#interview translations

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

DOGMA book: member interview translations

Interviewer: The keywords associated with "PROJECT: DARK AGE" and "THE OMINOUS YEAR," leading up to the release of "DOGMA," have all been gloomy, exuding a sense of despair rather than hope. Does this mean that the GazettE has been dwelling in darkness for a while?

Ruki: Rather than darkness...how should I put it? By the time the flow of time associated with our previous work "BEAUTIFUL DEFORMITY" had ended, we became aware of our standing and began thinking about what to do next. We weren't in the mood to create happy music (laughs), but we also weren't feeling gloomy. It was more like a sense of anger—a bundle of frustration. We are genuinely rebellious at heart, yet there were circumstances where we couldn't rebel, living as cogs in society.

Interviewer: You mean the absurdity of knowing that something is wrong but still having to comply with it?

Ruki: Exactly. As we continued our band activities, we encountered various people's thoughts—those of other bands and people from record companies. This made us reflect on how we should live. For instance, to achieve various successes, I had countless responsibilities and no time for leisure. My focus shifted more towards cramming in various tasks rather than having fun. But then, I'd wonder, "How does everyone else manage?" and consider if others might be neglecting such details. This made me realize that our meticulousness might actually be one of our strengths.

Interviewer: Even at the cost of sacrificing your own time?

Ruki: Instead of living a wealthy life with lots of money, it's more important for us to see how much we can dedicate to the band. Of course, this applies to when we are performing live as well, but it's crucial to show that we are betting everything on this lifestyle. I hate doing things half-heartedly. Even if we were a popular band performing in large stadiums, I'd still want to maintain an aggressive stance. Although I can't speak for the feelings of bands in that situation.

Interviewer: The opposite of aggressive is defensive. Do you have a sense of crisis about becoming complacent in your activities as your career progresses?

Ruki: There's a part of me that thinks we might eventually become more relaxed about these aspects. In that sense, I try not to think of myself as absolute. However, I do everything to feel that "we're the best!" and I don't want to spare any effort to achieve that. I don't know how others perceive it, but the image of the GazettE has grown significantly in my mind, and I have been thinking a lot about how to shape it in the future. Having time to think about it was very significant.

Interviewer: Indeed. In 2014, you were busy with a tour themed "redefinition," without releasing any new material.

Ruki: Having a whole year without a release was unusual. We were always moving forward and didn't have much time to look back. But during that tour, we could think about many things. There was a sense that when we released our next work, we had to come back changed. Therefore, we needed to think carefully about what we wanted to do and how we should be. Eventually, I realized that our core lies in live performances. The essence of our live shows is built upon something unique to us. While searching for that answer, I felt like we were seeking something akin to religiosity—not resembling any specific religion but perhaps related to the fervor of our fan unity.

Interviewer: Do you mean the degree of empathy and collective feeling beyond normal bounds?

Ruki: There might be some of that, but I also want to delve deeper into it. I wanted to redefine and present it anew. Even the sight of the audience during "Kantou Dogeza Kumiai" was extraordinary and special. So, instead of expanding into a gray zone or appealing to a broader general audience, we wanted to be unbeatable within our niche. But we don't intend to remain confined within the existing visual kei boundaries; we aim to elevate everything beyond that. That's one of our conclusions. We don't want to be lax about anything and strive to do everything thoroughly.

Interviewer: In other words, you want to be absolute and definitive.

Ruki: Yes. Rather than creating a religious-like world, we want an absolute feeling that also resonates with religious undertones. We have an absolute worldview that we believe in, and it involves attitudes and ideologies rather than just songs. We then present and share everything with our fans. That overlaps significantly with the word "dogma."

Interviewer: In the dictionary, it means doctrine or creed.

Ruki: I don't particularly love the word "dogma" itself. It's been used in many places before. But instead of being the first band to use the term, we wanted to be the band that expressed "dogma" most profoundly.

Interviewer: Using words like religion and doctrine requires a certain determination, doesn't it? If it were a real religion, the proponents would need to be gods or prophets, presenting something absolute for followers to believe in.

Ruki: We actually tried to create that. So, we're very confident in ourselves. Of course, we've always been confident, but this is more about a comprehensive confidence. The title "DOGMA" is very symbolic. And the pursuit of what we think "DOGMA" should be is not limited to just one CD. We planned to take our time to carry out various things associated with this album. At the same time, regarding the album's composition, we used to aim for a balanced inclusion of various elements, like "let's include this type of song" or "we need a song like this," but we decided to stop that. Previously, each album had at least one "good song," but for an album named "DOGMA," we decided not to include anything that didn't fit. Of course, it's not that there are no melodic or catchy elements at all...

Ruki: We have included songs with depth, but it's more like we deliberately set a 'rigidness' to it.

Interviewer: So, instead of maintaining balance within the work, you focused on thoroughly expressing the core element?

Ruki: Yes. There's always a balance in our live performances, like having a song come in at a certain point, or placing a specific type of song before another. We started by breaking away from that.

Interviewer: And when it came to embodying "this is what the GazettE is," anger and darkness were indeed essential elements?

Ruki: In reality, part of the reason we started doing this was because we were drawn to emotions like anger. Somehow, I don't have the option in myself to turn happy things or enjoyable things into songs. Of course, if something makes me happy, my heart moves, but it's not a deep emotional movement, you know? You don't stay joyful for days over one thing. Instead, anger, fear of the current world, and anxiety tend to root themselves deeply and linger. As these emotions amplify, they naturally emerge in the music, not because I consciously decided to push them to the forefront, but because it just naturally turned out that way.

Interviewer: There are tragic incidents and accidents occurring daily. Some of your lyrics seem inspired by such realities.

Ruki: Yes. For example, juvenile crime. Apparently, juvenile crime itself is relatively declining. However, regardless of that, there's a part of me that can't help but be concerned about things like the relationship between victims and perpetrators, or the incidents where family members are affected afterwards... Even though such aspects aren't often highlighted on TV, they catch my attention. Even in cases where there should absolutely be severe punishment, there are perpetrators who manage to evade responsibility, or there are systems in society that allow such things to happen... Such contradictions and hidden aspects move me emotionally because there are likely feelings involved that I can't even imagine.

Interviewer: Because you can't imagine them, you want to understand them?

Ruki: Yes. I want to express that depth of emotion through sound and words. It's not about the incident or the emotion itself, but the depth of it. Therefore, I'm not singing about specific incidents directly. While I can't understand the sadness faced by those affected, imagining it happening to me makes me want to express that depth of emotion and translate it into music.

Interviewer: And the fact that such incidents don't stop means it could happen to anyone, including yourself.

Ruki: Exactly. It can happen to anyone. Everyone must think, "It would be great if these things didn't happen, but they don't stop."

Interviewer: Indeed, those lingering feelings are easier to use as a starting point for expression compared to joy or pleasure.

Ruki: We rarely feel joy so intense it's hard to imagine in our lives. Such feelings are often momentarily released and don't go beyond that. On the opposite, anger and sadness that can't be directed anywhere are feelings everyone tries to hide. You can't burst into tears on the spot, and crying doesn't necessarily make you feel better.

Interviewer: Similarly, even if you harbor feelings of intense anger, you can't go around breaking things or shouting loudly.

Ruki: That's right. The anger towards the perpetrator or the criminal is not something trivial. For example, if my son were killed by a juvenile, I can't even imagine what kind of feelings I'd have.

I think there would be a feeling of needing to kill the perpetrator myself to feel satisfied. Even if that meant breaking the law, the feeling of needing to take matters into my own hands. However, while I might desperately want to kill the criminal in my heart, that's not something allowed for a human. Therefore, these dark feelings have to be hidden and can't be shared with anyone. Unless they're expressed through a song.

In short, that's what it is. For example, I don't think it's appropriate to write about such feelings on Twitter. I'm not trying to share those feelings with others; instead, from my position, I wanted to express those dark feelings through lyrics and sound. And by doing so, I can also expel the murkiness within myself. It's similar to how someone who writes novels might feel. For instance, I have my own thoughts on politics, but I'm not deeply knowledgeable about it, so I don't think it would be right to write about it half-heartedly on Twitter or a blog. Rather, I have a lot of things I want to say that wouldn't fit in such places.

Interviewer: RUKI-san's lyrics aren't explicitly advocating any particular ideology; sometimes it's about the world of imagery. However, that's where those emotions are being expelled, right?

Ruki: That's right. However, it depends on the theme as well. For example, if the theme of a song's lyrics is love. But love isn't tangible. When you try to write about it, it inevitably becomes abstract. If it's limited to the feeling of liking someone, it might become a bit more concrete, but I feel like there's nothing for me to write about such intangible things. As for anger, it's better not to have such feelings. I don't want to evoke a chain of negative events, and I don't wish for such things to happen around me. But anger doesn't go away, and I find myself feeling it more and more each year.

Interviewer: As a result, fans who listen to your music might find some form of healing through those expressions.

Ruki: I wonder about that. Many of our fans are quite enthusiastic. At our live shows, some don't even look at the stage and just headbang (laughs). That's fine. I'm not the type to shout, "Look at us!" during live performances. Rather, I prefer for the atmosphere to be filled with our worldview. For example, if someone releases their stress by going wild at our concerts, that's fine with me. Of course, I have things I want to convey too. But each fan has their own story. We don't know what emotions they bring with them to our concerts. But I think there's something in my emotions that resonates with each of them. I've only recently started thinking this way. Until a while ago, I thought it was enough to just keep the anger and such feelings within myself. As long as I felt my thinking wasn't wrong, that was enough.

Interviewer: It's not about being right by societal standards, but understanding that they are not wrong as your own feelings, right?

Ruki: Exactly. It might not be correct if you take a majority vote, but these are my feelings. So putting those feelings into lyrics is actually quite a forceful imposition.

Interviewer: It's not a question of "Isn't it like this?" It's more of a definitive statement, like words in a sacred text.

Ruki: That's right. It's because it's absolute. So it's not about "There are various ways of thinking." For me, this is the definitive answer. I'm not saying, "You should feel the same," but rather, "This is how it is for me."

Interviewer: So it's a one-way expression. But if it gathers enough empathy, it could even form a kind of religion.

Ruki: Yes, that's right.

Interviewer: So I'd like to ask again, in the end, what is the most important thing for the GazettE to be the GazettE?

Ruki: That's... it's really difficult to answer clearly... For example, right now, I don't find many bands that I think are cool. I don't mean that in a bad way. Of course, there are many people I respect. But the ideal band I envision, which includes not just the music but also things like the quality of the visuals and the way they dress, those elements combined, that's what I wanted to pursue, which led to the "PROJECT: DARK AGE" approach.

Interviewer: You don't want to idealize someone from the past, you have to create your own ideal form.

Ruki: That's right. I don't want to seek ideals in the past, and I want to focus on what visual kei really means. Visual kei isn't just about looks; it's about the mindset. When I first discovered LUNA SEA, I was drawn to those aspects and felt the "now" of that era in their band style. Moreover, they definitely expressed darkness. That impression was vivid for me, and that's what visual kei means to me. But I don't think we should cling to those past ideals in 2015. Honestly, until recently, I was probably trapped by that. I was trying to preserve the old-school visual kei within myself.

Interviewer: To inherit, deepen, and pass it on to the next generation?

Ruki: Yes. But I felt that I had to devour the visual kei of the past in order to be satisfied within myself. Therefore, I had a strong feeling of embodying the world view and pursuing quality that I hadn't been able to fully realize before. As a result, if you ask whether what we created falls within the bounds of visual kei, it might not. But by embodying those ideals and becoming such a presence ourselves, I felt we might find a unique position. Thinking about why so many people come to see us, I felt the answer was there. There's a traditional idea of what visual kei is supposed to be. For me, that's also the standard. When you think of visual kei, there's an image. But we can't remain kids chasing that image forever. This realization hit me while we were on the "Redefinition" tour.

Interviewer: So the pursuit of ideals so far was based on the classic model of the past. But now, you have to create your own ideal path and present yourselves to the generations who don't know your past. You can't stay in an old, balanced, or vague state.

Ruki: That's right. And it's not about wanting to be popular with younger audiences. We want to emphasize "now" in our own way and proceed with everything based on that. I think that's what we should be doing. We don't want to stop evolving. We're not trying to revitalize the visual kei industry. It's not about that; we want to be individuals. We want to maintain a stance of not blending in. We want to continue evolving without forgetting the respect we have for those who influenced us. Only by being like that can we be a truly current band. The goal is not to uplift this genre of music for the world. Instead, we want to become an indispensable and absolute presence for those who need us.

Interviewer: The GazettE might still be visual kei, but the motivation for being visual kei has changed.

Ruki: For me, it has. My feelings have changed. We're not focusing on continuing as visual kei. Ultimately, it started from wanting to be cool. Looking around, I don't see any bands that I think are cool, so it would be strange to try to blend in. So, we decided to seek our ideals as individuals. Also, when our fans show someone our music and say they like visual kei, I don't want the reaction to be "Wow." Are they still doing this in this era?" For example, and it's an extreme example, but if you compare us to Taylor Swift, I don't want there to be an obvious gap.

Our English lyrics are done by someone in London, and they say that over there, bands need to be unique to be recognized. If the quality and message of a band aren't apparent, there's no place for them. If it's clearly felt that our level is lower, everything will be dismissed as inferior. So we decided to go all out with "PROJECT: DARK AGE," creating something we could be confident in.

Interviewer: So you wanted to present a team that could compete with the world?

Ruki: Yes. Over there, each individual stands out. In Japan, mastering engineers are seen as behind-the-scenes, but in America, names like Ted Jensen are well-known. We work surrounded by people who are on par with them, and we want to show that. Whether we're the best intermediary for that is uncertain, but that's what we wanted to convey.

Interviewer: On the other hand, even if you have a reliable team, if the work itself is mediocre or vague, it means nothing. So, creating something absolute and pushing yourselves to the limit was crucial.

Ruki: Yes. As a result, it became our strength. When a band tries to move forward, obstacles sometimes come from unrelated places. But each time that happened, our rebellious spirit grew, making us want to speed up even more. We need to reach a place where those obstacles are no longer a concern.

Interviewer: The title of your work "DOGMA" is quite striking. How did you feel when you first heard it?

Uruha: I simply thought it was cool. First of all, the sound of the word is good. Simple and impactful words have mostly already been used, right? Although the word "dogma" itself has already been used in many places, we hadn't used it before. The sound of this word links well with musical expression. If we use this title, the work inevitably has a darker tone. That aligns with our strengths. So, from the start, I thought it was a great idea.

Interviewer: It's a word that means creed, doctrine, or principle. Having it as a title implies that the work embodies your essence or what you've always had, rather than exploring unknown music.

Uruha: Yes. The darkness typical of visual kei that we've always pursued is part of it, but expressing the creation of a new religion is something we hadn't tackled before. So, it seemed interesting. Combining religious elements with visual kei. For example, there are quite a few visual kei bands that use Christian imagery as a motif. Instead of an existing religion, creating a brand-new one ourselves has a certain freedom. There are no constraints. If we were to be conscious of an existing religion, there would be limitations and difficulties, but if we create it ourselves, nothing gets in the way.

Interviewer: Indeed. When you describe a work as having a "religious feel," people might think of pipe organ sounds or hymn-like elements. But that's not the case here. Rather, it's an album that redefines what the GazettE is all about.

Uruha: Yes. It's like looking at ourselves from a bird's eye view. It's like, "Yeah, this is who we are." Even at our live shows, there are elements that seem religious. All the fans moving in unison with the music. Sometimes we feel, "You don't have to move like that," or "You could be more free." We feel a bit conflicted about it, but ultimately, we have to accept that this is our way. We think, "Let's present it in a cool way." So, choosing a "religious" presentation was one of the options to make it really cool.

