Reita: Me?

Interviewer: That’s what it seems like. You’re always thinking about others, so you don’t express everything. You hold yourself back. But you can’t keep everything suppressed forever. So, on stage, in that non-everyday setting, the side you usually keep hidden comes out.

Reita: Ah… yeah, that’s probably true. If my younger self could see me now, he’d be shocked. When I was a kid, I never thought I’d be standing in front of people. I mean… when I was in junior high, I once had to speak in front of the whole school during an assembly, and I totally fumbled and embarrassed myself (laughs). I was that nervous. But as I kept going with the GazettE, I gradually got over it—or maybe I didn’t really overcome it at all. I think my feeling that the band was cool outweighed everything else, and that’s why I started. My personality didn’t matter; I just jumped into it with sheer impulse.

Interviewer: So, it sounds like you saw things in being part of a band that you felt you didn’t have yourself. Maybe that’s what you aspired to?

Reita: Yeah, absolutely, 100%. There was so much that I didn’t have, and it felt like the band had everything I was missing.

Interviewer: Did you feel that maybe the band would help you overcome all those insecurities?

Reita: I think that feeling was there. But in the end, I realized that if you don’t have a sense of your true self, you can’t keep going in a band either. Even if you try to hide it, it still comes out during a live performance. So, it’s this constant tug-of-war. On one hand, I seek out in the band things that are the complete opposite of myself, and on the other, I’m trying to stay true to who I am.

Interviewer: Through your experience with the GazettE, you've come to understand yourself better. So, what does the band mean to you? Is it the band over yourself, or yourself over the band?

Reita: The band comes first. I feel like who I am now is because of the band. It’s like this version of myself was shaped by the band. So, yeah, the band is more important than me as an individual. I prioritize the band in everything I think about. I also keep thinking about how we can keep the band going for a long time.

Interviewer: You want to keep going for a long time?

Reita: Yes. I don't want us to be the kind of band that sells a million albums and then breaks up right after. I have a strong desire to keep playing in this band with these five people for as long as possible, even if it’s just a second longer.

Interviewer: I understand. Now, let’s shift the focus to your band members. I believe that in this band, Ruki, as the frontman, takes the lead in a lot of the musical direction. How do you feel about him?

Reita: Well… first, I trust him completely when it comes to the things he wants to do or express. The things he’s wanted to try have never been wrong, not from the very beginning. He even handled the flyer designs when we were starting out. I really trust him, and I want to bring his ideas to life with all five of us. His sense of style isn’t just about music; he stands out in so many ways. Honestly, I think he’s amazing. But just admiring him isn’t enough, you know? It’s not like I’m trying to rival him, but I want to make it so that only my bass feels like it truly completes his work. I’ve felt that way for quite some time.

Interviewer: Do you also feel a desire to lead creatively, like Ruki does, or to shape things in your own way?

Reita: Of course, I’d love to reach a point where I can create songs as consistently as Ruki does. But for me, it’s not so much about my own songs; I just want to do cool things with the band. If there’s a song Ruki wrote and a song I wrote, we’ll always go with the one that’s the coolest. In our song selection meetings, I don’t push for my songs; we listen to all of them and just pick what’s best. So, it’s not about my own work or anything like that.

Interviewer: I see. This is also about Ruki, but I feel like he has a lot of ideas, and he could probably do everything himself if he wanted to.

Reita: Yeah, that’s probably true.

Interviewer: Honestly, I think he could run a one-man band if he wanted to. But the GazettE isn’t like that. He doesn’t aim to make it a one-man band. What do you think about that?

Reita: We’re not the kind of band where one person holds absolute power. If any one of us says they don’t want to do something, we don’t do it. And I think Ruki actually likes that about this band. Sure, he could do everything himself and hold all the power if he wanted to, but he doesn’t want to be in that kind of band. He doesn’t force his ideas on us.

Interviewer: In that sense, he’s like you, right?

Reita: I think so. For him, the number one thing he wants to do is probably the band. So, even if he has other things he wants to do, he wouldn't let anything interfere with that. And that goes for everyone, not just RUKI. It's still about the band. No one is doing solo activities. First and foremost, it's about playing in the band.

Interviewer: Has that feeling stayed the same over time?

Reita: Recently, it’s only grown stronger. That’s why last year played out the way it did. We didn’t release a new album, which, like I mentioned earlier, was because the band was really drained. If we want to continue for a long time, we needed to address that exhaustion.

