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Rock and Read vol.087 キズ(KIZU) Lime interview (Dec 2019)

Scans by: @yridenergyridenergy

Interview by—Atsuhiko Kamiya.

Interviewer: It’s been about a year and a half since your last appearance in this magazine.

Lime: I don’t remember at all what we talked about last time (laughs). I think a lot has changed since then, so feel free to dig deep, even into the parts you probably shouldn’t.

Interviewer: Today, I’d like to focus not just on your music but on your experiences overseas, which shaped who you are now. I think songs like KuroiAme and Jusei are not something you could have created if you had only ever lived in Japan.

Lime: I don’t think I’ve talked much about this yet. But yeah, my experiences abroad have definitely influenced Kizu’s music. I’ve lived overseas before, and even now, whenever I get the chance, I like to visit different countries.

Interviewer: When was the first time you went overseas?

Lime: It all started when I studied abroad in the UK as a student. There, I studied English, but I didn’t want to speak it. At the time, I was determined to get by with just Japanese and gestures. I was basically like, “You guys should learn my language” (laughs).

Interviewer: You were already in combat mode (laughs).

Lime: But one day, I just wanted to eat potato chips, and my attitude totally changed. I saw "chips" on the menu and ordered it, but what I got was French fries. I was so shocked, like “I can’t even eat what I want?!” So I started learning English.

Interviewer: So, food was your driving force (laughs).

Lime: Yes, and the food in the UK is awful. I can say this because I’ve actually experienced it myself (laughs). Their staple food is potatoes, and out there, people would say, “If you can’t cook potatoes in 100 different ways, you can’t get married.” I just thought, “I don’t need to learn how to cook any of that��� because it all tastes so bad (laughs). I’m the type to straight-up say, “I hate this” but I want to say it after I actually know it. I don’t want to just say “I hate it” based on a feeling. I decide if I hate something or not only after studying or experiencing it.

Interviewer: What made you study abroad?

Lime: My parents sent me off. I was kind of a troublemaker, I think they were hoping to reform me. But, influenced by things over there, I got worse (laughs).

Interviewer: So it powered you up instead (laughs). How did you improve your language skills?

Lime: I think it was a mix of food frustrations and puberty. You know, that age when you really want to talk to cute girls (laughs). At the time, there was a girl I liked. Even though we didn’t speak the same language, I still wanted to talk to her. That’s what got me into learning deeper, everyday conversations. That experience shaped most of my English skills today. There’s a big difference between studying because you want to be able to speak and studying because you have something you want to say. I had things I wanted to say, and I wanted to express my feelings. I’ve always hated studying in general, including studying English.

Interviewer: Were you influenced by music in any way?

Lime: Back then, karaoke didn’t exist in the UK. If you wanted to sing a song, you had to play it yourself. The whole garage band culture was what first got me started in music. That was in middle school. Then, in high school back in Japan, my homeroom teacher was a foreigner who spoke English. I was in a special class that had eight different subjects taught entirely in English. That’s when I realized—just knowing how to speak English isn’t enough, it’s meaningless if I don’t have a skill that holds up globally. And I had nothing. Oh, and while I was studying abroad, I got hit on the forehead with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Ended up needing two or three stitches.

Interviewer: You got hit with a whiskey bottle? What happened?

Lime: I don't know. Some crazy things happen over there, things that would never happen in Japan. But through those experiences, I realized that you can’t truly understand Japan or Japanese people unless you go overseas. That’s when I started wanting to see the world. I’d only been living inside such a small world and I wanted to look beyond it and try to find a place where I felt accepted.

Interviewer: So was it a feeling of wanting to experience a different world?

Lime: Yeah. After seeing so many different things, I started thinking, I don’t want to die confined on this island called Japan. I was born in this country and happened to speak Japanese, but that doesn’t mean I have to live here.

Interviewer: Do people tell you that you have a broad perspective?