Interviewer: Do you personally follow any religion?

Uruha: No, I don't.

Interviewer: For people who are overly devoted to religion, it can sometimes seem dangerous. We all remember incidents related to new religious movements. For the followers, it's sacred and worship-worthy, but for others, it can appear strange or dirty. Didn't you feel any danger in presenting things in a religious manner?

Uruha: Rather than those real aspects, it’s more about my own perspective since I don't really know much about religion. For example, "Why do so many people gather for this?" It's the pulling power of the sect or the leader. That power to attract people is something we want to have and show during our live performances. Without it, any band would be hopeless.

Interviewer: So, the idea was to create your own religion to strengthen that attraction?

Uruha: Yes. No matter how seriously you pursue music, it's essentially the same thing. It's establishing a religious group and seeing how many people follow it. Even starting a fan club is similar. Recruiting members is like a religion. The only difference is whether music is at the core.

Interviewer: So, there's no need to overreact to the word "religion"?

Uruha: Exactly. We're not trying to present any doctrines or teachings (laughs). If there's anything close to that, it would be something like, "You should vent your daily life stress at our live performances!" (laughs). That's really all there is to it. So, the interpretation of the album is up to the listeners. How they perceive each song is up to them. What's more important is the tour. We’ll be touring with this concept, and the key is how many people we can attract and how much we can entertain them. That's everything.

Interviewer: It also means drawing people in more deeply, right?

Uruha: Yes. Just like followers of a religion go through what they call training, producing adrenaline in the process. In a different form, but fundamentally similar. So, when people are going wild at our shows, it might look like training from an outsider's perspective.

Interviewer: I see. It feels like this work and concept will be crucial for the band to aim higher and continue for a long time. What do you think is the most important thing the band must not lose?

Uruha: The things we mustn't lose... there are many. Too many to count. The most important would be the parts that drive us. If we lose our passion, it would be like having our engine taken out of a car. Trust and relationships with those around us are also crucial. If our connection with the fans breaks, that would be really bad. So, there are many things we must not lose.

Interviewer: What do you think is necessary for the GazettE to continue being the GazettE?

Uruha: What could it be? Probably freedom. The freedom to come up with ideas and pursue different concepts is because of the environment we have. Without that environment, we wouldn’t be able to do anything. So, the most important thing might be freedom.

Interviewer: It's interesting that having an environment where you can think freely allowed you to create something very focused.

Uruha: Yes. Because we have that freedom, we could create this. Trying to do everything at once wouldn't work. Freedom allowed us to create a tightly focused world.

Uruha: But this way of thinking has only recently come about. During the previous album, the freedom we had was more in the ordinary sense. Our use of freedom was different. Realizing that change is part of the flow from the last work to this one.

Interviewer: "DOGMA" isn't a balanced album in the usual sense. It's not a collection of diverse songs with a good balance. Instead, you could say that every song is intense and dark from start to finish. Why were you able to create something like this without hesitation?

Uruha: That's probably because our ideals have changed. When we made the previous album, our ideal was to create a well-balanced work with various elements. But after doing that, we realized that it left an empty space. Noticing that gap led to the next ideal. Ideals aren't singular. If you only have one ideal, you'll end up doing the same thing repeatedly.

Interviewer: Continuously refining the same thing can be beautiful...

Uruha: Yes, if that's truly their ideal. But for the GazettE, I don't think that's the case. We're always looking for gaps, something missing. So, after finishing one thing, we always come up with the next thing we want to do. This momentum and constant change is what drives the band.

Interviewer: So, if people were to say, "How was the new album?" and the answer is, "It's the same as before," that would be a crisis.

Uruha: That would be quite bad. However, it's fine for other bands to stay the same. I don't demand change from bands I like. I want them to stay the same. But we don’t want to keep doing the same thing ourselves (laughs).

Interviewer: That’s quite contrary (laughs). As a listener, you listen to what you want to hear. But as a creator, it’s different.

Uruha: Yes. There's definitely a difference between my creator self and listener self. It may seem contradictory, but both coexist within me. Just creating what my listener self wants to hear doesn’t satisfy my creator self.

Interviewer: You mentioned changing ideals. It makes sense that reactions and reflections on the previous work lead to changes. So, after "DOGMA," will you find another gap?

Uruha: Probably. With "PROJECT: DARK AGE," we’ve put in an unprecedented amount of effort, so the reaction might be significant (laughs). I'm sure there will be moments when we think, "I don't want to do intense songs anymore." I can already see that reaction coming. And since we will continue with this concept for a while, we’ll likely feel fed up with it and be thorough to the point of exhaustion (laughs).

Interviewer: I don’t completely understand your future plans yet, but it seems like it won’t just be one album and a tour. You’re planning to take more time and be thorough.

Interviewer: What led you to this idea?

Uruha: As I said earlier, we’re seeking an attraction. We felt that we needed to have the momentum to turn everyone into believers. Looking back, we thought our previous works had a weak pull. We realized that if the work itself didn’t draw people in, it was pointless. We needed to attract our core audience more deeply. And even though we call them the core audience, we wondered if they all truly felt as passionately as we thought. That’s why we felt the need to draw them in thoroughly, at least once. To do that, we needed a concept that could captivate even ourselves. The word “dogma” had the power to do that. It had something that stirred the heart, which was crucial.

Interviewer: So, the word "dogma" didn't just pop up suddenly, but it came about naturally because you wanted to increase your attraction and become a definitive presence?

Uruha: Exactly. It’s a word with a sound we like and we thought the fans would like it too. We were searching for a word that could reach those sensitive spots, and we came across this word. It wasn’t just a word we liked; it also pointed to something we needed at the time. Everyone who likes visual kei gathered because of that. The band members, the fans, there’s a commonality among us. With “DOGMA,” we want to pull those who gather around the GazettE even deeper. We want to draw them in even more intensely than just within the circle of the GazettE. We want them to get to the core.

Interviewer: Does that mean that music alone isn’t enough to achieve this?

Uruha: Of course, music is the foundation. It must be compelling enough to draw people in on its own. Even before the artwork and accompanying elements were decided, the idea of releasing an album called "DOGMA," which seemed intense, already excited me. At that point, I had already cleared my own hurdle. So, I had high expectations. If it’s something I can look forward to, I’m sure the fans will follow. We have to believe in that. If it’s not accepted, then our tastes must be different...

Interviewer: Yes. it would be disappointing, wouldn't it?

Uruha: Yes. But I think it’s good to clarify any ambiguity. By reaffirming what our music is about, the fans will understand the band better. I believe that will be the result.

Interviewer: You want to deepen the relationship with the fans to the point where it could almost be called religious.

Uruha: Yes. To put it simply, I want to make them unable to escape. Not just strengthening the bond.

Interviewer: And as you mentioned earlier, this is definitely at the core of the GazettE in 2015, however, this doesn't mean it will continue like this musically forever.

Uruha: I think so. It depends on the reaction we get after this album is released and after the tour. It will depend on the reaction within ourselves during that time too. It will determine where we go next. Right now, it's still too early to say.

Uruha: I don't really want to think about it. Right now, I’m focusing completely on this, and when I’m entirely focused, the next reaction should naturally emerge. In the past, I thought I had to see several years into the future. But that can make the present feel insubstantial. While the future is important, I want to focus on the amazing concept in front of us now. We can't go back to who we were at that time. For example, a work is like a child; if I had a child, their early years would never come again. That’s why I want to be fully present at that moment. I think it’s the same thing.

Interviewer: Thinking about the future doesn’t necessarily open the path ahead.

Uruha: I think there's a way to move forward like that, of course. However, I've come to think that focusing on the present will connect to the future better.

Interviewer: Even if you try to think about the future...

Uruha: It doesn’t go as planned (laughs).

Interviewer: Even if you make a plan, it doesn’t go accordingly. But the reason you tried to plan was because of anxiety, right?

Uruha: That might be part of it. I was thinking about how to keep going. Like, since we came this far, what’s next, or considering the state of the world. But looking back, those events don’t end up being that meaningful. Taking that stance can make time pass by unremarkably. I think it’s more important to create something big and focus on it. To tackle each moment as it comes.

Interviewer: And by focusing on the present, some kind of reaction is always born, revealing the next step. It seems that now you can focus on the present because you've gained a solid sense of identity and the anxiety has disappeared.

Uruha: Yes. Simply put, it’s because “I’m interested in this now.” The flow of time up to this point has been important. The “redefinition” tour had a huge impact. That year was significant. From the outside, people might have wondered about it.

Interviewer: Like, “Are you on hiatus?”

Uruha: That was one reaction. People also probably said, “Release a CD!” But having a year without releases was important. At that time, we were convinced that we needed a break.

Interviewer: If you’re stuck in the routine of releasing an album and touring every year, the band might burn out. Taking time off can reveal things you hadn’t seen before. Through the “redefinition” process, you re-experienced your past chronologically and confirmed that your history was a series of reactions.

Uruha: Yes. We needed to review what the GazettE is and take time to think. Everyone has times when they need a break. Continuing in the same cycle indefinitely isn't normal. It was important for people to understand that we’re human.

Interviewer: This ties into whether music alone is enough. Will the band continue to be visual kei in the future?

Uruha: I think so (laughs). Not because we’re bound by it, but because we like it. We don’t see ourselves as fitting into a category; we just like visual kei and it’s ingrained in us. We use visual kei methods and nuances to realize our ideals. After being in visual kei for so long, we don’t even think of ourselves as playing visual kei music anymore. It doesn’t matter. We do things that don’t seem visual kei naturally. We initially sought that when we started the band, but over time, we’ve experimented with different genres. How people categorize us doesn’t matter anymore.

Interviewer: The ideal stance is that categories don’t matter and aren’t necessary. The band isn’t trying to be visual kei; rather, when the GazettE does what it does best, visual elements and methods are indispensable, right?

Uruha: Yes. So, when people say, “You have visual kei elements,” I don’t deny it. “Oh, really? That shows?” (laughs). But we’re not doing visual kei. There’s no resistance to it, but that’s not the point. I want people to understand that we’re not trying to compete within that framework.

Interviewer: That sentiment must be reflected in this work, too.

Uruha: Yes. What we should create and wanted to create is exactly this. But it doesn’t mean we’ll stay the same forever. While we may not have infinite time, we’ll decide together on the next direction and run towards it. And it feels really freeing.

Interviewer: It’s because of that freedom that you can go deeper. It’s not that this was the only thing you could create, but you chose this among infinite possibilities. That’s important.

Uruha: That’s crucial. No doubt.

Interviewer: The birth of the title “DOGMA” was inevitable, and without it, this work wouldn’t exist.

Uruha: Yes. In reality, it’s about fitting the word and concept to what we wanted to do. It’s not that we had a theme first and created around it, but rather what we wanted to do came first. Then we thought, “What word expresses this?” and that’s how we arrived at the title.

Interviewer: Even if you had thought of the word “dogma” between the previous albums, you were in a period of wanting to create new music and try unknown methods. So, it wouldn’t have been the title then.

Uruha: Yes. If we had finished the previous album and come up with this word, we might have chosen it. But if it had come up before making the previous album, it would’ve been rejected. It really appeared at the right time. I think everything had that kind of inevitability.

Interviewer: It’s often said that a name represents its essence, and I think the same can be said about the album "DOGMA." What kind of image did you have of this title, Aoi-san?

Aoi: You mean as a word, right? At first, I wondered, “What is 'dogma'?” The word itself didn’t feel very real to me. It wasn’t completely disconnected from the band’s image, but it also wasn’t straightforward. It didn’t quite fit comfortably anywhere. Also, while the word was new to us, it had been used in many contexts before.

Interviewer: It's been quite commonly used in the visual kei scene, hasn't it?

Aoi: Yes, exactly. So, initially, I didn’t have a great impression of it. I wondered, “Why use this word now?” There was that feeling. In our past works, we've often embraced somewhat impersonal or coined terms, and this word "dogma" appeared suddenly, with a worldview that seemed too fixed. At first, it was difficult to grasp how to approach it.

Interviewer: The previous two albums had a clear concept in terms of how the music was made, right? But with the word “dogma,” it’s hard to see a specific method or theme.

Aoi: It’s paradoxical. It’s both too clear and too elusive at the same time.

Interviewer: The word has a grandiose feel. Did it feel strange to use such a religious-sounding word now?

Aoi: Yes, but in our discussions, it became clear that it represented an absolute thing for us, something fundamental to the GazettE. Once we understood that, it started to feel doable. Simply creating songs that respond to the word “dogma” wouldn’t have worked. But if it’s about our absolute essence, then we could work with that.

Interviewer: Your own absolute essence. That wouldn’t mean creating completely different music, but rather, focusing on what you’re best at, right?

Aoi: Yes. When we thought of it that way, we started to see the final form of the album. It felt more intense, like there weren’t many sweet elements. We’re not sure how it will affect listeners, but if we believe in it absolutely, then that result is fine. In the past, we might have thought we needed a ballad or a more familiar song. But for this, we didn’t worry about that.

Interviewer: Usually, when striving for an ideal album, you tend to think about the balance of the songs.

Aoi: If we had focused on that balance, it wouldn’t have turned out this way. In that sense, it’s not a balanced album. But making it as “DOGMA” naturally led to this. We couldn’t imagine it any other way. We created many songs and carefully selected from them, which led to this result. This is what we wanted to showcase, with absolute confidence.

Interviewer: That’s an interesting point. Normally, when selecting from many songs, you avoid ones that overlap in impression. But in this case, all the songs feel dark, like they’re all black in color. It’s hard to describe each track individually because many are expressed in similar terms.

Aoi: Exactly. There were times when it felt a bit scary. But if you don’t believe in yourselves, it can’t become something absolute. Making an album without worrying about balance is inherently scary. We want to be liked rather than disliked, naturally. There was a fear that it wouldn’t be accepted, but as a work, it’s better not to have regrets. If we had added pop songs or ballads for balance, we might have regretted it.

Interviewer: So, if you had aimed to write universally good or heart-touching songs, it wouldn’t have turned out this way. But perhaps that’s why it’s good.

Aoi: Yes, the starting point wasn’t to write universally acclaimed songs. It was simply about what we wanted people to hear. Even if it’s not accepted, we have no regrets. Otherwise, we couldn’t have titled it “DOGMA.” It’s a risky title because it asserts our doctrine. If something isn’t included here, it’s not part of the GazettE’s core path.

Interviewer: It’s true. This title indicates that what’s included here is essential to the band. If it’s not included, it suggests it’s not part of the GazettE’s core.

Aoi: Exactly. But right now, this is what we wanted to release. We don’t have more to show for “DOGMA” at this moment. There’s more to come in the future, but for the first release in this series, this form is the only one we could think of.

Interviewer: What led you to the decision to focus on your core essence so thoroughly here?

Aoi: It’s hard to say. It’s a flow from the previous two works. There’s a part of us testing ourselves within that flow. It felt like a challenge to see how far we could go with the GazettE. If we were going to go that far, it made sense to establish our absolutes. That’s my interpretation. Others in the band might have different thoughts, maybe they just thought “dogma” sounded cool (laughs). But that’s how I took it.

Interviewer: In the past, you’ve deliberately tried different approaches, even in the last two albums. You’ll probably continue exploring new areas in the future. But it seems you needed to reaffirm and shape your core essence now.

Aoi: I think so too. The band has been around for over ten years, and to continue working together in the future, this was a necessary step.

Aoi: If it’s not intense, I can’t feel a reason to do it. But, I think that after we create something like “DOGMA,” then when we think about creating something in the future, our vision will become clearer.

Interviewer: So to put it bluntly, it’s like creating a noun again, it becomes a work that says "this is the kind of band we are," right?

