– Do you enjoy recording?
[It depends on the studio. There are studios I could stay in forever, and there are others where I can’t wait to be done so I can go home.]
– What makes for a good environment in a recording studio?
[It’s best if there’s a lot of space to relax in. Having a sofa is crucial. Sofas that are uncomfortable to sit and sleep on are the worst. Cause, sometimes I start thinking I’d like a nap, so I want to be able to get a good nap in at the studio. I don’t lie down to sleep, I just sleep while sitting. So uncomfortable sofas tire me out. I guess that’s a weird thing to be picky about.]
– Is that because your work takes such a long time?
[I can fall asleep anytime, anywhere. Hearing so much sound makes me sleepy, you know? Doesn’t going to lives make you sleepy? (laughs) It’s a great feeling, sleeping through explosion noises. I sleep a lot when I go to concerts. But, let’s not talk about that (laughs).]
– What makes recording sessions interesting?
[The process of slowly, progressively giving shape to something new is lots of fun. Songs, they come from a variety of different sounds, but gradually turn into something entirely different. Even I don’t always know what I’m going to contribute, but when it turns out even better than I’d imagined, it’s incredibly fun. The same goes for when we do the dubbing for things I came up with myself, and then the other members give their input, new sounds go into it, and there’s another transformation.]
– Does recording go any differently depending on whether it’s for L’Arc~en~Ciel or TETSU69?
[For my solo work, I make 100% of the decisions, so things get done a lot faster. With L’Arc, there are four of us in the band. We each have our own songs, and I participate as the bassist, giving my own opinion, but it’s comparatively not as simple. But our differences make it interesting.]
– L’Arc~en~Ciel’s first album ‘DUNE’ was released in 1993, over ten years ago. Have your recording methods changed over that period?
[Technology has advanced a lot, and that’s changed things, but I don’t think it’s only that. I think it feels different than it did back then. There were periods when we scrutinized everything carefully, others where we let it sound rough, we’ve had all sorts of different periods, so I think this is just another time around. If I had to compare, I’d say this one was simpler, probably.]
– When you’re doing vocals at a recording, what sort of condition do you have to be in?
[For my physical condition, it helps a lot to get as much sleep as possible the day before, and right before the recording, I warm myself up, because that helps keep my body relaxed.]
– Do you give yourself an emotional boost?
[I wouldn’t say I get very emotional, but being in the right mood helps me get my throat into the best possible condition.]
– Do you like the lighting to be dim, or the mics to be set up a certain way, or have any particular preferences like that?
[Not really, no.]
– When you sing, do you let yourself get pulled into the world of that song, or do you take a more instrumental approach, or perhaps something else entirely
[I think my approach is more instrumental, rather technical.]
– How many takes do you need to record something?
[The normal amount, I think. I don’t use too many takes to record, but not that few either. Well, I think my voice sounds smoother in the earlier takes. After singing the same thing too many times, my voice starts to loose its luster, but that happens to everyone, doesn’t it? But my throat is surprisingly strong, so I can sing for a long time and not get all that hoarse. Though, sometimes I can sing the part over and over and still not get a good take. Usually, I get a certain number of takes done, then listen to them all and select the one that turned out best. But lately, for recording, it hasn’t been getting the takes that drags on, I think it’s mostly been the editing.]
– Could you explain some points about the editing?
[That really varies from part to part, so I can’t say there’s any constant rule to it. For example, the vocal nuance from some part would fit better in a different part. It changes from place to place. Like, the pitch in this part will be a little high, but it sounds good, and the rhythm in another part would be better off standing out more. It all comes down to going through the song piece by piece and deciding what would suit that song best. I mean, recording a song is kind of similar to producing something in a factory. That’s how I’d like to think of it (laughs). Of course, when listening to the finished product, that process isn’t even remotely detectable, but that’s because it’s had finishing touches put on by professionals. Singing by getting wrapped up in emotions… that might not apply exclusively to Enka. Today’s recording techniques, and post-recording too, have done a lot to raise the level of polish we can achieve. I think it’s only natural that we constantly aim to produce better things. I think it applies to recording, too. If you think of it the same way as a live show, it won’t work. I think a live performance and recording studio work are completely different things. Recording work is different from lives because you can try it over and over again, you can take your time, and if you don’t like how it turns out, you can just start over. As long as you have the time and budget. You get the chance to build something. Of course, it’s always possible that it’ll be a rough process. With the help of technology, all sorts of creations are possible. It’s not like lives, where you have to be able to apply your judgement every instant. You can sleep on it, then come back the next day with a better idea. That’s what recording is all about.]