Lime: They do, but I don’t think of it that way. You don’t learn the real truth about a place in school, right? The world history taught in Japan is completely different from the world history taught overseas. Every country teaches its history in a way that makes itself look good. When you think about it like that, you can't trust the media like TV either. In Japan, people grow up watching the same TV shows, learning from the same textbooks, and being taught by parents who were raised in the same system. Before you know it, you lose the ability to judge what is right and what is wrong. Because of that, I started traveling a lot.

Interviewer: So you realized that both education and media present just one side of the story.

Lime: Right, all I was left with was distrust. I can only believe what I see with my own eyes. No matter how advanced the internet gets, I still can’t trust anything I haven’t seen for myself. I’ve always been distrustful and at this point, the only things I trust are myself and my dog (laughs).

Interviewer: Even if people see the same thing, their thoughts and feelings about it can be completely different.

Lime: That happens a lot. But from my perspective, I think I’m looking at things in a straightforward way. In Japan, the streets are safe, and you can go to bed knowing you’ll wake up tomorrow without worry. But when you go to unstable countries, you start thinking about how to protect yourself, how to avoid danger, and all the risks that exist around you. Maybe because of that, I’ve also started thinking more seriously about the band.

Interviewer: You mean thinking about potential dangers in your activities as a band?

Lime: Yes, I try to eliminate as many uncertainties as possible. Kizu often does new things, right? And when you try something new, there’s always the risk of unexpected problems—like, “Ah, I didn’t see that coming.”

Interviewer: You’ve also mentioned practicing instruments in case something happens to a band member. Maybe that’s why you’ve been playing guitar more often during live shows.

Lime: Yeah, the number of songs where I play guitar has definitely increased. I hate myself for being too busy singing. There are times when I can't give my all just by singing. I started thinking, If I push myself and play guitar while singing, maybe the way my message comes across will change. Because of that, I’ve been playing the guitar a lot more.

Interviewer: The idea of being too busy singing is something I can’t quite understand, can you put that into more words?

Lime: Hmm. If I focus too much on singing, it just becomes a performance of singing beautifully. Even if there’s a deep message behind it, only the skill of singing is conveyed. This is difficult to explain (laughs). I don’t want people to just hear it with their ears—I want them to feel it with their hearts.

Interviewer: So there’s a difference between the two.

Lime: A huge difference. Just because someone sings well doesn’t mean their message gets through. On the other hand, there are times where the vocals are objectively bad, they’re just screaming, but it hits you right in the heart. There was a time when I was focused on just singing well, too. I realized that if I play difficult guitar parts while singing, I’m less conscious of my singing.

Interviewer: Saitama's Shoumetsu, that live felt incredibly intense, and it seemed like your vocal delivery played a big role in that.

Lime: I’m just going to say this straight up—Kizu today is way beyond that. Right now, our performances are the best they’ve ever been. I want people to see what we’re doing now. There are various ways to perform live, but lately, I feel like we’ve truly established what Kizu live is. It’s become so clear that I can easily explain it. Think of it like a glass. If that glass isn’t full of our emotions, we have nothing to pour out to the audience. In the past, Kizu was trying to give away emotions before the glass was even full. So by the second or third song, we were already empty. But now, the current Kizu performs by overflowing—we’re spilling emotions from a full glass.

Interviewer: Sounds like your whole approach to live shows has changed.

Lime: It has, from the very beginning. Now, our shows begin with the four of us just enjoying playing together. By the second or third song, we’ve established our sound and atmosphere as a group, and then we start releasing that energy outward.

Interviewer: So first, you fill yourselves up, and then what overflows spreads throughout the venue.

Lime: That's right. The four of us have talked about this a lot. And if you take it further, it all starts with me. When Kizu first began, I was singing to the front row—my fans. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized, Wait, the most important fans are right here beside me. My bandmates are my biggest fans. So I started singing songs to move them first—songs that would electrify them. And if they are genuinely moved by it, then throwing that to the audience would make for a completely different kind of live experience.