Interviewer: In the long run, that makes sense.

Reita: I think each member has come to value the band even more deeply.

Interviewer: And maybe a big part of that is because your frontman used to be the drummer.

Reita: That could be. When RUKI was the drummer, he was at the very back of the stage. After a lot of live shows, you’d see audience comments saying things like, 'I couldn’t see the drummer at all' (laughs). I remember, though, even back then, the vocals he would lay down on his demo tracks were really impressive.

Interviewer: Even though he was a drummer?

Reita: Yeah, even though he was a drummer (laughs). Then Uruha suggested, 'Why don’t you try being the vocalist?' But I was like, 'Huh, vocalist? But I’m having fun with him as part of the rhythm section,' so at first, I actually opposed Ruki becoming the vocalist.

Interviewer: Really?

Reita: Yeah. But he was good at singing, and he wanted to try it himself. So from then on, he dove right in as a frontman. I think if Ruki had stayed a drummer, he wouldn’t be the person he is now. It’s different because he didn’t start out with a frontman mentality. That sets him apart from your typical frontman.

Interviewer: So, he has an awareness of the other members, then.

Reita: I think so. It’s not just him, though; my ideal of a band also involves five distinct personalities coming together. Each of us has our own individuality, or a separate style that’s well-defined. I see it as a pentagon. And how do we make that pentagon? There’s no clear-cut answer; it’s just a matter of each of us pursuing our own unique style.

Interviewer: This ties back to what you mentioned earlier.

Reita: Yeah (laughs). First, you become aware of your own individuality. Then you each take your positions based on that. And that’s where the pentagon starts to form. I don’t know exactly what shape the pentagon we’ve created is right now, but I don’t think it has any one member standing out disproportionately. If even one member says 'No,' then the band as a whole says 'No.' The band only moves forward when everyone is on board. As long as that principle holds, I think our pentagon can stay beautifully balanced.

Interviewer: Would you say last year was about building that pentagon?

Reita: Yes.

Interviewer: It was, in a way, a year for yourselves—not for the fans, the management, or the label. A year dedicated to yourselves.

Reita: It's terribly inefficient (laughs).

Interviewer: Yes, it is (laughs). And waiting until everyone says 'yes' to every decision must be exhausting. It probably takes a lot of time and money, too.

Reita: That's true. And in visual kei, there’s the added time and expense of makeup and costumes. But... we want to do it without worrying about efficiency or money. When we started the band, the only thing we cared about was creating something cool. Efficiency or money didn’t even come into play—and of course, we didn’t have any money (laughs). We just wanted to make something cool. And that’s still the only thing we want to do—create things that all five of us think are cool. So if it means being inefficient, so be it. If that’s what it takes to make something cool, we’ll do it. If we started factoring in efficiency and money, it would be a completely different mindset than when we first started. And honestly, if we got to the point where we were managing the band based on money or efficiency, I think it would be really boring. We don’t want to end up like that.

Interviewer: Would you say all five of you feel the same way?

Reita: I think so. We’re driven less by a sense of 'this is what the GazettE should be' and more by 'this is what we don’t want the GazettE to become,' avoiding things that don’t feel right as we move forward. Basically, we don’t do anything that we think is uncool—simple as that. Sure, times have changed, and there are new approaches in the music world that have evolved along with trends. Maybe we, too, will eventually have to change in some ways. But when it comes to live shows, we’re all about that real, in-the-moment experience, and we want to keep that. Our live performances…we never want to lose that feeling that can only come from being there in person. There’s something at our shows that you just can’t get by watching clips online. We want to share that feeling with as many people as possible. Probably the fastest way to do that would be to hold a free concert at Tokyo Dome (laughs).

Interviewer: (laughs)

Reita: I think that showing people who have never seen our live performances is probably the quickest way for them to understand us. But since that's pretty extreme on its own, we've started considering doing things like performing at festivals.

Interviewer: You even played at Rising Sun (Rising Sun Rock Festival, a rock festival held every summer in Hokkaido).

Reita: Yeah, there were definitely a lot of people there who didn’t come just to see us. And if they watched us and thought, 'It’s not my taste' or 'I didn’t enjoy it,' that’s totally fine. I just really want people who don’t know us or haven’t seen us live to see us at least once. That’s where we get to showcase what we really want to do and what we think is cool.