– However, you also need the ability to judge which takes are good, because you’ll have problems if you don’t have that sense of what’s OK, right?
[That’s right. In the end, I think it’s crucial to be able to do it all over until I can listen to it without feeling like something’s off. No compromises. Naturally, that means being able to listen to the piece from beginning to end without finding any worrisome bits, bits that need work, or bits that are no good at all. But before you can do any of that, you need that judgemental sense. You need to have a good ear, the same way you need an artist’s heart to paint. It’s not just a matter of using the right pitch for a given song. There are always cases where you might find that something a bit sharper or flatter works better. To fit the music, that is. Similarly, you can play around with power levels, handle your strings differently, modify your picking a little, and the sound will vary. If you want a certain part to sound stronger, you can try playing a little bit ahead of the rhythm, which speeds it up so it sounds cooler, but you can’t do that without a good sense of composition and structure, and you also need perseverance. Because recording is a process that gradually evolves, you need to be able to change your methods. I think being an artist, giving such precise attention to every piece of work feels like Sennin’s work secluded in the mountains (1). Because there’s still so much to do after the recording itself. And there are budget and timing considerations too. And it can happen that as the song progresses, rougher bits turn out to fit better. It’s like how you never want to eat nothing but French cuisine. Sometimes you want to eat junk food. If you feel like making junk food, that’s what you’ll be aiming for. That sort of thing happens with recording. That’s why I don’t think I get particularly wrapped up in the emotion behind a song.]
– But once it is completed, don’t you find yourself getting pulled back into the song because of the emotion being communicated through it?
[Well, of course, when it’s a human being singing, I don’t think it’s possible to never feel anything from it. But consciously, I don’t think I quite get pulled into its emotions, as you say. The phrase “I love you” can be in the lyrics, but thinking “I love you” isn’t the same thing as singing it. It doesn’t mean as much to me.]
– But for instance, if you were to sing “white snowflakes falling,” and got a sad feeling from picturing a scene with that falling snow, wouldn’t you expect that feeling of sadness to colour your singing voice?
[No, I don’t think that’s emotion, but rather the power of language. The soul of the words. When a voice utters the words “white snow,” somehow it brings the soul of those words to life. So I don’t think its necessary to put any human emotion into singing “white snow”; it’s enough just to sing it and the words will evoke that scenery on their own. That happens once the words are heard. The end result can accomplish that every time someone listens to it. Even if there was no emotional input while singing, those feelings will come through upon listening.]
– So then, aren’t you effectively saying you don’t get emotional at all about what you’re singing?
[When Kitano Takeshi-san(2) makes a movie, I’ve heard that he doesn’t explain what kind of acting he wants to see for each scene, but just tells his actors to perform. So actually, the actors just go along with the setting and do what they can without really knowing what he expects of them. When they get to see the results, they go “Wow, so that’s what kind of scene it was!” Even though they didn’t originally think their acting would turn out that way. Sometimes, I think that’s a good way to go about things. Just going along with the sounds, instead.]
– Because focusing too much on the goal makes it harder to actually reach.
[But sometimes it can go wrong, right? If you purposely drift off, you’ll start to mess up, and next thing you know you’re singing Enka. And getting emotional isn’t such a good thing when playing the music, either. It’s like that for bass and for singing. But sometimes I’ll space out, and next thing I know someone’s telling me “OK, we’re done.” When that happens, even though I wasn’t paying attention at all, I’m told “Wow, that was awesome.” That happens to me a lot.]
– It might be a state of self-effacement (3).
[Somehow, whenever I talk about music, it ends up turning into philosophy (laughs).]
-Interviewer : Hasegawa Makoto
Translated by Natalie Arnold.