Aoi: Yeah. Ultimately, over these 13 years, there were times when I didn’t quite understand RUKI's symbolic part of the band, but reaching this point now feels significant. For example, in past interviews, I’ve said things like, “I don’t really understand this music.” During that time, I tried to understand the songs more deeply. That’s probably why we were able to create this album.

Interviewer: Even if a song didn’t align with your own tastes, you believed it would add value to the whole, or it was necessary for where you were heading in the future, right?

Aoi: Yes, that's right. So... RUKI doesn't really explain everything, so we have to find answers ourselves... Whether those answers are correct or not is uncertain, but we need to show a proactive stance. If we don’t, we might not really be a band anymore. We do get asked, “What do you want to do?” and we have to maintain a sense of being a band.

Interviewer: What it means to be a band can differ. It’s not necessarily about everyone always having intense communication and unified intentions. In the case of this band, there are a lot of elements like the band’s worldview and aesthetics that RUKI transmits, right? And the chemistry that happens around that defines your band’s essence.

Aoi: I want to believe that too. Honestly, there were times when I felt like it was just about his opinions. That was just my perspective. At such times, the members don’t talk more than necessary to each other, but if you try to understand, the other person responds. It's that kind of feeling. Such a flow comes around, and that’s how we got here.

Interviewer: I also feel that "DOGMA" will become a standard to measure various things against in the future.

Aoi: Indeed. Saying that might be interpreted as a return to roots, but it’s completely different. It’s not about going back to our roots. It’s still about the present and, probably the future too. RUKI remains the core of the GazettE. But no one really understands what’s in RUKI's head (laughs), and I honestly don’t know how we’ll progress from here. However, if we can branch out from that core, that’s the essence of the GazettE. Our way of creating works might change. But no matter what happens, it will still be the GazettE. That’s what I believe now. In a good sense, of course.

Interviewer: When you say “it will still be the GazettE,” it could be taken as meaning that you can’t become anything else, but that’s not the case. It means that no matter how things turn, it will still be the GazettE, right?

Aoi: Yes. That’s how I feel about it.

Interviewer: So, what do you think are the essential elements for the GazettE to continue being the GazettE? I’m sure it’s not just one or two things.

Aoi: Hmm. There was a time when I was quite self-deprecating (laughs), but that period is essential to my current self. Ultimately, it’s about these five members, no matter what. Even if one person seems outstanding and I feel envious of that, or if there used to be such feelings. Even though there were times when I saw someone standing out who wasn’t very visible from the outside, there must have been a part that was always sought after, and yet at that time, I didn't try to see that reality. So, after all, it’s important to keep in mind that "this person doesn't really want to do it solo, do they?" and that it's really the GazettE with these five people, and it’s important for mutual trust to exist, or it just won’t work. Otherwise, I don’t think we can make anything decent. Even now, in this situation, when we were making "DOGMA," we talked a lot. Yes, it's no good if there’s someone who's a bit self-deprecating (laughs). But I think if there hadn’t been such a time, I wouldn’t have been able to think the way I do now.

Interviewer: Everyone experiences different degrees of self-deprecation, and whether it’s visible or not, it’s something that’s always there. After more than 10 years as a band, it’s natural to have such phases. Those “valleys” allow you to climb the next “mountains,” so to speak.

Aoi: You’re absolutely right (laughs). That’s something we shouldn’t lose. It’s about not giving up. Even if it doesn’t feel right for you personally, you push through until the final moment of fixing it. Without that mindset, it’s disrespectful to the other members. That’s what we’re working on now. It’s important not to give up.

Interviewer: Not giving up. Essentially believing in yourselves but being wary of overconfidence?

Aoi: Yes, exactly.

Interviewer: Moreover, while believing in yourselves, your band is not completely closed off to outside influences. The existence of “PROJECT: DARK AGE” symbolizes that.

Aoi: Exactly. While we take the initiative in creating our works, especially regarding sound, it’s not something we do alone. It becomes a project for everyone involved. We need people who can resonate with that. That’s what makes a work complete. Only with people who can elevate each other can we create something meaningful. However, with “PROJECT: DARK AGE,” I did feel like we gathered a bunch of strong personalities (laughs).

Interviewer: Another essential element for the band’s existence and continuity is the fans. What do you want from them? Just your current thoughts.

Aoi: What is it? I don’t want them to take everything we present as absolute. Even though we’re putting out something we consider absolute, I don’t want them to have a one-track interpretation.

Aoi: Even if they don’t take everything we put out as absolute, that might actually be a good thing. I think it’s fine if our fans also check out other bands, and view us with a flexible mindset. For example, even if they think, “What are these guys doing now?” I just want them to enjoy it. It’s not like we’re saying, “We’re presenting this, so you must accept it in a certain way.”

Interviewer: "DOGMA" is a sacred text, an absolute thing. It has a somewhat religious aspect. In that sense, it could be seen as the band being the leaders and the fans being followers. However, you want to leave the interpretation of that sacred text up to the fans, right?

Aoi: Exactly. Personally, I see it as a set of principles for me to continue being part of the GazettE. That’s how I interpret it, and it feels right to me. I think it’s great if everyone listens, watches, and engages with it in their own way and develops their own interpretation of the GazettE. So, it’s not like we’re saying, “This is the answer from the five of us to you.”

Interviewer: It’s more like a set of conditions, rather than an answer.

Aoi: Yes, and it’s not like if you don’t meet these conditions, you can’t be a fan of the GazettE. At least, that’s not my perspective.

Interviewer: But, like a devoted follower memorizing a sacred text, it would be ideal if fans get deeply engrossed in this album and try to fully understand it.

Aoi: Of course. Personally, I consider it my absolute truth. It’s very gratifying if there are people who feel the same way. In that sense, it is somewhat religious. Even though I am not religious at all.

Interviewer: What is your image of religion?

Aoi: There are those who show something, and there are those who accept it... It's that kind of thing, isn't it? Certainly, I think there are similarities to the relationship between this band and its fans. However, what one believes in is up to the individual. I don’t see anything wrong with people finding solace in something religious. What we’re doing isn’t much different. There are people who pay to take in what we put out. However, we probably can’t really save anyone.

Interviewer: You don’t think so? I believe you do.

Aoi: Well, I'm not sure. There might be people out there who feel like they've been saved in some way (laughs). But, we’re not doing this with the grand purpose of saving someone. There are creators who send out something, and there are people who receive it or resonate with it. The more people resonate with it, the bigger it becomes. That feels very natural for a band.

Interviewer: Yes. Each person’s interpretation doesn’t need to be exactly the same, but it is like asking, “How will you receive the absolute aspect of the GazettE?”

Aoi: Yes, I think that’s a good place to leave it. I don’t want to go as far as limiting interpretations.

Interviewer: I also wanted to ask a bit about the visual kei approach. Previously, you all mentioned not wanting to go down the predictable path of becoming more natural as you gain experience. Has that mindset changed?

Aoi: Not really. I think, “If we’re not like this, who would want it?” It’s not something I can just stop or continue on my own will. The GazettE needs to be this way to be necessary. Honestly, continuing this way is a hassle, time-consuming, and tough. But if it’s what’s desired… I can’t just say, “I don’t want to do makeup anymore, I’ll go natural.” Aoi from the GazettE is undeniably me, but it’s not just about me anymore. The same goes for RUKI and the other members. It’s not something I can change based on my own feelings, stopping it forcefully would just be selfish and unnecessary ego.

Interviewer: I see. Indeed, music alone doesn’t define a band or a work. There are many surrounding elements like artwork, videos, and costumes. Some may say, “We are purely about the music, everything else doesn’t matter,” and that might seem like the correct stance for musicians. However, for your band, while music is fundamental, all visual elements are essential too. Without them, it wouldn’t be complete.

Aoi: Exactly. It's hard to put into words, but while music is absolutely central, it’s also just the starting point. What we create isn’t just simple music; it’s a comprehensive form. Our genre and the way we make music are about completing this holistic form. Sound is crucial, but it’s not just about sound. We want everything the audience interacts with to be perfect. That includes the visuals and makeup, if it’s necessary for what’s desired. We’re not just about one aspect.

Interviewer: Of course, hearing someone say, “I like the photos but not the music” would be disappointing. But you believe all these elements are essential for the work to be complete, right? Ideally, the aesthetic and sensibility behind the music should resonate as well.

Aoi: Absolutely. We’re definitely not ordinary, from our looks to everything else. But if you see us as a whole, you’ll realize how all the elements match perfectly. That’s enough for me. Sure, it’s tricky for summer outdoor festivals and it’s hard to maintain (laughs).

Interviewer: Your costumes have become more elaborate too.

Aoi: It does make it harder to move like a typical rock band, heavier in a way. But we still go to festivals like this (laughs). Even if it’s physically demanding, I want to keep moving lightly in spirit. This kind of intense worldview is something you can’t achieve otherwise. As long as it feels justified, it’s meaningful for us. For us, it’s all natural. Everything naturally accompanies the music.

Interviewer: Yes, I understand. For people who initially pick up your work because of the music, noticing these elements is valuable.

Aoi: Indeed. If it leads to new discoveries for them, that’s wonderful and exactly what we hope for.

Interviewer: When you put out a title like "DOGMA", it’s inevitable that people will wonder, "What is the GazettE?" It makes you imagine that this work delves deeply into that question. Is that the correct way to perceive it?

Reita: Yes, I think that's right.

Interviewer: What led you to the idea of creating such an album?

Reita: Up until now, we've made albums that embody a certain worldview, but it's never been this clear. We've tried to shape things based on themes like the colors of the five of us or the essence of the GazettE. However, this time, with the theme of "DOGMA," the very sound of the word stimulates imagination and suggests a specific concept. We've never created an album with such a defined theme before. As we delved into it, it became more interesting and we didn’t want to do anything halfway. That’s how it progressed.

Interviewer: Even without knowing the meaning of the word, I think everyone will get a sense of a creepy, heavy atmosphere. And in reality, it means doctrine or scripture. So, if this band were a religion, would this album be its scripture?

Reita: The relationship between this band and its fans is quite similar to that, isn’t it? We wanted to clearly present that quasi-religious atmosphere. At the same time, we also feel like, "Are we the only ones left in visual kei?" If that’s the case, then it’s only natural for us to create our own religion.

Interviewer: Are you saying, "We are the only gods"?

Reita: I wouldn’t go that far, but yes, something like that (laughs).

Interviewer: There are various bands within the visual kei scene with different musical directions. Instead of asserting that "we're different from others," you’re saying it’s more like, "It's okay with just us"?

Reita: Yes, we feel that if we do this, we won't lose to anyone, and other bands aren’t necessary. That's how we feel.

Interviewer: Now, you've turned everyone into your enemies (laughs).

Reita: Hahaha! Given the diversity in visual kei today, there aren't many others we resonate with... To be honest, death metal seems more visual kei to me these days. It made me reconsider what visual kei really is.

Interviewer: That interpretation can differ by generation. Nowadays, the mainstream in that category might be characterized by a cute, sparkling look with an anything-goes musical approach.

Reita: Yeah. But for us, this is what visual kei is, and it's kind of our origin. It's how we felt when we first learned about visual kei... That might be close to what's packed into "DOGMA."

Interviewer: Death metal often accompanies an aesthetic sense, religious sublimity, and strictness.

Reita: Exactly. The clarity of that worldview, the fact that it's not just anything goes, is close to our idea of visual kei. Nowadays, there are many who do anything goes, but to me, that feels a bit off.

Interviewer: So, you were fed up with the mainstream trend of doing anything goes?

Reita: Yeah. Well, we started the band with a close-to-no-concept approach, but as we continued, the feeling of "this is who we are" emerged. That answer is what we have now. We are different from others, and we’re doing things that others can’t or wouldn’t want to do in this era. Moreover, it's not something that has a hint of the underground but rather something that has gained a certain level of acceptance. The scale and scope are important. By presenting such a worldview, I honestly believe we can’t be beaten.

Interviewer: When people aim to expand and grow, they mostly try to throw something that anyone can easily like, right? But you’re doing the exact opposite. By throwing something extremely pinpointed and extreme, you’re trying to highlight your own existence.

Reita: Exactly. So, people who like it will love it, and it’s meant to keep those who like us from ever leaving. This album isn’t something that everyone will like. I myself understand that.

Interviewer: You say that so definitively.

Reita: Yes. (laughs)

Interviewer: You want to ensure that those who like you will never leave. So, it’s not enough if someone listens to this album and thinks, "the GazettE is my third favorite band"?

Reita: "What's that?" That's the feeling (laughs). We don’t need such words. I know not everyone will like it, and if they hate it, that’s fine, as long as they come to their own conclusion. If someone dislikes it, that’s unavoidable. What’s most frightening is "not being known." Seeing but not liking, listening but hating, is not a problem for me.

Interviewer: Although, if too many people felt that way, it would be a problem.

Reita: True (laughs). But it helps to have people come to their own conclusions. They often say the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. That’s exactly what I think. We started this band and have been doing our best... if people are indifferent, that’s unfulfilling. It means our existence doesn’t matter to them.

Interviewer: So even if the response is negative, being recognized is more important than being unknown?

Reita: Yes, I have no problem with it. That’s why I want to perform at festivals. Because there, a diverse crowd will judge if they like us or not. Of course, it’s risky. The scariest thing is people going to eat during our set. (laughs) If they listen to one song and then leave because they felt nothing, there's nothing you can do.

Interviewer: Didn't you consider the risk that pursuing this path might result in losing something?

Reita: No. If what we think is cool makes people think "that's.. different" then the GazettE doesn’t need to be in their world. That’s the answer. I don’t think we lose anything there.

Interviewer: But what if the majority ends up thinking "that's different"?

Reita: Yes, that might happen. But it won’t lead to despair. Because we believe what we’re doing is cool. To those who say they hate it, I’d just think, "If you hate it, that’s fine, but you don’t get it."

Reita: There aren't many bands like us, right? That's what I think. It might sound conceited (laughs), but that's how I feel.

Interviewer: And at the same time, you're confident that those who have liked the GazettE up until now will like you even more with this release, right?

Reita: Yes. Because I myself like bands like this. So, in the end, it's just my assumption. But it's hard to do something based on the idea, "I don't like it, but maybe everyone else will?" That just feels a bit forced. In the end, you have to run with the belief that what you like, everyone else will like too.

Interviewer: In other words, you're aiming at people out there who share the same sensibilities and values as you do.

Reita: Yes. I believe there are definitely people who will resonate with us. Through our 13 years of activity, I've come to understand that there are quite a few of those people out there.

Interviewer: Do you think that this confidence, backed by your past achievements, has pushed you to take bold actions, like making this album?

Reita: Yes. Above all, the fans who have supported us all along have given us the confidence. So even if that leads to us going a bit overboard, it’s the fans' fault for encouraging us. (laughs)

Interviewer: "It's your fault for getting us all fired up," right?

Reita: Exactly. (laughs) But, whether you call it overboard or not, we have a sense of "this is what you’re expecting from us, right?" So even if people think, "No, this isn’t it," we can say, "Too bad, but this is what the GazettE is now." We're not going to change just because of that.

Interviewer: You mentioned "the current GazettE." While it's clear that "DOGMA" represents the core of the band, you’re not saying you'll always do the same thing.

Reita: Of course. You never know what’s ahead. After we release this album, tour with it, and finish the final show, then maybe we'll understand what this album means to us. So, I can only say it's the current GazettE.

Interviewer: This time, it seems like the period you'll spend on this theme will be longer than usual.

Reita: We wanted to delay finding the answer a bit longer. Usually, after releasing an album, we start touring about a week later, finish it in two months, and reach the tour final. In such a typical flow, you end up having to find the answer within about three months from the album release. But making an album takes way longer than three months. If we have to find the answer in that short time, we have to move quickly. I feel that this is one reason why bands don't last long. We need to enjoy one album for a longer time. Otherwise, I feel like we might come to a stop.