Interviewer: So, you focus on delivering the emotion to the people closest to you first.

Lime: Yeah, there’s a certain order to it. Honestly, I wonder why I didn’t realize it sooner. I should have understood it back when we first formed the band, “Wait, these guys are my fans.” But this isn’t just about bandmate love or something light like that. It's something that's natural.

Interviewer: So it’s not meant to be a touching story.

Lime: It’s just something fundamental to being in a band. I went through several band breakups before I finally figured it out. Like, “You’re playing guitar, but you’re actually my fan” (laughs). This is the biggest thing that’s changed in the last year and a half.

Interviewer: When I interviewed your bandmates, it really came through how much they love and respect you.

Lime: I haven’t read that. Maybe that’s what I’m still lacking (laughs).

Interviewer: Should I print it out for you? (laughs)

Lime: Hahaha! It’s like the fan letters. I read them properly now, but in the past, I'd only skim through. It's a bit cold, but I just didn’t have the mental space to really think about the core of the band or how live performances should be.

Interviewer: Why do you think you didn’t have the mental space back then?

Lime: The name “Kizu” started taking on a life of its own. I was someone who always said, “As long as I can play lives at places like Ikebukuro EDGE, I’m happy.” Then suddenly, we were doing a solo show at Zepp Tokyo and I felt completely thrown off. I don’t think about business at all, that’s something the adults handle, like promotions and all that. For me, it’s enough to just sing the music I love and express what I want to say. Kizu exists in this setup where the adults turn my personal passion into a business. So, how do I put this… hmm… I just kept doing what I wanted and... Suddenly my head is spinning (laughs).

Interviewer: As soon as we got into business talk, you slowed down (laughs).

Lime: What were we talking about again? Oh, right! What I wanted to say was, “It wasn't supposed to be like this.” I was just playing the music I loved, but the people around me were like, “Go bigger! Keep pushing forward!”

Interviewer: So you don’t care about the numbers.

Lime: I care more about what we can do at a live rather than if it sells out or not. But at the same time, if I’m singing what I love and expressing what I truly want to say, it’s only natural that more people would be drawn to it.

Interviewer: Real honesty pulls people in, doesn’t it?

Lime: I’m glad that what I want to express isn’t something narrow. At first, I thought maybe it would only resonate with 20 or 30 people. KuroiAme was like that too. But then fans overseas started responding, and I thought, “Wow, I’m really glad I put it out there.”

Interviewer: KuroiAme made you realize it.

Lime: At first, I started writing it because I wanted to redefine my own view on life. I wasn’t thinking about singing it to the world or anything like that. Lyrically, I had never been able to surpass Oshimai. That song completely redefined my perspective on life. Sure, other songs have their own strengths, different from Oshimai, but if you asked if they redefine my worldview, the answer is no. But now, if there’s one song I want to dedicate my life to singing, it’s KuroiAme.

Interviewer: So KuroiAme redefined your outlook on life.

Lime: It feels so perfect that I thought, 'Was I born to write this song? Did I start this band just so I could sing this song?' As I sang about Japan’s pain and saw the pain of the world, I wanted to reach more people, so naturally, I found myself singing in English.

Interviewer: BLACK RAIN is your first song in English.

Lime: Yeah, I sang it in English for the first time in Shanghai and Taipei. That’s when I realized KuroiAme isn’t just for Japan, it resonates beyond that. So we decided to record it in English.

Interviewer: So it started by reaching the people right in front of you, and before you knew it, it had reached so many others.

Lime: Isn’t that the natural progression? I don’t like doing things that leave out the people right in front of me. There are too many things in band life that feel unnatural. Like battle-of-the-bands shows, I want to do them if there’s a natural reason or a story behind it. But a lot of the time, it’s just, “Our audience numbers are about the same, so let’s play together.” That’s why those events end up feeling dull, and people don't want to come.

Interviewer: The idea of “We match in scale, so let’s do a show together” sounds very business-like.