[It depends on the studio. There are studios I could stay in forever, and there are others where I can’t wait to be done so I can go home.]
– What makes for a good environment in a recording studio?
[It’s best if there’s a lot of space to relax in. Having a sofa is crucial. Sofas that are uncomfortable to sit and sleep on are the worst. Cause, sometimes I start thinking I’d like a nap, so I want to be able to get a good nap in at the studio. I don’t lie down to sleep, I just sleep while sitting. So uncomfortable sofas tire me out. I guess that’s a weird thing to be picky about.]
– Is that because your work takes such a long time?
[I can fall asleep anytime, anywhere. Hearing so much sound makes me sleepy, you know? Doesn’t going to lives make you sleepy? (laughs) It’s a great feeling, sleeping through explosion noises. I sleep a lot when I go to concerts. But, let’s not talk about that (laughs).]
– What makes recording sessions interesting?
[The process of slowly, progressively giving shape to something new is lots of fun. Songs, they come from a variety of different sounds, but gradually turn into something entirely different. Even I don’t always know what I’m going to contribute, but when it turns out even better than I’d imagined, it’s incredibly fun. The same goes for when we do the dubbing for things I came up with myself, and then the other members give their input, new sounds go into it, and there’s another transformation.]
– Does recording go any differently depending on whether it’s for L’Arc~en~Ciel or TETSU69?
[For my solo work, I make 100% of the decisions, so things get done a lot faster. With L’Arc, there are four of us in the band. We each have our own songs, and I participate as the bassist, giving my own opinion, but it’s comparatively not as simple. But our differences make it interesting.]
– L’Arc~en~Ciel’s first album ‘DUNE’ was released in 1993, over ten years ago. Have your recording methods changed over that period?
[Technology has advanced a lot, and that’s changed things, but I don’t think it’s only that. I think it feels different than it did back then. There were periods when we scrutinized everything carefully, others where we let it sound rough, we’ve had all sorts of different periods, so I think this is just another time around. If I had to compare, I’d say this one was simpler, probably.]
– When you’re doing vocals at a recording, what sort of condition do you have to be in?
[For my physical condition, it helps a lot to get as much sleep as possible the day before, and right before the recording, I warm myself up, because that helps keep my body relaxed.]
– Do you give yourself an emotional boost?
[I wouldn’t say I get very emotional, but being in the right mood helps me get my throat into the best possible condition.]
– Do you like the lighting to be dim, or the mics to be set up a certain way, or have any particular preferences like that?
[Not really, no.]
– When you sing, do you let yourself get pulled into the world of that song, or do you take a more instrumental approach, or perhaps something else entirely
[I think my approach is more instrumental, rather technical.]
– How many takes do you need to record something?
[The normal amount, I think. I don’t use too many takes to record, but not that few either. Well, I think my voice sounds smoother in the earlier takes. After singing the same thing too many times, my voice starts to loose its luster, but that happens to everyone, doesn’t it? But my throat is surprisingly strong, so I can sing for a long time and not get all that hoarse. Though, sometimes I can sing the part over and over and still not get a good take. Usually, I get a certain number of takes done, then listen to them all and select the one that turned out best. But lately, for recording, it hasn’t been getting the takes that drags on, I think it’s mostly been the editing.]
– Could you explain some points about the editing?
[That really varies from part to part, so I can’t say there’s any constant rule to it. For example, the vocal nuance from some part would fit better in a different part. It changes from place to place. Like, the pitch in this part will be a little high, but it sounds good, and the rhythm in another part would be better off standing out more. It all comes down to going through the song piece by piece and deciding what would suit that song best. I mean, recording a song is kind of similar to producing something in a factory. That’s how I’d like to think of it (laughs). Of course, when listening to the finished product, that process isn’t even remotely detectable, but that’s because it’s had finishing touches put on by professionals. Singing by getting wrapped up in emotions… that might not apply exclusively to Enka. Today’s recording techniques, and post-recording too, have done a lot to raise the level of polish we can achieve. I think it’s only natural that we constantly aim to produce better things. I think it applies to recording, too. If you think of it the same way as a live show, it won’t work. I think a live performance and recording studio work are completely different things. Recording work is different from lives because you can try it over and over again, you can take your time, and if you don’t like how it turns out, you can just start over. As long as you have the time and budget. You get the chance to build something. Of course, it’s always possible that it’ll be a rough process. With the help of technology, all sorts of creations are possible. It’s not like lives, where you have to be able to apply your judgement every instant. You can sleep on it, then come back the next day with a better idea. That’s what recording is all about.]