Interviewer: For instance, the previous two albums were made in a relatively short span and were battles against time. Trying to keep up such a cycle might wear you down, right?

Reita: Definitely. You get worn out, and the band’s lifespan gets shorter. That's not desirable for us at all. We want to keep doing the band, that's why we work hard. So, we need to think more about the way we spend time on each album. Japan is small, so even a national tour ends quickly. But in other countries, the tours for one album last much longer. They keep searching for answers during that time. Compared to that, I feel like we’re rushing too much.

Interviewer: Your evolution and growth might be fast, but aging might progress quickly too.

Reita: Exactly. That’s scary, and not what we want at all.

Interviewer: Do you feel like you want to do a tour for "DOGMA" for 2-3 years, like bands in the West do?

Reita: Yes. I want to spend more time and enjoy it more. I want to do it until I feel like I can't do it anymore. I want to get to the point where I can play the songs in my sleep. (laughs) Until it sticks with me that much.

Interviewer: Maybe you won't see what you want to do next until you go all out like that.

Reita: I think so too.

Interviewer: When thinking about keeping the band going for a long time, what do you think is important aside from how you use your time?

Reita: When I say I want to keep the band going for a long time, I don’t just mean continuing the band's activities. The position we’re in is very important. I want to continue for a long time while being at the top.

Interviewer: You don’t just want to be a long-lived band?

Reita: Right. Like I said before, "there’s no one else in visual kei but us," and I don’t want those words to become embarrassing. If we say something like that and then disappear quickly, it would be like, "Oh? There's no one left." So, to continue for a long time means we want to stay at the forefront.

Interviewer: To always be at the forefront and continue until you really can't anymore. What do you think is necessary for that?

Reita: This might sound contradictory, but I think it’s living in the present. If you only want to continue for a long time, you could take it easy. Musically too. If we keep doing only intense songs, it's like, "What is there left to do in the future?" (laughs). But I think by living in the present, we can continue for a long time. That’s what keeps us at the forefront. If we start thinking about making songs that we can play even as old men, it’s like we’re already preparing to step back. So, always being cool in the present is important. That accumulation is the answer, I think. It might sound contradictory though.

Interviewer: If you don't give it your all each time, you can't keep going, right? Considering your age, physical strength, and preferences five years from now while facing the present is impossible. If you think like that, you might just become the person you imagine. Assuming you’ll decline and then changing things because of that. It’s important not to decline.

Reita: Exactly. The GazettE has been around for over 13 years now, and there are many bands that have been around for more than 10 years. But...

Reita: Honestly, I think there are some bands out there that are just continuing because they had no other choice..

Celebrating anniversaries and such can sometimes feel like an insider thing. Sure, there are those who have been supporting us since the beginning and might find it deeply moving, but there are also fans who just started liking us a month ago. For them, it might not matter if we say it’s our anniversary. For instance, having an anniversary concert is fine. But what’s important is to make people think, “Wow, they are at their best right now!” If we just play a lot of nostalgic songs, it might feel like an anniversary concert, but I wonder if it really shows who we are now. As a service, it might not be bad, but if that’s all there is, it might be better to just watch a DVD. An anniversary concert should be about showing who we are now, not just celebrating the past.

Interviewer: I see. Indeed, if you think you’re going to decline in the future, you might subconsciously start preparing for it, and thinking that way means you’re aware you’ve passed your peak. If you thought the last album was the peak, you might try to repeat the same thing. But for the GazettE, you always want now to be the peak, and you want to keep updating it, right?

Reita: Exactly. I think it’s about momentum. When you start liking a band, it’s not a settled band, but a band with a lot of momentum. If you only go for that, you’ll always be interested in the younger ones. But I think it’s possible to keep that momentum even after many years. It’s about how you present yourselves and your mindset. Instead of thinking, “We’ve been doing this for 13 years, maybe it’s time to…” we should have the same or even more energy than in the first year.

Interviewer: Continuing as a visual kei band is particularly difficult. There’s the risk of getting stuck trying to maintain the fans’ image of you, which could result in becoming a deteriorated copy of your past selves. You want to keep your momentum and not fall into that trap, right?

Reita: Of course. I think bands like us should transcend borders, religions, and even age. From the fact that we’ve been together for 13 years, people can guess our ages, but if we don’t mention it, they wouldn’t know. We shouldn’t be bound by the idea of acting our age.

Interviewer: So the concept of acting your age doesn’t apply to this band?

Reita: Exactly. I don’t even know what acting our age means. We don’t want to just get younger, but we want more momentum. More than before. We always want to be seen as having the most momentum right now.

Interviewer: To some people, seasoned bands trying to seek momentum might look like older folks desperately flailing.

Reita: I understand, but it’s different. It’s like our eyes aren’t dead. We want people to think, “These guys are still going to do amazing things.” I personally like bands that give you that feeling. I want the GazettE to be that kind of band. In the past, our momentum might have just been reckless, but being reckless alone reveals a lack of depth. Even now, we might still be a bit reckless, but we’ve gained a lot of experience that serves as a stronger base now. Before, we just jumped with leg strength, but now we use that base to jump even higher. We want to be the ones who always jump higher than anyone else, using both our heads and our experience.

Interviewer: When the band strives to be like that, how do you want the fans to be?

Reita: I think fans will often feel like they’re being dragged along by us, but I believe that’s natural. Fans don’t create the band. We want to keep swinging them around, and we want to cherish those who hold on. On the other hand, if the band gets swung around by the fans, it’s no good. We create something first, and people empathize with that and enjoy it fully.

Interviewer: In that sense, “DOGMA” is like a set of rules for the GazettE, but it’s the band that presents them, not the audience.

Reita: It’s like religion. Believers don’t change the rules. We should present them clearly, and if we do, it will be clear who likes and dislikes it, and those who like it will like it even more. It’s okay if people start liking us halfway through. Even if they don’t like it now, they might listen to “DOGMA” again next year and really like it. I want them to clearly decide if it’s a hit or miss for them.

Interviewer: That’s like religion too. You either believe everything or nothing. No one deeply believes in multiple religions equally.

Reita: Right. Religion has general laws and then additional laws for a limited group. It means you lose more freedom, but the people in it feel happy. It’s fascinating. I often wonder what religion really is. It’s about enjoying a restricted world in your own way. The GazettE also has things we shouldn’t do or can’t do as the GazettE. That might limit our freedom, but it also keeps us sharp. So if fans like this band, they should understand what the GazettE is and come to our concerts with that understanding.

Interviewer: “DOGMA” is a guide for the fans to understand what this band is all about.

Reita: I think so. I’ve been saying some pretty bold things, but we need strong words like this to match the album.

Interviewer: Looking back at the recording process, how does it compare to the completion of previous albums?

Kai: The sense of accomplishment is entirely different. It's not that this time is particularly significant, but rather that it feels like it's not quite finished yet. Honestly, it doesn't feel like a definitive "Ah, it's done!" moment at all. It feels like only a part of the process has been completed. To use a human body as a metaphor, it's like we've only just completed the torso. So, it's like we're finished, yet not finished. I was aware that I would feel this way from the start, and that’s how we’ve been progressing.

Interviewer: What do you mean by that? This time, there are many additional elements like the book, photo album, and DVD. The artwork is also very elaborate. Does this mean it won't feel complete until everything is released?

Kai: That's part of it, but even when everything is ready, I don’t think it will feel like a complete closure. The album "DOGMA" itself will be complete, but the "PROJECT: DARK AGE," is still just starting. The flow of time is different this time. It's not like before, where we released an album, toured, and then it was done.

Interviewer: The tour seems far from over, as it’s not just confined to Japan. It looks like the "OMINOUS YEAR" will continue.

Kai: Yes, and we still don’t know what our mindset will be after the album and tour. I feel like we won't have fully processed everything by then. Sometimes, right after finishing an album, you want to start creating the next one. But I can't see what we’ll create after digesting this one. I predict that we'll be running for a long time from now. This feeling will probably grow stronger as we move forward, which is a wonderful thing.

Interviewer: Did you aim to create this album as a starting point for a slow and thorough process leading to the next phase?

Kai: Yes, we intended to create something like that. This work was being done while we pondered deeply about what "the GazettE" means. This reflection has been especially strong this time. The process of questioning myself about the band's essence will continue as long as the GazettE exists. This time, we’ve delved into our true essence. Regardless of what we do in the future, I think this core part will remain unshaken.

Interviewer: Fans, used to interpreting your words deeply, might have expected this album to define the GazettE's doctrine, given its title "DOGMA."

Kai: That might be true. One of the reasons we reached this point is due to our history. Timing also plays a part.

Interviewer: Was there a sense of resetting involved?

Kai: Maybe. We toured under the theme of "redefinition" in 2014, performing mostly live shows and not releasing much. Live shows are where we feel the most like ourselves and gain various insights. I felt that it was a necessary time to thoroughly reflect on our journey, something we hadn’t done before.

Interviewer: The tour followed the release order of your albums, allowing you to relive your history in chronological order.

Kai: Exactly. It was a year of constantly facing our past. We were able to look at the GazettE and ourselves more closely than ever before. This is why we’ve reached the point we are in now.

Interviewer: This might sound rude, but didn’t you discover anything you’d rather not admit, like thinking you hadn’t progressed as much as you’d hoped or that your earlier work was better?

Kai: (Laughs) Fortunately, not at all.

Interviewer: That’s good to hear (laughs).

Kai: As we performed more tours following the order of our albums, we realized we had consistently improved and climbed our own ladder. Now, we're here, and naturally, we start thinking about what ladder to climb next. But to move forward, we need a solid foundation. This led us to question, "What is the GazettE?" and create an album around that concept.

Interviewer: I see. Did you discuss this among the five of you?

Kai: Yes, we frequently discussed it. Initially, everyone was cautious, but we talked things over each time. The word "dogma" had already come up, so we naturally envisioned an album that reaffirms the essence of the GazettE. Through discussions, we gradually identified the elements we wanted to highlight. One of the most significant keywords for me was "dogma." It resonated with me and seemed to define the album's character.

Interviewer: That makes sense. However, when it comes to embodying that in music, wasn't it challenging to figure out what to do?

Kai: Not really. Ultimately, it's about fully expressing ourselves and presenting the GazettE as we are. We’ve always done that, so it felt natural to us.

Interviewer: True, but the word “dogma” also has a somewhat religious connotation, doesn’t it?

Kai: Maybe, but I don’t feel that much. Perhaps because I didn’t know the word well. (laughs) Sure, the relationship between a band and its fans can seem a bit like a religion. But for me, it wasn’t about doing something religious; it was more about “dogma of the GazettE.” That strong link in interpretation led me naturally to this project.

Interviewer: I see. What does “the GazettE” mean to you?

Kai: Well... It might not be a direct answer, but I feel that we are not suited to “throwing things out there.” We need to “smash it down” instead. That’s who we are.

Interviewer: Indeed, that’s how it should be.

Kai: Right? (laughs). Instead of asking, “How do you feel?” it’s about showing it blatantly. That’s the spirit, the stance that defines the GazettE. It links strongly with the concept of “dogma.” It’s not about asking fans to follow us; it’s about demanding they come along. That’s the type the GazettE is. So, we must lead with that strength. Sure, it might link with the religious aspect, but every band has its way. That’s ours.

Interviewer: Rather than “throwing it out,” you “smash down.” And what you smash down must be overwhelming or absolute, right?

Kai: Yes, it must be something we have absolute confidence and conviction in.

Interviewer: In today’s world, there seem to be more bands and artists that “throw things out there.” Don’t you think that makes you want to perfect the “smashing down” approach even more?

Kai: Yes, there’s that contrarian streak in our band. We don’t try to follow the trends or do the same as others. If it’s our truth, it doesn’t matter if it’s mainstream or not. Even if criticized, it’s like, “So what?”

Interviewer: I suppose the GazettE’s “doctrine” includes the phrase, “Rock is not about throwing out; it’s about smashing down.” What’s the one thing you most want to smash down to your listeners?

Kai: That It’s not just us. It’s about the feeling that “You, the fans, are also part of the band!” It’s about smashing down the sense that “It’s not just us.” The band must be absolute, but...

Interviewer: You mean it’s up to the fans to take it in, right?

Kai: Yes, everything depends on you. What spreads and deepens also relies on you. Speaking practically, if we throw down something confident, but no one follows, we can’t do anything. Our activities will falter, and the band might cease to exist. But if we have supporters, what we can do grows and deepens, making the band unique.

Interviewer: So the band’s value is decided by the fans too.

Kai: Yes, in part. It’s not just “thanks to you all.”

Interviewer: Like, “That band is amazing, and so are their fans,” right? Ultimately, you want fans to evolve with the band, which makes you want to smash down this “doctrine.”

Kai: Exactly. I want core fans to become even more core. So dedicated that they don't even have room in their profile to mention other bands (laughs). Just the GazettE. Saying they can’t live without us. We need to be that kind of band. That’s the ultimate relationship with fans.

Interviewer: Right. Having fans that deeply dedicated depends on the band’s charm, right?

Kai: Yes, we need to be a band so compelling that fans have no interest in others. Only then can we be truly unique. It’s not about doing something different from others but being compelling in our way.

Interviewer: Otherwise, it’s just a narrow niche.

Kai: Haha! Exactly. Instead of a narrow niche, we should aim to blow everything away. It’s very rock n roll to not follow others, but if we can do it, why hesitate?

Interviewer: The ones who do it best get recognized, not necessarily the first one to do it.

Kai: Right. In the big picture, we are niche, but we’re making our mark there.

Interviewer: Fans are surely attracted to that aspect. But it’s not just about prioritizing the demands of what you could call the "core of the core" fans. You must also aim to make an impact on those outside that core.

Kai: Yeah. But it’s not about trying to make those on the outside listen to us; it’s preferable if it resonates with them naturally. That’s the ideal, and I believe we need to achieve that. We strike hard at our core fans, but just throwing it out to everyone else would be strange (laughs). We don't want our stance to have a gradient based on the audience. We always want to be either black or white.

Interviewer: In the song commentary included in this book, you mentioned that the title track "DOGMA" felt like "opening a heavy and large door." When I heard that, I thought you must have felt that at some point, you had to reach out to that door. In other words, you thought you had to make an album like this eventually, right?

Kai: I think we were waiting for the right timing ourselves. Now that we’ve made it, I feel that way. It’s a kind of return to our roots. We’re not going back to the starting point, but we approached something we always wanted to create with full readiness. As a result, a heavy door that we couldn’t open no matter how hard we pushed before has now opened. Maybe it’s because we’ve gained strength, or maybe it was just the right time to make this.

Interviewer: It was probably a bit of both. And after opening that door, the current the GazettE isn’t necessarily trying to head to a completely different place than before.

Kai: Not at all. It’s more about making the dark parts even darker, so to speak. It’s about eliminating ambiguous parts and striving for something more definitive as the GazettE, while still being the GazettE.

Interviewer: Of course, that’s what you aimed for this time as well. But I think there must have been a lot of pressure to create a truly definitive piece that surpasses your previous ideals.

Kai: Yes... there was. Honestly, it was quite a long period of struggle. We worked on it while thinking about various things since the time of the "redefinition" tour. This was the first time for our band to continuously work toward something over such a long period. Well, I’m confident that the result is something good. We’ve definitely made a piece that we can proudly say, "This is the GazettE!" I believe this will be a great strength for us moving forward. Even in the stage of selecting songs, we had quite a bit of inner conflict. For instance, thinking, "In this flow, it would be nice to have at least one melodic song here." According to our previous standards or way of thinking, we would tend to include something like that, but we deliberately didn’t, deciding instead to push more on the aggressive side. This approach was something we originally had within us, but we had never gone this far in that direction before, so in that sense, it was also a challenge. We’ve never made something with this kind of balance. This is both a challenge and a way to firmly showcase our strengths.