Interviewer: In the past, the GazettE would often add surprise announcements at the end of live shows, making fans excited or surprised. But now, it seems like you’re aiming to go beyond those gimmicks, and instead, you’re focusing on the live performances themselves and the band as a whole.

Reita: Yeah, I guess in the end, that’s what being in a band is all about. Flashy performances or gimmicks—they’re just accents, really. As long as the five of us have a solid style together, and as long as we feel that what we’re doing is cool, the band will keep going. Even if we don’t gain any more fans, or even if the fans decrease. For that reason, we won’t do anything we don’t want to do—we’ll only do what we think is cool. We feel very strongly about only doing things that all five of us have agreed on, things we all genuinely think are good. Whether our live attendance goes up or down in the future, we’ll accept all of that. Maybe the reality of being in a band is that if you’re not wanted, you eventually disappear. But we don’t want to chase after whatever it is the fans want. First and foremost, we want to put out something that makes us, as band members, say to each other, ‘Yeah, that’s cool.’

Interviewer: Fans are definitely important, but it seems like what matters most is the connection between the band members.

Reita: Yeah, hearing one of the members say ‘that’s great’ when they listen to a phrase I came up with makes me the happiest. So I always want to keep putting that out there.

Interviewer: Understood. After hearing everything you’ve shared today, I really feel like you’re a "band man" through and through, from head to toe (laughs).

Reita: "Band man"—I like that (laughs). Actually, it’s always felt more fitting for me to be called a “band man” than to be called an “artist.”

Interviewer: Do you want to stay a “band man” forever?

Reita: Definitely. I don’t want to be called an artist, but I always want to be called a band man. Or rather... I just want to feel like I’m “just a band man.”

Interviewer: “Just a band man” has a nice ring to it. It’s almost like saying, “I’m just an ordinary person.”

Reita: Exactly. It’s like, even someone as regular as me can be a band man. If you go all in on trying to do something cool, you can end up doing things like playing at the Budokan. I get fan letters saying similar things, and I always think, “If I could make it, then pretty much anyone else can, right?”

Interviewer: Don’t you think fans look up to you because of that? Both the band and you, Reita.

Reita: If that’s the case, then that’s great. I mean, we’re all pretty easygoing guys, not really the wild or hardcore rock type (laughs). But we’re those same guys getting up on stage, playing intense music with intense makeup. I think that’s something really cool. Every member is completely different on stage compared to in everyday life. And I think that’s probably true for the fans as well. They’re usually quiet, not the type to headbang or scream loudly. But the GazettE’s live shows give them a place where they can do that. That’s something that saves us too, and if there are fans who find solace in it, then I want to keep standing on that stage for them.

Interviewer: What does your mom have to say about all of this?

Reita: (laughs) My mom? She goes around bragging about me to people at her work, I think (laughs).

Interviewer: Doesn’t she ever say things like, “I can’t believe you do that in front of people” (laughs)?

Reita: She does. Even my relatives say, “You’re like a different person!” and “Wow, I didn’t know you could be so loud!” (laughs).

Interviewer: (laughs)

Reita: That’s just how different I am on stage, you know (laughs). And that’s the beauty of being in a band.

Kai

Interviewer: First of all, what are your thoughts on an anniversary live show?

Kai: Well, I feel like an anniversary isn’t really something that we, ourselves, should be celebrating. In a way, it’s more a time for the fans to say, “Congratulations,” and for us to respond with a “Thank you.” To put it simply, March 10 is nothing more or less than just that; for me personally, it’s just a milestone in the band’s journey.

Interviewer: So, there’s no feeling of looking back and reliving the memories of the day you formed the band?

Kai: No, I don’t feel that way… (laughs). Instead of looking back, I want to keep moving forward. So even with this live show, just because it’s an anniversary live, we don’t intend for it to be just a show looking back on the past. In fact, last year we were pretty quiet in terms of public activity as the GazettE, so we want to make this show one where people can see the band moving forward and starting something new. Not just a “Thanks for everything up until now” kind of show.

Interviewer: By the way, last year the band focused on a fan club tour, which to an outsider might have seemed like you were underground or almost on hiatus.

Kai: From our perspective, we were actually very active (laughs), but I can see how it might have looked like we were at a standstill from the outside.

Interviewer: And you didn’t release anything either, right? Wasn’t there any worry about the band going through a year like that?

Kai: Not at all. It’s because we’ve always had a certain cycle—like releasing an album around July, then touring for about three months, and right after that, starting to create the next work… We’ve been doing that for a long time. But with that pace, there were things I felt I couldn’t fully absorb. I’ve had this feeling for a while now, that I didn’t want to just keep moving forward at that speed.