Lime: Right. That’s why we don’t do anniversary lives. I don’t see anything celebratory about it, and it feels unnatural, so we don’t do it. But if the fans really want to celebrate and organize something, I’ll go. The people who want to celebrate should be the ones to organize it. That feels natural to me. Saying, “Hey, it’s my birthday! Celebrate me!” that’s way too American, I could never do that (laughs). Besides, after doing it so many times, I've come to think that it's meaningless. I mean, what’s the point of a show that’s like, “Yay, we're all happy to celebrate! Okay, time to go home!” (laughs)

Interviewer: I feel like you just made a lot of enemies (laughs).

Lime: But it’s true! “Everyone’s happy! Now let’s all go home!”—what’s the point? (laughs) I mean, I think it’s fine to do that sometimes, it’s not bad. But when I read letters from fans afterward, they all say the same thing: “It was great.” And really, what am I supposed to say besides “Thanks for celebrating”? So it's just shallow exchanges. Oh, and there’s something else I think is totally pointless.

Interviewer: I’m a little scared to hear it with this energy (laughs).

Lime: One time, a staff member at a local live house saw a packed Kizu show and said, “It’d be nice if you could do this every six months or so, on a regular basis.” But if a band keeps playing just because they can pull numbers, even when they have nothing to say, they’re just burning themselves out. And eventually, they start fading. Fans aren’t stupid, they notice. Because of that, I don’t want to go on another tour, unless I have something more to say,

Interviewer: I was just about to ask about the scene, but we naturally arrived here.

Lime: Yeah. Just like how I used to be in the past, the current scene is full of unnatural things. Even what we think is natural now might not seem natural in the future. I might end up saying, “Aren’t live shows kind of unnatural? Pulling in electricity for the lights and guitars and amplifying your voice!”

Interviewer: You might say “We don’t need microphones!” (laughs).

Lime: Hahaha! I might be like, “Gotta sing the way you were born!” (laughs). The boundaries of what’s considered visual kei are so unclear, right? The only thing we have in common is makeup. Everyone’s singing about totally different things, so even if we’re performing on the same stage, it sometimes feels unnatural. The message, the form of expression, the intent—none of it aligns. I end up thinking “This is a completely different genre.”

Interviewer: It seems like it's no longer a genre where everyone can be lumped together.

Lime: That's right. I feel like we’re in the period where something new is supposed to emerge, branching off from visual kei. Not so much “let’s make something new from within visual kei to revitalize it,” but more like, “this branch of visual kei is going to spread globally.” Right now is the time we really have to persevere, honestly, being born in such times is tough.

Interviewer: You’re carrying a lot on your shoulders.

Lime: I don’t think of it that way, and I don’t want to carry anything either. I don’t want to bear the weight of something I can’t even define. But I’ve never wanted to be called just a rock band, nor have I ever hated being part of visual kei. If anything, I take more pride in being visual kei than most people. People talk about “breaking away from visual kei,” but I’ve never felt the need to do that. While touring for Shoumetsu, I started feeling even more strongly that if we stay true to our own sense of what's right, something new will naturally emerge.

Interviewer: What kind of evolution do you imagine when you say “something branching out from visual kei”?

Lime: I don’t think it’s something we imagine or create. It’s something the fans will feel and shape. I’m not someone who can construct it. All I can do is sing what I want to sing and express what I need to express, my bandmates feel the same way. That said, I do hope that where we end up is set apart from everything else.

Interviewer: What do you mean by “set apart”?

Lime: I'm not sure how to put it, but it’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about recently, and it ties into why I don’t like saying “thank you” at live shows. There are shows where it’s appropriate to end with “thank you,” and shows where it’s not. People often misunderstand this, but when I feel like I was able to express what I wanted to express, and the fans truly received it, I don’t think “thank you” is necessary.

Interviewer: It’s not about saying “Thank you for receiving my message”?