Interviewer: The term "perfect balance" is often used in everyday life, but in the end, it’s just a balance that suits the preferences of the receiver. The way balance is sought depends on the nature of the work itself.

Kai: That’s right. So, to put it bluntly, this might not be a well-balanced album. If you consider it from the ideal of a certain period of ourselves. But the album "DOGMA" couldn’t have been balanced in any other way... it had to be like this.

Interviewer: In other words, it wouldn’t have been "DOGMA" if it wasn’t for this kind of balance?

Kai: Exactly. Also, we don’t create albums by comparing them to our past works. We don’t think, "We made this kind of album before, so let’s try making this kind now." As I mentioned earlier, there were times when we felt the need to add a melodic song after a series of intense tracks, thinking it might be necessary. That’s due to past habits or ingrained sense of balance. But this time, we completely ignored that. We focused most on making "DOGMA" as "DOGMA" as possible.

Interviewer: And as a result, you’ve completed an album that truly fits its title.

Kai: Yes. Even I feel that we really pushed the limits. But we’ve truly created something that lives up to the title, and I’m glad we had the word “dogma” from the beginning.

Interviewer: Of course, there may be parts within this work that you might want to revise in the future. But a “canon” isn’t something that can be repeatedly revised, and it’s meant to last forever in its current form.

Kai: Yes, I think so too. That’s why I’m really satisfied right now. For fans, this album is "an album they’ve been waiting for for two years." We’re confident that it’s something that won’t betray their high expectations, something that even surpasses them. Moreover, as I mentioned at the beginning, it’s an album with plenty of room for further exploration on our part. That’s why releasing a work doesn’t mean it’s complete.

Interviewer: Ofcourse. This flow of time will continue for quite a while.

Kai: The full scope will become clear moving forward, but this "ominous year" will involve various developments with "DOGMA" at its core. So, just like everyone will be breaking down "DOGMA," we’ll also spend a long time digesting this album and communicating about it. "DOGMA" is an album that reflects our essence more than anything, and I believe that part will remain unshaken. Of course, our music will continue to evolve, but no matter how much its form changes, the essence won’t change, and we won’t lose this part. If at some point, we decide that we need to change fundamentally, then we’ll have to present a new "doctrine" again.

Interviewer: But surely, if that ever happens, it will be far in the future.

Kai: Yes. Right now, the most important thing is to keep this mindset we have, continue creating works with the same passion and energy, and give our all. Otherwise, there is no future for the GazettE. We don’t want to release anything half-baked.

...

.......

...

Part 1 of the Dogma Book translations (members comments about each song)

Once again, all the scans are from the archive (rad-is-more) All translations are ChatGPT, edited by me. I added the book text pages themselves because I often read interviews and want to look more deeply into a certain passage but people never provide the source of the translation so it's impossible to do. This might not be the most aesthetic way to do an interview post but it's the most convenient for me personally. Also, I've noticed all the pieces like photos, art and interviews are very scattered on this site. Fragmentation only leads to misunderstanding and I am trying to piece everything together as much as possible, even though it leads to very long posts.

[kaibutsushidousha]

The Hundred Line - Famitsu interview June 19th 2024

What does the title Hundred Line mean?

Kodaka: The simplest way to describe this game is: student have to live together in a school while fighting to survive 100 days. This "100 days" timeframe became a major keyword, so we decided to express it through the title The Hundred Line - Last Defense Academy.

The game has been described as "a tale of extreme x despair produced by the creators of Danganronpa". This "extreme x despair" keyword reminds me of the Concept Art 1 presented September 2018 at the announcement of Too Kyo Games. Caption: Extreme x Despair. A game co-written by Kodaka and Uchikoshi!

Kodaka: As you can imagine, this is the game from Concept Art 1. We finally managed to announce, but at first, The Hundred Line was developed as Too Kyo's first original IP. However, our company isn't capable of self-publishing, so now we're working with Aniplex, on a half-half split on production costs.

When did development start?

Kodaka: Since we founded Too Kyo Games (2017), so that has been 6 or 7 years. At first, Uchikoshi and I partnered with another major publisher to release our game, but unfortunately, the project was canceled...

In a previous interview, you mentioned a title not coming out as planned, but I didn't think you mean an actual cancellation...

Kodaka: I have so much I could talk about on this one, but I don't think the first talk about this game should be about what went wrong, so how about we save it for another day? Haha. Although The Hundred Line's project was canceled for a while, now, after finding what we needed to make it a good game, we rebranded it and restarted our whole internal development cycle.

We were initially fine with it being indie-sized, but as the story and character designs were getting polished, and the concept gained a more solid form, we started thinking we couldn't make our ideal game unless we went bigger. Determined to put our hand to the test... we took a loan.

A loan!?

Kodaka: It wasn't guaranteed that we'd have the working capital to maintain our enlarged development scope even if we sold all of our stocks. We advanced the production with the phantom of debt on our necks while we searched for a new publisher, and that's where I met Aniplex and smoothly sold our pitch.

However, since this game has simulation RPG sections, they said that'd need a third-party developer. For that, they introduced us to the accomplished Media Vision and had them join the dev team. We're also cooperating with Jet Studio, who worked with us before in Danganronpa and Rain Code.

After all that it took to get this game to a presentable state, we of Too Kyo Games consider it a proud symbol of our persistence, or better yet, the culmination and conclusion to the current stage of our careers.

Staking your life on your work has never been so literal...

Kodaka: True, if this game flops, we won't be able to pay our debt. In that sense, this also provides a rare opportunity to the playerbase too. They get to witness how much a single title's sales can influence the future of a creator and company.

That's not the kind of suspense I want as a game fan, haha. Still, with six years of development, is it safe to assume you've been through a fair share of hardships?

Kodaka: I did. That was my first time dealing with a full cancellation. Also, to enable to Too Kyo to continue its work, to partner up with a new publisher, etc, we couldn't continue the development in the direction we were before. We needed to restart on our semi-complete project, and that's already painful labor in itself.

In terms of creative workload, I can't say I was much busier than I was in the Danganronpa V3 days, having to work in the game and the anime at the same time, but in this situation, aside from my directing, writing, and screen composition duties, I'm also Too Kyo Games's president and producer, meaning I have more work outside my craftsmanship... Making the game and managing the funds at the same time would have given most people a mental breakdown (laughs).

It was mentally and financially taxing, but I don't think I'll ever get another opportunity to pour this level of effort into making a game happen. Putting my life on the line was a very valuable experience.

You mean to say you can feel Too Kyo Games's entire soul in the game? On another note, I couldn't find any of the characters from the concept art in the new key visual or the screenshots. Does the restart mean that those characters got shelved?

Kodaka: The game's general concept is still the same, but to put a new, clean start on it, we changed a few things completely. One of them being the character designs. But despite their changed appearances, they maintain the characterization of their predecessors, so you'll see characters similar to what those would have been.

However, the old politician you see in the upper left corner won't be in the game (laughs). He's a character Komatsuzaki made up on the spot for this illustration, so I know as much about who he is as you do. He's doomed to disappear shrouded in mystery.

(laughs) By the way, considering how The Hundred Line is "the tale of extreme x despair", I'm curious about how this keyword "despair" relates to Danganronpa.

Kodaka: The tagline "tale of extreme x despair" is to signify that this is the first game Uchikoshi and I are directing together. It has nothing to do with Danganronpa, but it is a game made leveraging all of my previous experiences. With that plus Komatsuzaki's and Takada's involvement, I consider it a spiritual successor to Danganronpa.

Who from the main Too Kyo Games roster is working in this and what are their roles?

Kodaka: Uchikoshi and I are splitting the directing and writing work, Komatsuzaki is on the character design, Shimadrill is doing the enemy design and the backgrounds, and Takada is in charge of the soundtrack. Also, Uchikoshi and I do screen composition for the scenes we write.

I didn't think I'd have to do the screen composition job here myself, but I'm the best at handling Komatsuzaki's art and Takada's music, so that job is dumped on me. I got a lot of material to work with. Maybe more expression options than Yuma had in Rain Code.

The Danganronpa series also had me personally choosing faces and soundtrack one by one, so I hope the fans of that series enjoy the familiar vibes in the visual novel sections.

The new announcement came with a key visual. Are these characters in uniforms going to be the main cast?

Kodaka: Yes. They're the students of Last Defense Academy and are living in the school for unknown reasons. The students have special powers called Hemoanimas. They normally have their own sets of clothes, but upon activating their Hemoanima, they change into this uniform and fight against their enemies.

Is the white character a mascot?

Kodaka: Yes. He's the squad coordinator character. So his name is just SIREI, from shireikan; commander. By the way, SIREI is the reincarnation of the raccoon illustrated in the key visual. Both forms of this character were designed by Komatsuzaki. I pointed him in a general direction I wanted but overall let him do whatever he wanted. Meanwhile, the students followed the usual process going through a lot of back-and-forth until their completion.

In Danganronpa, their designs reflected their Super High School Level talents. Does The Hundred Line have any kind of keyword or characterization element that informed their designs in the same way the Super High School Level talents did?

Kodaka: Each student masters a different Unique Subject and has a different weapon of choice. That's what their designs mainly reflect. I'll talk more about Unique Subjects and weapons of choice later.

I'm looking forward to the update. Next question. Danganronpa and Rain Code had all-star casts of voice actors. I have expectations for The Hundred Line's cast.

Kodaka: Unfortunately, I can't reveal the actors at the moment, but I will say half of them have performed in previous Kodaka or Uchikoshi game and the other half is people we're both meeting for the first time. But look forward to it, it's going to be as all-star as any previous game. I know the released PV is voiced by the protagonist, but who is voicing him is still confidential.

Will the creatures depicted flying above the main characters be enemies?

Kodaka: Correct. The enemies are unknown entities attacking the school. They're called School Invaders. If you take a really close look at the key visual, you may notice the academy is protected by a pink flame. That's called the Unextinguishable Flame and that's what prevents the School Invaders from attacking 24/7.

When the School Invaders get past the Unextinguishable Flame, the students will need to repel them. The students aren't informed about the academy's or the unextinguishable flame's secrets, nor they know why the School Invaders are attacking. The story progresses as they fight School Invaders day by day unaware of their circumstances.

Do you have anything noteworthy to say about your interactions with Shimadrill regarding his work designing the enemies?

Kodaka: My priority for the character design of the weaker School Invaders was that they had venomous pop aesthetics. At my first discussion with Shimadrill, we arrived at the idea of making their designs intentionally similar to the monsters of a famous game franchise, but we changed plans along the way. Ultimately, we got likable enemies with that pop aesthetic.

Playing aggressively even on the designs, huh? That's the Too Kyo Games I know.

Kodaka: We changed our aim because copying designs was a really bad idea we took too far. Our mindset at the time is that, true to Too Kyo's name, we wanted to make a game that was indeed too crazy. Too Kyo Games is a company that prides itself on its writing, designs, and music.

However, compliance is a lot more important nowadays, so there's a lot more we need to keep in mind. We were defanged by the corporate structure of our partner for the cancelled version of the game. Depictions of violence and dirty jokes that were acceptable in our previous works weren't fine with them. We had to be on our best behavior to adhere to their compliance demands.

Now that I got to remake the game as something else, I can see that not releasing it on its previous state was for the best. Because I couldn't express my strengths in full there.

The Hundred Line was my first collaborative work with Uchikoshi and our first original IP. Making a game that's simply good wouldn't be enough. There'd be no point in starting this over if we couldn't go all-out. We developed The Hundred Line determined to make a game someone with good sense couldn't make. A title to be considered a product of deranged minds. In the sense, we were very lucky to land on a partnership with Aniplex.

Tell me more about what do you mean by "lucky" here.

Kodaka: To leverage the strengths of Too Kyo Games, we're writing a very controversial narrative. Aniplex is being thankfully quite flexible with what we're allowed to depict, as they understand our fortes and respect our vision. For that reason, Uchikoshi and I were able to depict the crazy story we wanted to.

Kodaka, in a previous interview, you expressed determination toward making this game a story that make people question your sanity. A game people wouldn't expect to be possible to make. Would you say managed to fulfill this ambition?

Kodaka: I can't comment about the gimmick without getting into spoilers, so I have no plans to reveal the answer to this before the game's release. Playing the game for yourself should be enough to convey Too Kyo Games's outlandishness. I believe my reason to pair up with Uchikoshi will be equally evident, and it'll be easy to make sense of why this game needed multiple writers and recruiting new hires.

I know perfectly well this is a tasteless request, but can you drop a hint?

Kodaka: Fine, I'll tell you some details after the interview. You're allowed to address what I'll say in your opinion post (laughs).

I appreciate the gesture, but let's see if I'm up for the challenge (laughs)

Tell us what the general gameplay loop is like.

Kodaka: The Hundred Line follows a cycle of 3 parts: a visual novel section, an exploration section, and a simulation RPG section. I already explained at the opener that it's a game where you survive 100 days of combat, but that doesn't mean time will pass uneventfully.

Like in Danganronpa, something will happen each day, and you'll get chances to talk with your schoolmates and deepen your relationships. You'll get Free Time, you'll get training sessions to increase your stats, and you'll be able to get other power ups by sharpening your weapons. The goal in the visual novel and exploration sections is to enjoy life with your schoolmates while also preparing for the enemies that can appear at any moment.

Got it. Now explain the simulation RPG section too, please.

Kodaka: The simulation RPG section has tower defense elements. It's not just about defeating the enemies, you also have to fight defending the school. Also, since the School Invaders come in large flocks, the main gimmick here is that you need to fight on multiple grids of the board at the same time instead of taking it one grid at a time.

Our developer, Media Vision, has a lot of experience in simulation RPGs. We'll disclose more details about the gameplay later, but I'm glad they were able to come up with and implement hype combat ideas (such as unique traits and ultimate moves for each character) in a way that can satisfy the fans of the genre.

You mean to say the simulation RPG sections are going to be solid?

Kodaka: Correct. That said, a lot of people who buy my games are casual gamers, so I always put emphasis on ease of play.

Then first-time simulation RPG players will have nothing to worry about.

Kodaka: Another point of interest is Takada's soundtrack. I requested the battle BGM to have the intensity of an action game. It's inspired by technical rock bands from the 90s, mainly The Chemical Brothers and Boom Boom Satellites. The visual novel sections, on the other hand, have a more sci-fi-adjacent OST to match its strong sci-fi aesthetics.

Tell us a release date and the consoles.

Kodaka: Early 2025, Switch and Steam.

Less than a year before release. Do you think the team can make it?

Kodaka: We're still working on it, but I think we won't have to delay the release. To be honest, The Hundred Line is progressing faster than Rain Code was (laughs). Besides, Too Kyo Games can't afford to delay a game our creators are staking their lives on.

Messages to players and readers usually often saying things like "We're doing our best" or "Cheer for us", but for this title, I can't bring myself to be so casual about it. I feel like I'm issuing a challenge to the players here.

I have a marketing strategy to draw attention to the game, and I'm polishing it to make anyone who buys it say it's a good game, so I'm feeling more of a "Just watch me!" or a "Wait until you see this thing released!" for a closing message.

Giant Kuroda's editorial comment

As outlandish as promised.

That's the interviewer's honest impression on what Kodaka told me about The Hundred Line's gimmick. I [Giant Kuroda] have been the Famitsu interviewer in charge of Danganronpa since Danganronpa 2. I interviewed him pre-release for a game launched in 2012, which means I've been talking to Kodaka for at least 12 years.

Kodaka and his art surprised me many times. In a good way.