Interviewer: Was it like you felt you couldn’t keep up with the pace?

Kai: No, it wasn’t that. It was more a feeling that it was wasteful, in a way. It just felt like moving on to the next thing so quickly was a waste. This topic actually came up among the members about two years ago. We started to wonder if keeping up this pace might actually shorten the band’s lifespan. When I heard that, it really resonated with me. So, we thought about extending the time between releases. Instead of releasing an album every year, why not make it every year and a half or even two years, and let each work have a longer period to be absorbed?

Interviewer: And that would allow more time for creating the songs as well.

Kai: Exactly. But then, while we’d be taking our time to create the next work, there was the question of how to handle the parts we hadn’t yet fully processed. So we talked about doing a tour that would look back on our past work over the course of a year—a tour that would let us settle those things within ourselves. And when that idea came up, I thought, “Yes, that sounds really good.” That’s the mindset we had as we spent 2014. So I didn’t feel any anxiety about it at all. Rather, it felt like something we needed to do as a band.

Interviewer: After doing the fan club tour, how did it impact the band?

Kai: By looking back at what we had done in the past, it allowed us to think about what kind of band the GazettE truly is. The tour was a way to redefine ourselves, and we discovered a lot through it. We also started working on songs for the next album around that time. For example, before PULSE WRIGGLING TO DIM SCENE, we held a selection meeting for the songs, and then after PULSE WRIGGLING TO DIM SCENE and before GROAN OF VENOMOUS CELL, we did another one, and yet another after GROAN OF VENOMOUS CELL. Each time, everyone’s perspective had completely changed. Taking time for the tour in between allowed us to re-evaluate what kind of music we really wanted to create and what kind of songs we thought were truly good. In other words, we were different from who we were when we made the previous album two years ago—it felt like we had climbed to a new level. So for the Budokan concert, we want to show who we are now as a band that has climbed that new step and what lies ahead.

Interviewer: I see. Now, I’d like to ask about you personally. Last year, you engaged in activities that involved looking back on the past, comparing your past self with your present self, and I assume you noticed some differences.

Kai: Yes, after doing this for over ten years.

Interviewer: Originally, when the GazettE was formed, there was a previous drummer, and you joined later. I’d imagine that the relationships with the other members have changed quite a bit since you joined.

Kai: In terms of relationships… I feel like they actually haven’t changed much. Even in our conversations, we still talk about the same kinds of things, including all the silly stuff (laughs). We’ve always gotten along well. But if anything has really changed, it’s probably my own sense of commitment to the band.

Interviewer: In what way?

Kai: Back then, I think I was more focused on myself rather than on the band. I wasn’t really looking at the bigger picture. For example, if I heard that RUKI was doing a solo photo shoot for a magazine, I didn’t care at all—I was more focused on myself as an individual than on the band as a whole. But now, I feel a much stronger attachment to the band.

Interviewer: So, you’ve developed a sense that you’re part of something bigger than just yourself.

Kai: Exactly. And, to be honest, I think I probably felt that way back when I first started in a band. So, in a way, it feels like I’m returning to that original feeling.

Interviewer: Did you get into drumming because you were interested in bands in the first place?

Kai: Actually, I liked drums, but I didn’t really have much interest in bands at first. I’d get invited, but I’d turn them down, saying, “No, I’m not interested.” Then one day, someone asked me to fill in as a drummer just for one session because they didn’t have one, and the impact of playing that sound was huge. That’s when I awakened to the idea of being in a band, and that’s how I ended up here.

Interviewer: Was that impact so strong that it changed your world?

Kai: It really did change my world. By the next day, I had dropped out of school. (laughs) It had that much of an impact on me. Playing drums alone and being the drummer in a band are completely different experiences. So, the friends I went to the studio with were from my school, and I told them, “This is it for me—band life.” I even said, “Maybe I’ll quit school,” and they laughed it off like, “Oh, sure!” But I was pretty serious. The next day, when I showed up at the studio and said, “I quit school,” everyone was shocked (laughs).

Interviewer: I bet! (laughs)

Kai: I was shocked in return when they reacted with, “What?!” I thought, “Wait, these guys aren’t serious about the band?” So I decided to look for different members who were. I immediately started calling around to find new bandmates.

Interviewer: Very proactive!