Lime: That's right! That kind of “thank you” actually dilutes the emotions felt in the live. I want people to leave the show carrying the feelings as they are. It's meaningless if a show ends with “Thanks for coming! Everyone's happy!” (laughs).

Interviewer: Are you trying to make “everyone's happy!” your enemy? (laughs)

Lime: No, no, no! (laughs) But I do want to say that “thank you” has the power to cancel out what was felt in a live show. Honestly, I think it’s fine if people leave in the middle of our shows. For example, at Shoumetsu in Reiki’s hometown of Niigata, our setlist had about 12 songs, but by the seventh song, I already felt like we had conveyed everything we needed to. So I thought, “What do we do? Should we just leave?” (laughs) It’s not that I didn’t want to play anymore, it was more like, “We've accomplished it. Now go home with that feeling!” (laughs)

Interviewer: So you want the band and fans to connect, understand each other, and leave at the peak of that shared experience?

Lime: Exactly! Because the show was that good, I genuinely felt like leaving by the seventh song. But, in the end, I got carried away and turned into a happy guy anyway. (laughs)

Interviewer: After all that talk attacking “happiness” (laughs)

Lime: Hahaha! We had planned only one encore song, but ended up playing three more.

Interviewer: Would you say that’s what feels natural for a band and a live show?

Lime: Yes. Whether it’s the live show itself, or where the band ends up, or even how visual kei evolves—we just don’t know. Even with tours, I want to let things unfold naturally. Right now, our tour is titled Shoumetsu (Disappearance), but in the end, it might take on a completely different meaning than what we intended. At Zepp Tokyo, I titled the show Sayonara because I wanted to say goodbye to the other version of myself who had been protecting the weaker me until now. But in the end, I couldn’t say goodbye. No matter how determined you are, things don’t always turn out the way you want.

Interviewer: That's different from "not making an effort."

Lime: Yeah. Both live shows and music are living things. Sometimes, they land in a place beyond what we could ever imagine. Live shows are living things and what happens in the moment is what really matters. The message behind a tour title is like a script, it’s secondary. The glass image I talked about. In the first two or three songs, we fill up our vessel to the brim, and then we give what is overflowing to the audience. That is the most important.

Interviewer: It seems like “being natural” is a key theme for you recently.

Lime: That's right. I want to be natural in my songwriting too. Going overseas because you want to write a song for the world—that’s unnatural. But if I happen to go overseas and a song comes from that—that’s natural. And it’s exactly how Jusei came to be.

Interviewer: So as you pursue this idea of being natural, what kind of person do you ultimately want to become?

Lime: I don’t want to be human. Do humans even have something to be proud of as species? I want to transcend the category of “human.” I don’t want to be seen as human, because if I'm seen as a human, I'll be treated as something weird, you know? I don’t want to be looked at like some kind of rare specimen. I don’t want people to expect me to conform to their "common sense" either.

Interviewer: Is there a reason you reject being human and common sense to that extent?

Lime: Common sense is just a majority rule, isn’t it? If you're going to measure me like that, then I’d rather not be human. I actually wrote a song about this… what was it? Oh, Heisei!

Interviewer: In Heisei, you sing “There’s no need to be human” and also “Just quit being human entirely.”

Lime: That’s it. If you ask me what kind of person I want to become, my answer is I don’t want to be human. This hasn’t changed at all. When I wrote Heisei, I had lived through the Heisei era and I came to a conclusion that I don’t want to be human. Well… This whole “transcending humanity” talk is half a joke (laughs).

Interviewer: Do you have a specific direction you want the band to go?

Lime: If I knew that, things would be a lot easier. Sometimes people say, “I don’t get what this artist is trying to do with their music,” and I just want to ask, “Do you know what you want to do with your life? Do you know what kind of person you want to be?” If you did, it’d be boring. Not knowing is what makes it fun. And even if you think you know, you probably just feel like you do. Even if you reach the goal you imagined, you’ll probably find it dull.

Interviewer: So both you and the band’s direction are moving according to what feels natural.