Danganronpa 2's final boss. Danganronpa V3's first case culprit, finale, and the secret hidden in the title. Danganronpa 3 simultaneous broadcast of Side:Future and Side:Despair. Rain Code's first case...

The list could go on forever, but The Hundred Line's gimmick is more impactful than of those. I can't deliver a final judgement until I play the game for myself, but depending on what the game has to offer, it could be his uncontested best. That's how much potential I felt in that spoiler. I get the point of staking their lives on it now.

Also, in what's rare for a Kodaka title, the game will be allowed to be streamed relatively far into the story despite earlier spoilers (information subject to change). Kodaka's story-heavy games are a double-edged sword. It's possible for players to feel like they experienced enough by simply watching a Let's Play that spoils all the twists. However, I believe this game actually benefits from unrestricted streaming. But I can't say why. It's a spoiler...

At any rate, this game is Kodaka's and Uchikoshi's first collaborative story, and as Kodaka said, its narrative is a product of deranged minds. I wait with bated breath to the day I can finally play it, and also look forward to reading opinion posts about it online. You can get your hopes up, Kodaka and Uchikoshi fans.

[pancakeis]

Zhichu Interview for JJWXC (2021)

　　JJWXC’s signed author, Zhichu. Born by the Yangtze River, has a passionate love for all beautiful things. The writing journey began in the summer of 2018; creating and writing is a process of becoming more aware of the world. It has allowed me many rewarding experiences, as well as a continuous growth. 

　　

　　Q1：What is the origin of the pen name ‘Zhichu’?

　　A：The pen name actually originated from my profile page’s name The Child Born in Chu [1]. I’m a child of Wuhan; when I was young, my parents mostly read “Urban Chu Daily News” (such a distant memory haha). At that time, I couldn’t come up with anything good for a pen name,  then I happened to have a meal in the Chu River Han Street [2]. Suddenly an idea sprang up, and the rest was history.

[1]: the area nearby Chu River, a tributary of the Yangtze River

[2]: the new landmark of Wuhan. More info here and here

　　Q2：What made you decide to publish on Jinjiang?

　　A：To be honest, it began in the 2018 summer break. I was very free, lazing around at home and reading so many novels on JJ. One time experiencing the void [3], I suddenly had this urge to write something myself, so I told my mom, “Mom, I want to write novels.”

My mom said, “Then go and write, don’t say empty words.”

I’m more of the “actions speak louder than words” type, and with the push from my mom’s words, I went ahead and did it in the heat of the moment (my mom knows really well how to motivate me). When writing the first book, “BE-obsessing Survival System”, I suddenly realised that, creating your own characters and story is an amazing process. What I find even more inconceivable, is to have so many adorable readers giving comments and support. It was completely beyond my initial expectation.

[3]: the void left behind by a really good book

　　Q3：Do you have outlines or drafts when writing?

　　A：Don’t have such detailed outlines. I’ll draw mind maps, but usually the initial idea and the final product are two different entities altogether. Because my writing is more of an immersive style, towards the latter stage, the characters will develop their own consciousness to alter the plot developments. I do have saved drafts, except for the first title [4]. The newer works all have at least a 10k-word draft saved, however the daily updates were basically freshly written.

[4]: Referring to Zhichu’s first book BE System

　　

　　Q4：What has motivated you to serialise your novels?

　　A：Readers. I’m a procrastinator, so setting up a deadline for myself is very much needed. I’m also really afraid of disappointing others; when I think about readers waiting to read the updates every night at 9 o’clock, I’m fueled with determination to finish writing ahead of that time. Reading the comments grants me an immense happiness, a sense of achievement and pleasure that nothing else can bring about. I can still remember the username of the very first commenter. Really, very thankful.

　　

　　Q5：What are your usual hobbies?

　　A：Listening to songs, music inspires me a lot. Watching movies, reading books, scrolling through everyone’s comments, noting down nice eateries and gathering with friends at said eateries for a meal. Eating good food makes me very happy.

　　

　　Q6：Any genre that you really want to try your hand at?

　　A：Too many! I love sci-fi and supernatural very much. I’m a horror film enthusiast, but because I love it so much, I keep delaying, don’t dare to start writing it. However, in the future I’ll continue trying my hand at various styles, because I really don’t like to confine myself in a fixed scope of writing.

　　

　　Q7：What kind of style and characters can we expect from your next book?

　　A：Hopefully I can convey a really cool style of writing. Characters’ personas are: a shou whom you don’t know when he’ll be forced to transform himself from a pure and holy angel into a maniacal black lotus, and a big boss gong who is both languid and melancholic, showing a lack of interest towards everyone and everything except for the shou. Two people, evenly matched in power, yet strikingly different from each other. A new attempt, I hope everyone will like it.

　　

　　Q8：Anything to tell your readers?

　　A：What I want to say is the same as every time I end a book -- really, very, very thankful towards everyone for supporting my works. I’m someone with not too much self-confidence, and my health isn’t good either. Serialising a novel is both very lonely and taxing, but seeing your words and encouragement in the comments give me the strength to carry on. It’s also you who pull me out from the endless sunken loop of self-doubting, therefore I always want to express my gratitude towards all of you, no matter how many times. I’m only a flawed human being, not a persona that someone came up with, so I want to thank you too, for your tolerance towards me. 

Although started off as an impulse, I treat writing with lots of sincerity. Writing, and everything I’ve experienced ever since I began writing, have allowed me to grow into a new self. It’s thanks to your presence throughout this process that I could persevere. It’s hard to imagine that we’re friends who communicate solely through written words, because I have received so much warmth and kindness from all of you. Perhaps this is the value of writing and reading ba.

Love you all, sincerely wishing each of you safety and happiness.

---

Raw: JJWXC

Translation: keishi

First posted on Twitter @_keikaku

[tesb]

“5 minutes before the performance I was still sure of victory. I didn’t win. Thank you and I’m sorry ❤️” @paidatonriehuja (Käärijä) on Instagram

[sherrymagic]

AOUBOOM'S WORKING GOALS 🌼🧸 #FEEDxAouBoom | translation cr. ©

[theysangastheyslew]

It's gotta be the reason behind this ⬇️ right?😂

I know everyone probably forgot about this release already but I sure didn't lol. Lord knows they both deserve a little pampering 🥰

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

part 1 part 3

~ the Gazette - interview for Vif Music about the [NINTH] ~ part 2

◆ Album that the Gazette can release at the peak of the form (Reita)

- The thing created by such hard work, what are your impressions about it now, frankly?

REITA: It’s a good album. According to my feelings, it’s such you can just enjoy, rather than treating it as a sign work.

- It doesn’t look like you did it with enthusiasm.

REITA: Because in “Falling” you can feel the scale, but the whole album is not quite so pretentious. It’s easy to listen to, causes emotions, the range of genres is wide. I think the GazettE can release such an album at the peak of the form.

- Personally for me, interpretation of the album [DOGMA] only deepened for a long time, it was quite difficult to understand, and I agree when you say that the current album is easy to listen to. By the way, in the current lyrics there are words like «rubbish» or«guren» («NINTH ODD SMELL»), «gururi guru» («Uragiru Shita»), which vaguely resemble pieces of text or the titles of your previous works. Was it done on purpose?

RUKI: «NINTH ODD SMELL» - yes. We were originally going to make this song this way.

- In a recent release, you have decidedly focused on the past, and a thought crept into my head, if because of this you added live record “Boudouku Gudon no Sakura” in one of the album’s edition as a bonus,  in which you raised the concept of the earliest period of your activity?

RUKI: It’s not quite like that. 

- Well, then what the main idea Ruki-san wanted to enclose in the lyrics on this album?

RUKI: It is almost the same as always, I just wanted to tell about the moment “now”.

- The very “present time”, which already appeared earlier in the conversation. Is it possible to regard “Falling”, which came out beforehand and even with PV, as a symbol of the album?

RUKI: A symbol is a bit complicated. Rather to say that it is a prologue.

- As an entrance in the best sense of this word.

RUKI: Yes. Initially, it was such a representation that the image of the album comes with an intro, falls down on “Falling” and begins already with “NINTH ODD SMELL”.

- Previously, you looked like those who aren’t eager to touch the theme of lyrics, but this time, with the release of “Falling”, you immediately published and lyrics. Could it be that since the release of lyric video for the song “OMINOUS” in August 2015, you’ve changed the attitude to the lyrics?

RUKI: If we are talking about lyrics, then I most likely won’t answer if I am asked “What is this text about?”. It depends on the interpretation. For example, if I am asked: “And is "Falling” about a view of two lovers for love?», then I will answer: “Mmm … the essence is of course different, but if you see the text that way, I don’t mind.” I just said earlier that I don’t want to talk about this, but now I calmly answer. 

REITA: Stop lying (laughs).

RUKI: Well, listen, I just think that if to say: “The lyrics is about this”, then the impression of the song at the same time will change.

- I was intrigued by the text "UNFINISHED”…

RUKI: Aah, I can not talk about this (instantly blurted out).

- I knew you it. (laughs).

RUKI: It’s not that I’m compared to other points of view, rather, I look at different points of view and write under the impression.

- I have a feeling that your lyrics haven’t been so straightforward for a long time.

RUKI: But I’m always straightforward. Perhaps it doesn’t look that way, because I do not say what exactly the text is written about. But even in the time of [DOGMA] from our position, we were unusually straightforward.

KAI: But [UNFINISHED] really seems very forthright. Not so much frank, maybe, but its text is easy to understand.

- It seems straightforward and honest.

RUKI: It is straightforward and honest.

- Don’t you think that the fans will also be surprised at such lyrics?

REITA: On the contrary, if you impose complex words on such a simple motive, won’t it be strange?

RUKI: (laughs)

URUHA: But the Gazette eventually became the band, which is surprising by the very fact that it releases such a song.

REITA: And when have we became. At some point, we were recorded in the ardent adherents of gloom. Annoyingly (laughs).

RUKI: And we used to have albums that ended in the same way?

URUHA: Nope, we haven’t.

RUKI: Seriously, we havn’t? (laughs)

- The mood, of course, is different, but in a sense this song with its frankness is reminiscent of [Miseinen].

RUKI: From the point of view of the lyrics, I didn’t put such a meaning into it, but in terms of the fact that it sounds very familiar, I understand you. There is probably that naivete in it.

◆ We tried even those equipment that we don’t have, and thus adduced melodies and parts of them to the most expressive progress. (Aoi) 

- Working on “TRACES VOL.2” you made the mixing by yourself. And this time?

RUKI: This time, Uruha processed three songs.

URUHA: «99.999», «THE MORTAL» and «BABYLON’S TABOO».

— But last time you said you wouldn’t do it anymore.

REITA: It seems, it was still interesting.

AOI: Everyone was like “Let me! Let me!”

URUHA: (laughs) I did this in parallel with other work. If I had not been busy with mixing, I probably would have been free. Unlike working on ballads, the amount of work was quite different, and the drums were recorded from the real set, so the weight of the data was great …the drum mixing was the most troublesome.

KAI: But you did it well (laughs).

- You said that on “TRACES Vol.2” the hardest thing was to decide what to do with the low sound of the bass guitar.

URUHA: This time I was sent a bass with a wide range, and I inserted it without much pain.

REITA: During the recording this time there were a few moments, which did not fit either way. Playing on the instruments, depending on the way of playing, the outgoing sound changes, so in the middle of the night I sent him many messages in LINE to listen how it sounds better: if I play with my fingers or thumb. 

to be continued…

original on vif-music

translation from japanese to russian by haruurara-kazan on tumblr

translated from russian to english by me

as always thx for reading and sorry for mistakes ^^

[sophaeros]

my chemical romance for inrock, august 2007 / vol. 284 english translation

[lingerdingdong]

Marc Revelado Documentary clip and English transcript

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

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

[mirai-e-jump]

Uchusen Vol.186 (Autumn 2024) Kamen Rider Gavv | Detail of Heroes ft. Main Cast Interviews (other pages and translations below)

Publication: October 1, 2024 (between episode 5-6)

Chinen Hidekazu (Shouma)

"Which shows from the Kamen Rider series have you seen?"

Chinen: From my generation, I watched "Kamen Rider W," "OOO," "Fourze," and "Wizard." I've been watching "Kamen Rider Zero-One," a masterpiece by Director Sugihara, who also directed the pilot of Gavv, and recently I watched "Kamen Rider Den-O" for the sake of studying.

"Who would your all time favorite Rider be?"

Chinen: Including OOO, I like alot of them, but lately I've been particularly fond of Den-O. It was really amazing to see each of the Imagin's personalities being performed by Satoh Takeru-san, the lead actor. The theme song is good too. I listen to the OP every episode without skipping it.

"Please tell us about the time of your audition for Gavv."

Chinen: We were put into pairs, one would play a role reminiscent of the food lover Shouma, and the other played a cool role similar to Hanto. During the first audition, I made a mistake. When I was supposed to do a performance where I entered the room from outside, I mistook the door for an outward opening one instead of an inward one, so I kept trying to pull it when I should've been pushing, and it ended up making alot of noise. I also heard the Producers laughing because I was having trouble getting in, but when I finally did, I continued the performance as if nothing had happened. Thinking about it now……I guess maybe that feeling of disconnect was also linked to Shouma's.

"We're sure you must've been quite flustered at that time"

Chinen: I was really flustered because of that (laughs). I was panicking quite abit because it wasn't an act, I really made a mistake. Still, I thought, "I've come this far, so let's do this!," so it might've been a good thing that I was able to accept it and give an earnest performance.

"How were you informed that you had been chosen?

Chinen: One day, my manager called me and said, "I need you to come to the office after work." I went to the office thinking, "Maybe they're upset at me for failing something?," but they said, "We have a report. We're disappointed to tell you that the final audition for Kamen Rider is no longer available." I was frustrated because I thought I had been rejected, but I still said, "I understand, I'll do my best next time." At that exact moment, the staff came through the door and shot off party poppers. That's when I asked my manager, "This isn't a dream, is it?" I pinched myself just to be sure (laughs). Even though it hurt, I couldn't believe it, and when I finally became aware of it, I felt like, "I'm the happiest guy in the world right now!"

"How did you inform your family?"

Chinen: I immediately called my mother about it. She said, "Hide, will you be okay with having the lead role?" Ever since I was little, I always said I wanted to one day play the main character in Kamen Rider. Both my mother and father supported this dream and saw me off to Tokyo. However, I really didn't think it would come true, and I think I was more worried about whether I'd be able to play the main character in such a big title before I was happy.

"Please tell us your impressions when you learned that Gavv was a Kamen Rider with a sweets motif."

Chinen: I received the proposal at the same time I was chosen to play the lead role, so that was the first time I learned about it. My first thoughts were, "A sweets Kamen Rider?" and "What will the gummies be like?" I didn't immediately understand the concept. It was the same kind of impact I felt when I first saw the orange and armor motif of "Kamen Rider Gaim." Still, when I read the proposal, it was very original and interesting. I could really feel the passion of the creators in wanting to create such a hero needed in the era we live in. I thought, "I want to be that kind of hero, and I also want to do my best!" I was impressed by the way the Rider's design incorporated gummies and potato chips, and I thought, "The person who thought this up is a genius."

"What's your absolute favorite form?"

Chinen: As of right now, it's Zakuzaku Chips. I'm a big fan of dual wielding swords, as I often use dual wielding characters in games. Also, I like the jagged potato chips on its eyes. From a distance, doesn't it look like Kamen Rider OOO? I like that about it too.

"Due to the complicated background of the character, we feel that Shouma, who you're playing, requires difficult performances. What kind of orders did the Director give you?"

Chinen: Director Sugihara said, "While he is a young man, I want him to retain a part of his innocence," and that, "He's friendly, but there seems to be a wall between his heart." He said, "He has a bright side and a dark side that he doesn't show others. I hope you can show us how well you can switch between those two personalities."