Kai: Yeah. I had this confidence, like “If I do this seriously, we’ll make it.” When I first started in a band, I was completely absorbed in it. Carrying heavy drum equipment to the studio wasn’t a burden at all.

Interviewer: How did you feel when you first joined the GazettE?

Kai: At first, I felt like I was in a kind of battle with my predecessor. People around us kept comparing us. My predecessor had a lot of qualities that I didn’t, so my first year in the band was honestly pretty negative for me. Plus, I developed sudden hearing loss. Right after I joined, I had to skip a tour. So, for that tour, my predecessor was brought in last minute to fill in, and I’d hear people saying things like, “I still prefer the old drummer.”

Interviewer: That must have been humiliating.

Kai: The band members assured me that wasn’t how they felt, but I struggled with it internally. However, it’s because of those feelings that I think I developed my individuality as a drummer. Back then, I was really searching for something that only I could bring. For example, if I heard someone say that my predecessor’s playing had more flair, I’d think, “Okay, I’ll bring flair to my playing.” I’d study my form in the studio mirrors, trying to develop something unique. I aimed to be one-of-a-kind, and I think that’s still a part of me today.

Interviewer: But with those insecurities, it’s only natural that you’d be more focused on yourself than on the band as a whole, right?

Kai: True. So…maybe I was overly aware of being the member who joined later, or perhaps I was trying to only look forward and focus on the future. When I look back on the past, there’s that one-year gap where I wasn’t with them. It’s unavoidable, but sometimes it still crosses my mind.

Interviewer: When do you feel that way?

Kai: For example, if we’re planning to put together footage from our early days, I might think, “What about the first year?” I realize, “This footage doesn’t include me, but it’s part of the band’s history.” These days, it doesn’t bother me as much, though.

Interviewer: But even now, it still bothers you a bit?

Kai: This is something I’d like to say to the fans—I don’t really want people to say “Congratulations on joining the GazettE!” (laughs). Because I joined the band on February 1, which is RUKI’s birthday. So, fans sometimes say things like, “Happy Birthday, RUKI! And congratulations on joining, Kai!” (laughs). I’d rather they skip that second part.

Interviewer: So, the effort and research you put in over time led to your current playing style.

Kai: Yeah, exactly. My style gradually formed as the members would tell me, “That’s cool” or “I haven’t seen anyone else play like that.” Before joining the GazettE, I thought it was cooler to play drums in a low-key way—supporting the band from the back without standing out.

Interviewer: And then your mindset shifted toward making yourself stand out more?

Kai: Yes, that was my focus for the first few years.

Interviewer: Was it difficult to be in a band with that mindset?

Kai: It was. This might just be my personality, but even if I had something I wanted to do, I’m not the type to voice it easily. I always tried to take a step back and look at things from the band’s perspective as a whole, which made me reluctant to speak up about my own needs. It was like I was avoiding expressing my opinions.

Interviewer: Why did you avoid speaking up, even when you had things you wanted to say?

Kai: I worried that if I voiced my thoughts, others might laugh at me. Back then, I was very self-conscious, feeling like I couldn’t say what I wanted because of that one-year gap after I joined. It was like, “Can I really say that as the guy who joined later?” So, I often ended up suppressing my feelings.

Interviewer: Didn’t that make being in the band less enjoyable?

Kai: Looking back, it probably wasn’t that enjoyable. I was just avoiding conflict, really.

Interviewer: How long did that sense of insecurity last?

Kai: Hmm… I think I still felt that way when we performed at the Budokan for the first time. So probably… around five or six years.

Interviewer: That’s quite a long time.

Kai: Yeah… it was a long time.

Interviewer: Despite that, what kept you going without quitting?

Kai: It felt like I was being pulled along by something. Almost like the other members were pulling me up from above. I don’t know how they actually felt, but for me, it felt like that during those first five or six years.

Interviewer: During that time, you must have experienced and seen things that most bands don’t, right?

Kai: Yes, that was a period of very rapid growth.

Interviewer: Through those experiences, did you ever feel invincible or experience a sense of overwhelming satisfaction, like, “I’m unstoppable”?

Kai: Hmm... not really... Maybe I didn’t feel that way, even after achieving all that.

Interviewer: Even after all you accomplished?

Kai: Yeah… even after all we achieved, it somehow felt… like I was only experiencing it on the surface. Looking back now, I feel like I was just going through the motions with the band. I was just doing it superficially.