Lime: That’s why I don’t like it when people say, “Kizu is unwavering” I want to waver and keep wavering—because that’s life. No one can walk a straight line from the start. It’s the same with music. A band is a way of living. People don’t ride along to the rhythm—they ride along to life. So yeah, the direction is unclear (laughs).

Interviewer: That unpredictability is what makes the band interesting.

Lime: That’s why I want the band to keep moving naturally. And if I can express my way of life through it, that’s enough. How to show that way of life naturally—that’s the challenge from here on. To do that, I’ll need to grow not just as an artist, but as a person. In the end, I am human, but if I become satisfied with that, I won’t be able to write a song that changes my worldview more than KuroiAme did.

Interviewer: I imagine making an album would be even harder than a single.

Lime: Yeah, but you know what? Even though I say things like “We’re not putting out an album,” I’m secretly trying behind the scenes. Cute, right? (laughs) Sneaky little efforts. But it’s impossible, really! This is our eighth single now, right? I only want to include songs that truly capture my view of life. But if I wait for those kinds of songs to come to me, who knows how long it’ll take? That’s why, for me, just creating one song that will last forever is enough. I believe KuroiAme is that kind of song. So, if I quit the band tomorrow, I’d be okay with it. Right now, we’re focusing on spreading KuroiAme—this interview is part of that, too. The scary thing is: when this phase ends, will I have something left to say or not? I don’t want to do anything unnatural. If I have nothing to say, I’ll stop. If I still have something, I’ll continue. I’m standing right on the brink.

Interviewer: So that feeling of “There’s no tomorrow” that you had from the very beginning — it’s still with you.

Lime: What kind of band does this, though? Where the vocalist just says, “I have nothing left to say, so I’m quitting.” You always hear about bands breaking up because of tension or personal issues. But “I’m quitting because I have nothing left to sing about”—why don’t we hear that more often? That’s the most natural reason to stop. For me, if I ever quit, that would be the only reason. Kizu has no issues—we get along great. Nobody knows what direction we’re heading in, and we all are just doing what we want. Whether we have momentum or not doesn’t matter at all.

Interviewer: You have such a strong will, yet you let nature take its course.

Lime: Because I’ve been betrayed by my own goals so many times. Even if I decide, “This is the direction I’m going,” it never actually goes that way. You can’t fight the force of nature. No matter how well you understand yourself, there’s only one place you’ll end up. It’s better to just let things happen naturally. I think that's what the fans want too.

Interviewer: Fans definitely want to hear your honest thoughts.

Lime: You can’t fool them. They know us better than we know ourselves. After all, you don’t look at yourself in the mirror all the time, right? But fans watch every little detail. They don’t miss a single expression. Honestly, I don’t like being observed that closely (laughs). But there’s no way you can fool someone who’s watching you like that. If I’m not enjoying myself, they’ll know. A song made just for business won’t work. Especially now, with social media and videos, people can see everything. High-definition videos show every wrinkle (laughs). Lies don't work. I didn’t really want to say this, but… Maybe this is why people say “the industry is stagnant.” All the lies have been exposed. ...Oops, I think I talked too much. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?

Interviewer: We've talked about everything from your time abroad to the theme of nature and your thoughts on the scene.

Lime: I want to create a new genre. If I had to name the current visual kei scene, I’d call it “Visual Idol” (laughs). The idol influence is really strong now. The rock influence has basically disappeared. Honestly, I feel completely out of place in this scene. There needs to be a clear division somewhere. Of course, I'm not saying that one is better than the other—each side has its own justice. I just want to see those justices clash head-on. I hate that laid-back, “let’s all get along” vibe in the greenroom. If we push against each other and elevate ourselves, naturally, only the best will remain.

Interviewer: It would be great to have a space where those different justices can collide.

Lime: We could talk about this forever. Please end it with "I don't want to be human" (laughs). So that I end up more natural, like a caveman.

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18.06.23

kyonosuke 😚

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Atsushi with cats

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

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