"Shouma's upbringing is one thing, but it's also cruel that the enemies he's fighting against are his family."

Chinen: Yeah, I personally think it's so cruel, that I pity Shouma. It's a harsh story for a show that's meant for small children to watch. I personally feel like it's mentally draining to play the role of blood related brothers fighting against each other as enemies. What's more, there's no escape from that fate. However, while the story and Shouma's circumstances are hard, the eating of sweets and poppin scenes help soften the situation. The gap between those scenes gives more depth to the hard story. I also try to be conscious of this when I act differently.

"It seems to strike a good balance between the poppin imagery and the hard content."

Chinen: Some fans predicted, "Is it going to be a show like Gaim?," when they saw the official announcement before the show aired. Kamen Rider productions that start out appealing to the "pop" part tend to have harsher developments (laughs). I myself don't want it to be too serious, so through trial and error, I'm still trying to figure out how to make the "pop" in Gavv stand out.

"The role sounds like a pretty high hurdle to clear."

Chinen: Still, I think it was the same for my seniors who performed in previous Riders. I believe that it's Kamen Riders who overcome their troubles, conflicts, and ordeals.

"How was filming for the transformation pose?"

Chinen: The pose was decided on three or four days before we started filming. We agreed on it through discussions among myself, Action Director Fujita-san, and Director Sugihara. In the first episode, there was no proper pose, as the transformation was done during a pinch, so the pose wasn't done until episode 2, but the transformation scene in the first episode was also very cool. Shouma's body slowly changes, and at the end, we get a closeup of his face and Gavv's mask, but he doesn't change all at once, leaving the eyes unchanged. It was very cool, and I was trembling by the way they showed the expression in my eyes until the very end! This is a special version that's only found in the first episode, so I hope you'll watch it again.

"We think that there'll also be action scenes before the transformation, but what about you?"

Chinen: The action is alot of fun……that being said though, I struggle with it quite abit. Action isn't just about being good at punching and kicking. I have to make the action visually appealing. Despite all that, I of course have to put my feelings into it. Fujita-san was by my side the whole time, and Gavv's Suit Actor Nawata Yuya-san was also always near the cameras, and he was very helpful and gave me advice like, "You did it this way before, but why don't you try it this way?" Also, I practice kyokushin karate, so that might be why I was praised for my kicks. So, when it came to direction, we also had an increase in kicking scenes. Over the next year, I'd like to improve my action skills more.

"How was post recording?"

Chinen: It was my first time, so it was much more difficult than filming. Director Sugihara spent alot of time with me for episodes 1 and 2 in particular, since they're the ones the viewers would see for the first time. After that, Director Sugihara gave me some advice. Shouts like "Hah!" and "Tah!" tend to become monotonous as it goes on, so he said, "I want to see some variation." He recommended the game "Street Fighter" as a good reference. I wrote down the shouts I thought were good in a memo and did them my own way. Naturally, I also referred to the shouts of my senior Riders.

"What's been your most passionate scene so far?"

Chinen: It would have to be the transformation scene in the first episode. Until then, the wind had been blowing so strongly, that it was like a cloud of dust, but it stopped right as it came time to do my performance. Thanks to this, we were able to shoot the cut where the wind makes Shouma's hair rise up and reveals his eyes. I also talked with Director Sugihara about it, saying, "It's a scene where the wind was on our side."

"How's the teamwork with your costars, Hino Yusuke-san and Miyabe Nozomi-san?"

Chinen: Both of them are usually friendly, but when they get in front of the cameras, they quickly switch into their roles. They're the type of people who can clearly switch on and off. Not just for Shouma, they're also my own reassuring friends.

"We were told that among the three of you, Chinen-san's plays the role of the funny guy, while Hino-san's the straight man."

Chinen: Sometimes I'll derail the conversation or make bombshell statements (laughs). Each time, Hino-san puts us back on the right track. Miyabe-san watches from a slightly removed position, but will sometimes react.

"By the way, Chinen-san, what's your favorite sweet?"

Chinen: It's gummies, naturally! However, since I'm from Okinawa, I'd also like to promote "chinsukou" and "sata andagi" (laughs).

"We'd also love to see those two appear as Gochizou."

Chinen: Will they appear?! It seems like they'd be limited to Okinawa. Of course, I'd be happy if they come out, but for now I'll just hope for it within my heart.

"Finally, please give a message directed to all the fans of Gavv."

Chinen: The story of Kamen Rider Gavv began with a young man coming from another world to the human world. I hope that you'll pay attention to how Shouma meets unique friends in the human world and grows. Especially the bond he has with his mother, family bonds is one of the themes, so if possible, I'd like you to watch it with your loved ones. If you watch it, you'll definitely want to show your love and respect to your parents. I'd like to make this a show that you can support throughout the year. I hope you'll pay attention to and enjoy the activities of not only our cast, but also the Gochizou. I look forward to your support throughout the next year!

Hino Yusuke (Hanto)

"Have you watched the Kamen Rider series?"

Hino: I have an older brother, so we had alot of transformation belts from "Kamen Rider Kuuga" and other early Heisei series at home. In terms of my generation though, it would've been "Kamen Rider Den-O." After that, I watched "Kamen Rider Kiva" and "Kamen Rider Decade."

"Who's your all time favorite Rider?"

Hino: I watched it with enthusiasm, so it'd have to be Den-O. When I was in elementary school, I commuted to school by train and was once stopped by a station attendant when I tried to walk through the ticket gate with the pass for the transformation belt (laughs).

"Did you play the role of Hanto during the audition?"

Hino: I also played the role of who I later found out was the main character, but in the end, I was frequently assigned the role of Hanto. Still, I thought his character had a cool position when they explained him to me, so I wasn't sure if he'd fit with my everyday self.

"How was it when you learned that you had been chosen?"

Hino: I was shocked because I wasn't expecting to be picked. The way my agency informed me also startled me abit. I was so happy and shocked, that I was in a state where I couldn't think straight for about five minutes.

"Did you contact your family right away?"

Hino: I was told it was okay to contact my parents as soon as I could. My mother cried and was delighted. Hearing my mother's tearful voice on the other end of the phone caused me to cry as well. My father never seemed very interested in my work, but when I told him that I had passed the audition, he exclaimed "seriously?!" in the loudest voice I had ever heard (laughs). It made me really happy when I heard that. My father's always worrying about me. I started this work when I was in high school, but was told, "You're a student, so your priority is your studies and to then go to college." However, my work became so busy, that it became difficult for me to attend college, and my parents were constantly worried about me. That's why I think I was finally able to reassure them by passing this audition, and it's a new starting point for me as well. In this day and age, TV dramas that run for a year are rare, so I'm grateful for the opportunity to participate in one, and I'll do my best this year without forgetting to keep my mind fresh.

"What was your first impression when you read the script?"

Hino: When I first heard about the motif, I thought, "What would a sweets Rider be like?" I think everyone's first guess would be a poppin, cute hero. So, while yes, the designs give off a cool, cute and modern feel, the story is very dramatic. The lives of Shouma and Hanto, who I play, will gradually overlap, and many other appealing characters appear, which always makes me wonder what will happen next. I myself look forward to the next script whenever I receive one. How will Hanto become a Kamen Rider, and how will he relate to Shouma after becoming one? I hope that you'll look forward to that.

"Did the Director give you any orders regarding your performance?"

Hino: I was told, "It's good to be more flexible." There's the way he approaches people with his fake smile when he's a freelance writer, and his "I'll crush you" anger when he confronts a Granute. It didn't matter what others would think, he told me, "I'd rather you vary his strengths and weaknesses so that he looks like a different person." At first, I thought Hanto was a cool character. It certainly looks that way when compared to Shouma and Sachika, but there are surprisingly few scenes resembling that in the show, it's more like he's clumsy around people. The Director raised the mood of my first appearance scene, up to the point where it felt like a silly older brother had appeared. That part changed the impression I had when I first received the script considerably.

"We have the impression that freelance writers are prone to being disliked, as they're always snooping around and are persistent in pestering the main character."

Hino: While I can't speak for myself, Hanto himself is a character who's teased during the show, so he's the most lovable character. He acts with conviction, and I think that's what makes him so cool, but he sometimes ends up getting nowhere, so he gets teased. And yet, when he's teased, he'll get angry and say, "Don't screw with me!," but he doesn't deny it (laughs). The reason Hanto's slowly becoming more like that may be due to the fact that my own character is starting to come out. In this sense, I feel that the synchronization with the role has risen. This way, Hanto's character has a wide range, so I'm able to play him rather freely.

"After this, Hanto reaches a major turning point when he becomes a Kamen Rider, so did you switch up your performance there?"

Hino: For Hanto, it's not so much a situation where his fate has taken a turn for the worse, it's more like his connection from the past has further unfolded. That's why rather than switching between before and after he becomes a Kamen Rider, I tried to separate his role as a freelance writer from his desire for revenge against the Granutes. To tell you the truth, after I learned about Hanto's early life, I tried to avoid "seeing" his family as much as possible in order to understand his loneliness alittle better. That's why when he confronts the Granutes, I think his eyes are pretty much burning with anger. It is of big help for him that he's surrounded by cheerful characters like the Gochizou and Sachika.

"How was the first transformation scene?"

Hino: Before his first transformation, another major event happens to Hanto which leads to him becoming a Kamen Rider. With the power he's acquired for the first time, Hanto's first transformation is a scene where he shows the anger and hatred he's been holding onto for such a long time towards the Granute. Trying to convey those emotions through my performance was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I think that Valen's transformation itself was also unrefined, unlike the image of a perfect hero with overwhelming strength. Still, he's unrefined but works as hard as he can, so I'd be happy if everyone who watches the show can feel that there's a cool feel to him. In a scene where "tears" are an important point in the direction, I was so emotional, that tears genuinely ran down my face as well. I still remember this because it was a moment when my emotions and my performance matched up.

"As Hanto, did you feel like he reached the climax from the earliest stage?"

Hino: No, no! This isn't the end of his story! (laughs). I'm sure there'll be many more climaxes from now on, and I'm personally looking forward to them.

"What did you think of Kamen Rider Valen's design?"

Hino: There was more chocolate than I expected (laughs). Despite that, it's cool. I also like that Valen is a "helmet type," while Gavv is a "mask type."

"By the way, Hino-san, what's your favorite sweet?"

Hino: Chocolate of course!

"Do you have a favorite secondary Rider from previous Riders?"

Hino: It's Kamen Rider Zeronos from Den-O. I love his "I'm pretty strong!" catchphrase! In terms of actors, I like Yoshizawa Ryo-san, who played Kamen Rider Meteor in "Kamen Rider Fourze." When you're that cool at giving a performance, you can't be beat. Director Kamihoriuchi previously told me that when Yoshizawa-san was told to "do something like this," he instantly made it his own performance instead of following instructions. He also said, "His ability to adapt was exceptional." It made me want to be an actor like him. He's a respectable person.

"We'd like to see a catchphrase from Valen as well."

Hino: Yeah. He currently doesn't have any lines that he's always saying, but I'll try to bring out Hanto's human appeal while standing beside Shouma, the hero from another world.

"Do you want to film some action of yourself before transforming?"

Hino: Action is fun! I do voluntary training on a daily basis together with Valen's Suit Actor Kaji Kotaro-san, Gavv's Nawata Yuya-san, and everyone else on the Action Team. The day before an action scene is set to be filmed, they would assist me in practicing for it. With the exception of impossible scenes, I've been challenging myself to not use a stand in.

"How's the teamwork with your co stars, Chinen-san and Miyabe-san?"

Hino: We get along very well. They're both really adorable, but they're professional actors who are reliable on set. In a good way, we're rivals and friends. I hope I can build a better relationship with them from now on.

"Not long ago you said, "It might be his own fault that Hanto's become a character who's teased," but is Hino-san himself a character who's being teased?"

Hino: Basically, I play the role of responding to Chinen-kun's jokes (laughs). However, including Miyabe-san, when the three of us are together, I sometimes play the role of a fool, and will often be the one saying, "Hey, cut it out~." That's the way things usually go. Just so you're aware, I am the oldest (laughs).

"And now finally, please give a message to all fans of Gavv."

Hino: For me, Kamen Riders are the heroes I've dreamed of being since I was a child, so I'm very happy that I'm able to be involved in this historic series. Over the next year, I'll do my best to meet and exceed everyone's expectations with sincerity, and without forgetting my original intention. I look forward to your support!

Miyabe Nozomi (Sachika)

"First, please tell us about the time of your audition for Gavv."

Miyabe: I'll be honest, the audition was a disaster. The audition script contained several assignments, each being individually numbered. At that time, act 2 was a fainting performance and act 3 was a conversation between two people, and even though I thought, "I absolutely have to pass!," I was so incredibly nervous, that I ended up doing a fainting performance for act 3. The other actor spoke to me according to the script, and that's when I realized, "This is wrong!," but it was too late. The final audition didn't go well either. The Director told me, "Act like an aunt from Osaka," but I wasn't confident that I could pull it off, and that's when I became depressed and thought, "This is a lost cause." In spite of all that, I was surprised that I was chosen.

"How did you receive the report that you had been chosen?"

Miyabe: After the audition, my manager called me to come to Ginza. As I headed there and thought, "I wonder if they're upset about something?," they messaged me with, "Take a selfie with your phone." I didn't understand what they meant and was like, "Eh? Did I gain weight or something?" but then I got a message saying, "You passed the audition." It seems that the selfie was to document me going from freaked out to smiling. I had never been so emotionally moved as I was at that moment. This video captures a memorable moment in time, so I hope to be able to release it in some form someday (laughs).

"Have you watched the Kamen Rider series?"

Miyabe: I have a younger brother who's eight years younger than me, so we watched "Kamen Rider Drive," "Ghost," and "Ex-Aid" together. After I passed the audition, I watched "Kamen Rider Gotchard" in order to study.

"We're sure your brother was happy to know that his sister was going to play a role in Kamen Rider."

Miyabe: I still haven't told my brother yet (at the time of this interview). I was given the okay to talk to them about it, so I did contact my parents right away. I plan on surprising my brother by not telling him until the official announcement.

"What were your impressions of Gavv from reading the script?"

Miyabe: Each and every character has a story to tell, so I thought it was a production that'll keep you interested even early on. That's why I can never wait for the next script. I'm sure all the viewers feel the same way.

"Did the Director give you any orders regarding your role?"

Miyabe: Along with Shouma's Chinen-kun, Director Sugihara gave us acting lessons even before filming began. Each time, I was told, "Cheerful, cheerful." It was required at the auditions, so I always try to have the cheerfulness of an Osakan aunt and the kindness that seems to embrace everyone. Sachika is a gyaru president, but I've personally lived a life with no connection to gyarus. I also wasn't the type to stand out in class. That's why after I was chosen for this role, I learned to be more like a gyaru by listening to songs with a cheerful tempo, reading gyaru magazines, and watching official Youtube channels and TikToks.

"What does Miyabe-san think a gyarus mind is?"

Miyabe: I wonder…….No matter how difficult a situation may be, you can always think, "Well, I'll figure it out!," and in a positive sense, I think it's important not to "overthink" things. A friend of mine often says, "Keep a gyaru in your heart,” and I thought it was a very good saying. Thanks to those words, I'm now able to have a gyaru named Amane Sachika reside in my heart.

"Playing the role of Amane Sachika is also a "transformation" for Miyabe-san."

Miyabe: You're right! There's quite a gap between myself and Sachika, so I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that it's a transformation for me. I've never played a role so different from my own self before, so it's fun (laughs). It's not just acting that I enjoy, but also doing alot of research for the role.

"Did you also make your hair blonde for the role of Sachika?"