Interviewer: What do you mean by 'superficially'?

Kai: …Like, back in the day during our song selection meetings. When we were putting songs forward, I’d think, 'Oh well, [another member] will bring a good song.' Or when planning a stage performance, I’d assume, 'Someone else will come up with ideas.' And then for the lyrics, I'd think, 'RUKI wrote them, so he’ll handle the world-building. I’ll just play the drums.' If I could go back, I’d want to punch my younger self for thinking that way (laughs).

Interviewer: But, isn’t that kind of dynamic something that can still work in a band? Not saying if it’s good or bad, but it’s possible.

Kai: But that’s not love for the band, is it? It’s more like love for myself. I was avoiding responsibility, just not saying anything. But over time, I started realizing that wasn’t right. So now, I always speak up. In song meetings, I’m there with the mindset, 'I definitely want this song to make it through.' And if it doesn’t, then I feel genuinely frustrated. Just recently, I was super disappointed after a song selection meeting (laughs). I was so frustrated. But I think it’s essential to approach it like that. Some people might just give up at that point and say, 'Whatever, I’m done with this.' But for me, it’s the opposite. Even if it takes making 10 or 20 songs, I’m determined to get at least one in next time. That’s the kind of mindset I have now, and it’s definitely a change in my attitude. I’m not even entirely sure why I’ve changed, but I have.

Interviewer: For example, Tokyo Dome is a major milestone in the band’s history. How did you feel at that time?

Kai: The Dome? When we finally reached that goal, there was a brief feeling of emptiness. I had thought of it as the end point, the finish line. Up until then, the GazettE had always been focused on playing bigger and bigger venues. We filled the 1,000-capacity AX, and from there the ambitions just kept growing. We filled the 3,000-capacity venue, then Budokan, then Yokohama Arena. We had finally reached a point where Tokyo Dome was within sight, but we hadn’t thought about what came after that.

Interviewer: So it really did feel like the ultimate goal.

Kai: Yes. So when the Dome concert was over, there was a moment of emptiness, but then I realized, 'I wasn’t in a band just to play Tokyo Dome.' It wasn’t about venue size or capacity; it was about creating the most intense live experiences, enjoying the band, and making great music. It was such an obvious realization, but it lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.

Interviewer: Did it make being in a band easier?

Kai: Not exactly—it actually made me realize how much more I had to do, so in that sense, it’s challenging (laughs). But it was definitely a good realization for me.

Interviewer: Watching the Dome concert, I remember thinking, 'What’s next for this band?' (laughs).

Kai: I think everyone thought that at the time (laughs). The interviewers even said, 'We’re not sure what to ask after Tokyo Dome.' But right after it ended, all the members naturally started feeling, 'That wasn’t it.'

Interviewer: What do you mean by 'That wasn’t it'?

Kai: It’s like we realized, 'The GazettE is a band with more depth, and we used to have so much more fun.' I think as we got closer to reaching the Tokyo Dome goal, our focus started to drift. We were doing tie-ins just for sales, focusing on those kinds of things. And when we looked at what we actually gained from it all, we realized we hadn’t gained anything.

Interviewer: Even though you made it all the way to the Dome?

Kai: Yeah, even after playing the Dome, we felt that emptiness. But in a way, I think that was a good thing. It was like all the members suddenly rediscovered their love for the band (laughs). In fact, our desire to stay dedicated to the band just exploded from there.

Interviewer: I think that reaching the Dome is often a turning point for bands, and some go in the opposite direction—like there’s nothing left to achieve with the band.

Kai: Like they decide to go solo? (laughs)

Interviewer: Exactly. Sometimes bands start alternating between solo projects and band activities to keep things going. But The GazettE didn’t go that route.

Kai: Not at all. For me, the period up to Tokyo Dome feels like the first phase of The GazettE.

Interviewer: That was a pretty long first phase (laughs).

Kai: Yeah (laughs). But it’s true—the GazettE changed clearly after the Dome. It almost feels like we did that Dome show to transform ourselves. It was a turning point, and the band we are now emerged from that.

Interviewer: So this shift in the band, did it affect things like your relationships with the other members, or how you approach the band?

Kai: First, that feeling of 'That wasn’t it'—everyone felt the same way, without anyone needing to say it. We were all on the same page, and instead of giving up, everyone was committed to finding the next step as a band. I was really glad to be doing this with these members; it made me appreciate it all over again.

Interviewer: So you regained that love for the band through that experience?