– However, you also need the ability to judge which takes are good, because you’ll have problems if you don’t have that sense of what’s OK, right?
[That’s right. In the end, I think it’s crucial to be able to do it all over until I can listen to it without feeling like something’s off. No compromises. Naturally, that means being able to listen to the piece from beginning to end without finding any worrisome bits, bits that need work, or bits that are no good at all. But before you can do any of that, you need that judgemental sense. You need to have a good ear, the same way you need an artist’s heart to paint. It’s not just a matter of using the right pitch for a given song. There are always cases where you might find that something a bit sharper or flatter works better. To fit the music, that is. Similarly, you can play around with power levels, handle your strings differently, modify your picking a little, and the sound will vary. If you want a certain part to sound stronger, you can try playing a little bit ahead of the rhythm, which speeds it up so it sounds cooler, but you can’t do that without a good sense of composition and structure, and you also need perseverance. Because recording is a process that gradually evolves, you need to be able to change your methods. I think being an artist, giving such precise attention to every piece of work feels like Sennin’s work secluded in the mountains (1). Because there’s still so much to do after the recording itself. And there are budget and timing considerations too. And it can happen that as the song progresses, rougher bits turn out to fit better. It’s like how you never want to eat nothing but French cuisine. Sometimes you want to eat junk food. If you feel like making junk food, that’s what you’ll be aiming for. That sort of thing happens with recording. That’s why I don’t think I get particularly wrapped up in the emotion behind a song.]
– But once it is completed, don’t you find yourself getting pulled back into the song because of the emotion being communicated through it?
[Well, of course, when it’s a human being singing, I don’t think it’s possible to never feel anything from it. But consciously, I don’t think I quite get pulled into its emotions, as you say. The phrase “I love you” can be in the lyrics, but thinking “I love you” isn’t the same thing as singing it. It doesn’t mean as much to me.]
– But for instance, if you were to sing “white snowflakes falling,” and got a sad feeling from picturing a scene with that falling snow, wouldn’t you expect that feeling of sadness to colour your singing voice?
[No, I don’t think that’s emotion, but rather the power of language. The soul of the words. When a voice utters the words “white snow,” somehow it brings the soul of those words to life. So I don’t think its necessary to put any human emotion into singing “white snow”; it’s enough just to sing it and the words will evoke that scenery on their own. That happens once the words are heard. The end result can accomplish that every time someone listens to it. Even if there was no emotional input while singing, those feelings will come through upon listening.]
– So then, aren’t you effectively saying you don’t get emotional at all about what you’re singing?
[When Kitano Takeshi-san(2) makes a movie, I’ve heard that he doesn’t explain what kind of acting he wants to see for each scene, but just tells his actors to perform. So actually, the actors just go along with the setting and do what they can without really knowing what he expects of them. When they get to see the results, they go “Wow, so that’s what kind of scene it was!” Even though they didn’t originally think their acting would turn out that way. Sometimes, I think that’s a good way to go about things. Just going along with the sounds, instead.]
– Because focusing too much on the goal makes it harder to actually reach.
[But sometimes it can go wrong, right? If you purposely drift off, you’ll start to mess up, and next thing you know you’re singing Enka. And getting emotional isn’t such a good thing when playing the music, either. It’s like that for bass and for singing. But sometimes I’ll space out, and next thing I know someone’s telling me “OK, we’re done.” When that happens, even though I wasn’t paying attention at all, I’m told “Wow, that was awesome.” That happens to me a lot.]
– It might be a state of self-effacement (3).
[Somehow, whenever I talk about music, it ends up turning into philosophy (laughs).]
-Interviewer : Hasegawa Makoto
Translated by Natalie Arnold.
Žádné komentáře:
Okomentovat