Miyabe: I did. I've always had black hair, but I bleached it three times to make it blonde. At first, every time I looked in the mirror, I was like, "Who are you?" (laughs). Still, once I got used to looking at it, I started to see myself in photos as a different person from who I used to see when I had black hair. Sachika also wears heavy makeup, so you might not even notice me when I walk down the street during my private time. That's why I'm thinking of wearing colored contacts and false eyelashes in my private time so people will notice me (laughs).

"Sachika isn't a fighter, but are there any plans for action scenes?"

Miyabe: There are no particular scenes set for me, but I was once allowed to participate in an action session. I didn't do very well at the time, but I'd be happy if they could prepare some action scenes for Sachika too! Since I went through great lengths to appear in Kamen Rider, I'd like to try my hand at action.

"Would you like to transform into a Kamen Rider like Shouma and Hanto?"

Miyabe: I'd like to do that too! Recent series always have female Kamen Riders, and my dream is to be one of them. However, Sachika's a woman with a strong heart, so even if she can't transform, I'd like to use the strength of her feelings as her "weapon."

"Miyabe-san, which Rider do you like more, Gavv or Valen?"

Miyabe: That's a tough question! (laughs). Gavv's a Rider from another world, so he's incredibly strong, but when he's alone he usually ends up in a pinch. And since Valen's the one who helps him, it's like they're one and the same. So, I guess I'd go with both.

"Have you ever directly seen the Kamen Riders on set?"

Miyabe: They're so cool! Being able to see those forms up close and personal will definitely motivate me for the next year. Before I entered this set, I thought the camera work was what made the action so powerful. Naturally, there are scenes like that, but the action itself is very powerful. When I watched episodes 1 and 2, I was surprised to see that the scenes that were already powerful without CG were even more powerful with CG.

"Were there any other spectacles unique to tokusatsu heroes?"

Miyabe: The Gochizou are made by using both props and CG, so during filming of the CG scenes, Chinen-kun talks to Gochizou that aren't there. I thought that kind of performance was difficult. Still, Sachika doesn't know that the Gochizou exists. She also doesn't know about the Granutes, or that Shouma and Hanto are Kamen Riders. They're so close, yet she only knows about Kamen Riders through gossip. I can only imagine what would happen to Sachika if she knew of the Granute's existence. She might want to try to get along with them instead of fighting. Of course, she'd become angry if someone she cared about got hurt by them.

"What's been the most impressive scene up to episode 5?"

Miyabe: Sachika runs a general store, so she and Shouma do alot of jobs together. I enjoyed the scene where they were handing out flyers to advertise the ramen shop. I'm looking forward to seeing what other jobs they do in the future. I also like the scene in episode 3, where Hanto comes to Hapipare and Sachika pokes him with a toy. I thought it was a good representation of their relationship. It's not that Sachika can't read the room, as when she has to do something, she'll do it, but the mood of the place comes first (laughs).

"Hino-san himself said that Hanto's a character that everyone teases."

Miyabe: Hino-kun himself often makes the set feel more relaxed when he's teased. I also mess around with him alot (laughs). It's kind of easy to tease him, almost like there's a sense of security and that it's okay to tease him. He's the oldest out of the three of us (laughs). Chinen-kun lightens up the mood with his interesting remarks, like when he says, "That's one way of thinking about it!" Once Hino-kun gets into it, it becomes really noisy. We screw around when it's time to screw around, but we're very serious when we have to face our roles. They'll suggest things like, "Let's try this here," or "Let's practice this alittle." I'm glad that the three of us will be together on this set for a year.

"Miyabe-san, what kind of sweets do you like?"

Miyabe: I like plum types of sweets, like crunchy plums and dried plums. On days when we have filming, I'll stop by a convenience store and buy one of those before heading to the set. However, the makeup artist pointed out to me that I should be careful not to eat too much, otherwise my face might puff up (laughs).

"And now finally, please give a message to the fans of Gavv."

Miyabe: Kamen Rider Gavv is poppin and cute, and I think it's a show that'll be easy for all kinds of people to relate to. I really hope that people of all ages will watch it. Since I'm also "armed" with a gyarus mindset, I'll do my best to cheer up tons of people. I look forward to your support over the next year!

[yourchocolatenachostudent]

What he said:

How it sounds:

[kurooscoffee]

Kris Guštin For Elle Slovenia

(November-December 2024 issue, available for purchase as print or digital copy).

Please credit with link if you repost the pics on other social media!

[thissying]

10 Years of Max Verstappen, part 1/5

F1 debut and the promotion to Red Bull Racing

[earlycuntsets]

translation: "my chemical romance interview. "for us, the live stage is the only place where we can be ourselves."

The songs are like a collection of rock anthems from all over the world, past and present, and it sets the hearts of listeners ablaze.

Who is the emo band that rocked the Summer Sonic stage?

My Chemical Romance, from New Jersey, who just released their major debut album "THREE CHEERS FOR SWEET REVENGE" in July, came to Japan for the first time at Summer Sonic 04. MCR's music is called "screamo" because of their friendship with their friends, including THE USED, and their style, and it contains the street/garage sensibility unique to the generation that went through American punk in recent years… but if you listen to it with a calm ear, you can see that although the vocals are "screamo style," the songs have a beautiful structure and tearful melodies that are related to British heavy metal, and they also feature beautiful guitar solos. In other words, MCR is a band that plays heavy metal at the street level… That's why they must have been so welcomed right from the start in Japan, a country that has a strong tradition of heavy metal music (probably) - their first performance in Japan was a big success.

45 minutes after the end of the thunderous "Summer Sonic" stage

We caught up with the two excited guitarists!

I've never been to a show like that before! I'll never forget this experience.

--Now Frank Iero (FI): This isn't real.

How was the live show you just finished?

FI: Seriously! I've never done a show like that before. It was a memorable moment in my life. I'll never forget it!

--You seem very excited. What was so amazing about it?

Ray Toro: No, not "What". WTF! I mean, they were so welcoming! I wasn't expecting that kind of reaction at all. It felt like a hometown show. Oh, what can I say… ahhhh… anyway, it feels great!-- (Laughs)

Was the positive reaction because the new york was great? Especially the first single "I'm Not Okay" it's really exciting… It's a great song, and the song structure is well-crafted, building up from the intro, and the solo is uplifting too. Did you feel any magic when you made it?

FI: Well, let me tell you something. This song is something that you can't really call "written".

Really? Is that so?

FI: That's true. The song itself only has four chords, right? Except for the solo, it's all four. So at first, I thought it would be a boring song. But when we got together in the studio and Ray was playing those four chords over and over… Gerald (Way/vocals) started singing. The other members were silent. I closed my eyes and listened carefully. Then I realized it was an incredibly beautiful song. I felt it was worth completing. So I tried to change it up with the chorus. The root remained four.

---The guitar solo in this song creates a harmony with the guitar, creating a grandeur that is reminiscent of Queen. How did this come about?

FI: That solo was all Ray!

RT: Of course we were totally inspired by Queen! We were all saying, "Let's have a big guitar solo. Nobody does that anymore!" So I layered the guitars on it and made it as epic as possible. Also, when we were writing the song originally, we talked about making it as production-heavy as possible in the studio… Another thing I did consciously was to think of all the '80s pop and '70s bands I liked. I thought, "What would they do to make a song that's really epic…?" That's also where the two-second piano in the middle of the song came from. It doesn't really mean anything, but it's a bit like a soundtrack.

In terms of age, he was still very much alive.

FI: To tell you the truth, that second part is from the live album "CHEAP TRICK AT BUDOKAN" (1978) [laughs] I really wanted to include it. To begin with, even though some people have performed it live, I've never heard it performed in a studio album. I tried to include that as well and create the biggest anthem I could think of.

Q: Not just "I'm Not Okay," but all of MCR's songs…The composition is designed to make the listeners excited. They are all uplifting and dramatic. Is this something you do consciously?

FI: I'm totally aware of it.

RT: Yes. You can hear it in the song, but I change parts one after another. For example, We never repeat the same parts twice, and as the song progresses, new elements are added. We want it to feel like it's building from one thing to the next. Every member of the band contributes to that. The drums, the vocals, the melodies…everything helps the song to go higher and higher.

FI: Especially the new album, "It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's a Deathwish" crescendos all the way through. It just gets stronger and stronger. It all comes together in a spectacular finale. The whole band sings together for an anthemic ending. Because I like it! Our styles are completely different, maybe that mismatch is a good thing?

MCR's music tends to be dramatic. Is that due to the influence of the music you've listened to up until now?

RT: I grew up listening to heavy metal, like Ozzy Osbourne. I was obsessed with guitar heroes. I like bands that feature guitar players such as the late Randy Rhoads (g/Ozzy Osbourne) and Joe Satriani, Jimi Hendrix… In other words, Randy is the one who combined heavy metal with classical music, but his guitar playing I think he is the person who has had the biggest influence on my style. It's a bit old-fashioned, but it has a melody. And it's timeless. Melody.

FI: Richie Havens. My first woodstock. He was the opening act for the concert. He took me to an acoustic I just played it with one guitar, like a solo. There wasn't much, just sitting on the stool. He played very melodic and rhythmic guitar. But it's a completely unique style that can't be imitated. He had tiles… Such a great performer. I've never seen him before! I've seen Richie on stage about 10 times now, and I'm blown away every time. He's one of the reasons I don't stop playing guitar. I also love Greg Ginn (guitar/Black Flag) and Thurston Moore (vocals, guitar/Sonic Youth). In other words, I like dirty and emotional guitar more than intellectual style.

——————Hmm. You two have completely different tastes…

FI: Well, we are completely different types of guitarists, but maybe that mismatch is a good thing.

--You mentioned a lot of artists, but listening to your album I can sense a strong influence from heavy metal. But you also listen to a lot of different music from the '70s and '80s, right?

RT: Well, you can't just listen to one type of music, you know? There's so much good music out there. We can't just pretend not to notice it! All of us in the band try to listen to as much as we can and want to absorb as much as we can from all kinds of music.

FI: What we heard was an influence in some way.

FI: I like to use a Marshall JCM900 connected to a SUNN cabinet, and an Epiphone Zak Wylde model Les Paul as the only guitar. I turn up the bass all the way (laughs). Treble is about mid-range. I add gain here and there. But I like to keep it sounding like a real guitar. Not a "buzzing" sound with too much gain, but more of a solid sound.

RT: Yes! And we both try to only use effects when absolutely necessary, and usually plug them straight into the amp. Oh, but we do use wah pedals. Personally, I'd love to see the wah come back!

--I see. So with Frank on the bass and Ray raising the middle, it feels like you've managed to balance the band sound well?

FI&RT: Exactly!

FI: That's how I make it clear that there are two guitars. It's better to have a difference where you can hear each guitar part and it doesn't sound too cluttered.

――――So, let's talk about your playing, not just the guitar sound.

RT: I've been in the middle of it all. But the best thing to do is come to a show and see for yourself! I think there have been times when people thought it was Frank and it was me, and vice versa. We've influenced each other so we have some similarities.

---So you're influenced by each other's playing?

RT: Yeah. At least I got it from Frank.

I learned to play dirty. Not just clean, but more emotional. Instead of being super technical and perfect, I gave myself a little more leeway and tried to avoid feedback and pick-squeezing.

Frank is especially good at pick slides. He likes to make noise out of the guitar, rather than a pretty sound.

He's really good at bringing that out. Making noise, not just playing, is something I'm still learning.

FI: I'm the opposite, I'm learning to play clean, to keep things under control, but still let out emotion when necessary.

RT: A classic example of what you're talking about is "The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You." Frank has a really great part here. After the second chorus, it gets really quiet.

"THREE CHEERS FOR SWEET REVENGE" Warner Music Japan [CD] WPCR-11883 Sensual vocal melodies and emotional guitars, as heard on the 1st single.Their popularity is on the rise thanks to the explosive emotion of their vocals. This is the band's second album and their major label debut. Ray's strengths are in his guitar playing, which always lifts the listener up. While talking about the existing screamo sound, such as the "screamo" part, a new sense of flavoring with the essence of gothic and metal shines. And it's the same with everyday experiences! Everything that comes out of it naturally comes out in the work, and the more I shut out certain types of music or certain experiences, the less fertilizer I have. The goal is the stage. Keep playing to the limit. From what I saw on stage a while ago, the live equipment was, you both used similar things. How do you differentiate between the sounds?

RT: I'm more into distortion. I play a lot of riffs and generally like to emphasize the mid-range.

My model was the crunch guitar sound of Metallica's "Master of Puppets" (1986).

FI: On the other hand, I only use distortion to a natural degree.

Can you tell me the specific equipment names?

RT: The amps are Marshall "JCM2000" and "1960".

Cabinet. The guitar was bought by my brother for Christmas 10 years ago.

It's a very easy one to make, but the sound is great!

I also use an Epiphone Les Paul.

036 GuitarBreakers Vol.8

He said it was a good example of how the differences between the two of them are well expressed.

Can you name any?

FI: You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us

In Prison, I guess?

RT: You're right!

FI: You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us

"In Prison" is huge! The first two verses are

It's rhythmic and dirty, and then…

Ray's guitar hero-like, epic solo begins (laughs). And it has a light rhythm. And then there's "To The End" too.

RT: Yes. In some ways, I play more technically than Frank, but "To the End" has a great guitar solo, it's fast, and it's got some rhythmic, dirty parts. But I think you can hear the difference in our playing styles on every song to some extent.

---By the way, on the album, which is left and which is right?

Are you playing the channel?

RT: Well, in the verses, I mostly play on the left.

Ray is on the left. And Frank is on the right in the chorus.

Frank really blossoms in this scene. It's totally different from his previous style.

FI: Mmhmm!

---Finally, could you tell us about your future goals regarding guitar and songwriting?

FI: For now, I'd like to be able to turn the parts I've written for the next album into proper songs.

Also, we have a clear goal as a band.

But I'll keep it a secret until I achieve it (lol).

RT: For me personally, I just want to keep improving.

FI: Me too!

RT: We both love playing guitar.

That's what life is all about, so I want to keep improving both in technique and melody.

FI: For us, it was a live show that lasted less than two hours. I think that the only chance I have is to be myself, to experience a pure and spiritual moment. So my goal is to continue to play all the way to the end. There is a joy that cannot be expressed in words. I don't think you can understand it unless you have experienced it!

My Chemical Playing - A magnificent world created with guitar

The key to My Chemical Romance's songs is the twin guitars. When the two guitars intertwine, sometimes intensely and sometimes elegantly, it gives the listener a great sense of exhilaration.

Ray was crazy about guitar heroes like Randy Rhoads and Joe Satriani, while Frank loves Greg Ginn and Thurston Moore. They come from completely different backgrounds, but as Ray says, "When we get together, we don't know why, but a special atmosphere is born," which is the characteristic of the My Chemical Romance sound. In fact, Alba

If you check out his playing, you can hear many good examples of two-guitar ensemble. One of the best is the backing for "I'm Not Okay (I Promise)." As mentioned in the interview, the bass in this song is a repeat of four chords (D → Bm Em → A), but it is amazing how the performance is not at all simple. Due to space limitations, I will not post an example.

"I'm Not Okay" style guitar solo sheet music.

I'm sorry I can't introduce it, but I definitely want you to check out the ensemble in the A-melody. So, I'll introduce the solo below. This performance was inspired by Queen and was meant to be grand. The harmonies are great, but the chord progression is deliberately E/G#, even though E would have been fine in the flow. This is one of the reasons why it feels so grand.

In the harmonies from bars 1 to 8, you want to be aware of the speed at which you raise the pitch of the choking, and the speed and depth of the vibrato.

The first half of bar 12 means "play five notes in two beats."

2004 volume 8 guitar breakers from theydrewblood.blogspot.com

[vampirenicotine]

it really does all work out in the wash