Kai: Yeah, exactly.

Interviewer: I think this band has always been able to overcome walls and crises because the five of you share a common direction and perspective. But even so, not everyone in the band is equal, right?

Kai: Not equal… what do you mean?

Interviewer: For example, RUKI stands out in a unique way within the band. He’s someone with a lot of ideas, someone who wants to do a lot of things. Often, his vision pulls the band forward.

Kai: Yes, that’s definitely true.

Interviewer: It’s like what you mentioned before, how in the past you might have thought, 'RUKI will take care of it,' and the band could still function by just going along with his ideas. What do you think about that approach now?

Kai: I think it’s just a matter of whether you find that kind of band cool or not. In our case, I don’t think a single one of us would see that approach as 'cool.' We all want to be more involved and connected to the direction we’re going in.

Interviewer: With someone like RUKI in the band, there’s always the possibility it could naturally become more of a one-man show centered around him, don’t you think?

Kai: Hmm, well… yes, that’s a possibility. Even now, RUKI is leading the band, and it’s true that he’s the one pulling it forward. But I feel strongly that the 'reins' have to be held by all five of us. I think RUKI feels the same way—he wonders, 'Is it okay if I’m the only one leading?' It would probably be easier for RUKI if he just led everything by himself, coming up with ideas and having us follow along. But that’s not what he wants. He wants a band where each of the five of us stands out as a hero. He doesn’t want to be the only hero; he wants everyone to be a hero. And I feel strongly about supporting his vision.

Interviewer: I see. But don’t you think that’s a bit of a contradiction, or even an unattainable goal? For all five members to be 'heroes' means there has to be some ego, like 'I want to stand out.' But if that ego becomes too strong, it could end up hurting the love for the band.

Kai: Exactly. That’s what makes being in a band so challenging. Even if you voice your own opinions, sometimes they won’t be accepted. So there’s an effort to hold back, or the courage to step back. Not just retreating in defeat, but stepping back calmly and objectively, trying to view things from a balanced perspective. Comparing your own opinion with others and coming to a decision—that’s really important. And I think everyone in the band shares that sense.

Interviewer: But if you only do that, it might just turn into a group of overly agreeable people. You also need some selfishness, some clashing of opinions, or it’ll be hard for each of the five to truly shine.

Kai: Exactly… being in a band is tough. But I think that’s also what makes it fun now. When I feel disappointed because one of my songs wasn’t chosen in a selection meeting, that’s exactly the feeling I’m talking about. The frustration when a song I was sure would be chosen doesn’t make it—it’s that very feeling that drives me to say, 'Next time, I’ll create something even better.'

Interviewer: But don’t you sometimes feel like, 'Fine, then, let someone else handle it,' or, 'Let the ones who want to do it, do it'?

Kai: No, I don’t feel that way. In fact, I make sure I don’t. You can’t let that kind of thinking take over in a band. You can’t let yourself lose to those feelings; if you do, it’s probably the end.

Interviewer: Don’t you think it’s difficult to keep that kind of negative feeling under control, though? Like it’s easy for the lid on those emotions to come off?

Kai: Yes, that’s true… sometimes those feelings do start to show, and the lid begins to open. But now I have confidence that I can close it myself before it fully comes off.

Interviewer: Why do you think you’re able to do that?

Kai: I think it’s because people around me have expectations of me. In the past, nobody really expected much, but now the members, the fans, and even the staff—they all have hopes for me. I want to live up to those expectations. But… yeah, honestly, I think the biggest influence is the other members. They mean a lot to me.

Interviewer: So in other words, would you say that your perspective is shaped by how the people around you give you a sense of purpose?

Kai: Ah, yes. The band gives me purpose.

Interviewer: In other words, you don’t see yourself as the number one, right? Do you consider yourself an amazing person?

Kai: No, I don’t.

Interviewer: That’s a quick answer! (laughs)

Kai: (laughs) Yeah, I don’t think of myself as amazing. Are there people who really do?

Interviewer: If you’ve made it to the Tokyo Dome, I’d say you’d be allowed to think so.

Kai: Yeah… I guess that’s true. But I still don’t. I don’t see myself as amazing. I wonder why… (laughs). Maybe it’s just my nature?

Interviewer: That could be it. To be honest, and without meaning any offense, I feel like the GazettE is made up of genuinely nice people. (laughs)

Kai: (laughs) Yeah, they’re all good guys.

