Writing poetry or the lyrics to songs has never been my forte. I suppose I’m just not very good at it. The truth, though, is that I have quite a bit of experience with it. I used to play the guitar out on the street from time to time, and I would sing songs I wrote myself. In fact, I wrote, arranged, and recorded over a hundred songs all on my own. For a time, I genuinely believed I’d make a living with my music. Then I gave it all up and started writing novels instead.
Why did I give up? One reason was that I never liked my own singing voice. In retrospect, the fact that I got my start singing on the street without a microphone may have held me back. I didn’t know anything about proper microphone technique—my strategy was to prioritize being as loud as possible. Looking back on it now, that was probably a mistake.
The other big reason was that I never felt satisfied with my own songs. I was bad at composing, and my lyrics were basic and unpolished. Eventually, I decided I simply wasn’t cut out to be a musician. No amount of effort would change that, so I accepted the fact that I had no talent and washed my hands of it all.
I tried writing novels next and found myself doing much better than I had at writing songs. I never understood what to do to improve my music, but novels were a totally different beast. It struck me that I’d always been something of a reader, ever since I was a kid, and I had quite a wealth of experience to draw upon for reference.
Yes, I’d been listening to music my whole life as well, but thanks to my uncle’s influence, I’d always leaned toward western music. I used to play it out on the street, too. I’d sing the Beatles and Oasis songs all the time, plus an assortment of various go-to oldies. I even played songs by Nirvana, Aerosmith, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers—older bands but ones you might be familiar with—which were probably a little too intense for street performances. I definitely got my fair share of doubtful looks from passersby. I never had a clear idea of what the English lyrics I was singing actually meant, either. I just sang them by feel, more or less. Oh, and somehow, I could sing a song literally hundreds of times and still fail to fully memorize its lyrics.
As for poems, I never had any interest in them at all—not even the compiled works of famous masters. I don’t really understand haiku or waka poetry, either. Whatever it is that gives people the ability to appreciate poetry on an aesthetic level, I suspect I was born without it.
So to get back to the point: I’ve always had a fairly serious sense of inferiority when it comes to writing songs and poems. This time, however, developments in the story made it mandatory for me to do so, and I reluctantly gave it my best shot. I genuinely have no idea whether the lyrics I wrote turned out well or poorly. S (and I) accept full blame for the quality of our work or lack thereof. I’ve developed a whole new appreciation for just how incredible Eve is…
Finally, I’d like to extend my heartfelt thanks to Eve and all his staff; to Mariyasu; to this series’ illustrator, lack; to my editor, Nakamichi; and to everyone who decided to read this novel. I hope to see you again in the next volume.
Ao Juumonji