Interviewer: Actually, it’s like even though you’ve played at the Dome, you still have some sort of complex. You find yourself getting anxious or overthinking things that probably nobody else would even notice. But maybe that’s what keeps you grounded and reliant on the band.

Kai: I think you’re exactly right. I lean on the band, in a way. Each of us has something the others don’t, which is probably why we get along so well and can respect each other. We think each other is cool, and I can say with confidence that it’s not just me who feels this way—it’s all the members. So… this is a bit embarrassing to admit, but I think the other four also see something cool in me. They recognize and value what’s unique about me. I’m aware of that, and I want to meet those expectations. I’ve become able to voice what’s unique to me.

Interviewer: So, that’s why you don’t see yourself as amazing alone.

Kai: Exactly. I don’t think I’m some kind of special person. And I think all the members feel the same way.

Interviewer: But didn’t you start the band because you wanted to be special?

Kai: Yeah, I did. But now, I feel like it’s fine to be just an ordinary person. I still have that kid-like feeling—like when I saw LUNA SEA and thought, ‘I want to be like them.’ That feeling is stronger for me than anything like, ‘I’ve played at the Dome, so now I’m great.’ I don’t feel that way.

Interviewer: Bands are kind of mysterious, aren’t they?

Kai: They are, definitely. (laughs) If it were my younger self, I’d probably imagine that if I made it to the Dome, I’d have become someone special. But… people really don’t change that much. And… I still wonder at how much I’ve changed because of the people I’ve met.

Interviewer: How do you see yourself?

Kai: I’m not really sure myself, but I know there’s a part of me that doesn’t get swayed by others no matter what they say to me. Even when I’m talking to different people, I’ve realized that there aren’t many things I can genuinely empathize with. I tend to always put a sort of filter between myself and the other person. Someone once pointed this out to me. They said, “Kai, there’s this invisible wall around you.” I had never thought I was intentionally creating one, but when they said that, I became aware that I unconsciously put up this kind of filter within myself.

Interviewer: Maybe that’s because, deep down, you have a strong sense of self that you try to keep hidden.

Kai: Ah, you think so?

Interviewer: A strong sense of self often brings along strong complexes—things you can’t shake off easily. You want to overcome those, but you know you can’t do it alone. So, you need people around you, which also means wanting to listen to others and connect with different people.

Kai: Hmm... Right now, I feel kind of exposed. (laughs)

Interviewer: If we look at the real, 'uncovered' Kai, he’s probably pretty self-centered. But you’re in a band, and being self-centered wouldn’t work, especially with the complexes you’re carrying. You probably feel like the band has helped you pull yourself up this far.

Kai: You’re absolutely right.

Interviewer: So, you’re in the band, trying to shine both for the band’s sake and for yourself. It seems like that’s what’s happening.

Kai: Ah! That’s exactly it. You put it into words perfectly. I hadn’t thought of it that way until you said it, but I think I’ve always sensed it on some level. If I hadn’t recognized that, I don’t think I’d have felt the meaning in putting my ideas forward to the band. I may not have been this way in the past, but I am now.

Interviewer: It’s fascinating that people like you come together to focus on one thing and make it grow bigger and keep it going for so long. Don’t you feel that you get a lot of influence and inspiration from the people you’re doing this with?

Kai: That’s exactly why it’s a band. There are things that, on my own, I’d never be able to do, but with these five, we can make them happen, just like that. For instance, none of us felt any fear about not releasing anything last year. (laughs)

Interviewer: Normally, you’d think not releasing anything would make you lose popularity. (laughs)

Kai: Ah… (laughs).

Interviewer: But more than worrying about that, you have things you want to protect within the band. So, as long as you can do that, the future doesn’t scare you.

Kai: Yeah, exactly. I’ve also stopped paying attention to other bands lately. I used to worry a lot about what this band or that band was doing, but now… I don’t care at all. It’s more like, ‘Oh, that’s happening?’ and that’s it.

Interviewer: Maybe that’s because you have something important to hold on to now—a sense of certainty that keeps you grounded.

Kai: Definitely. I have complete confidence that the GazettE has something only we can bring to the table.

Interviewer: That’s a great band you’re in.

Kai: It really is. I feel lucky to be here, in this place.

Interviewer: That’s how you feel?

Kai: Yeah… It makes me feel like I’ve got to work even harder. (laughs)

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Scans cr: The Archive (rad-is-more) Translation: ChatGPT

#the gazette #interview translations #13th

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