２２ Ｊｕｎｅ， Ｎｏｒｉｏ Ｅｎｏｍｏｔｏ
文字数 2,994文字
A Hopeful Song
Shūji punched Riku, so Riku said if that guy was drumming, he wouldn’t sing. I was in the process of convincing them that we should at least do one more show when the world got strange. I figured that was that, and that we’d disband, but then a weird job showed up.
I’m worried I’ll get complaints if I drum, so I want you to let me do it with a cajón and cymbals. It was Shūji on the phone. I said sure. Riku told me something similar before the song was even written. I’ll be recording in the middle of the night, so don’t write something that I’d have to shout for. Shūji just sniffed.
When I woke up the next morning, it was in the cloud. That evening, Ito uploaded the bass track. When I heard it, I reached for my Telecaster. Then I uploaded the finished instrumental mix and LINE’d Riku that it was ready. At dawn, my phone rang. So, this part where it says, “Tomorrow I’m sure,” it’s actually easier to sing, “Maybe tomorrow,” Riku said. Then that’s fine. They said anything that makes you feel hopeful will work. Hm? Who’s “they”? Hmm, who was it? Someone from the net company.
I woke up around noon and munched some toast while listening to Riku’s vocals via Alexa. I made coffee, headed over to my computer, and put the vocals and instrumentals together. I tossed that into the cloud folder and left a message on our LINE group telling everyone to have their videos for me within three days.
They must not have had anything else to do, because the next day the videos of them strumming, drumming, and singing along to the song were in the folder. I had to do my part, too, so I filmed myself moving my hands to the music.
Our usual video guy Takahashi edited it, and the next day the finished version was up on YouTube. Each in our own quadrant on the screen, it looked like we were all performing together from our homes, and we disseminated the fantasy that, We can connect even though we’re all in different places! A month later, the payment had been deposited per the contract, but it wasn’t clear when we would be able to do our breakup concert.
Translated by Emily Balistrieri/Arranged by TranNet KK
Norio Enomoto
Born in Wakayama Prefecture, 1959. Working in the film business section of Tokyo Theatres Company as part of the culture-related business department for Seibu Saison Group, he was primarily involved in managing theatres, organizing programs, and producing. In 2011, his first film as director,
Shūji punched Riku, so Riku said if that guy was drumming, he wouldn’t sing. I was in the process of convincing them that we should at least do one more show when the world got strange. I figured that was that, and that we’d disband, but then a weird job showed up.
I’m worried I’ll get complaints if I drum, so I want you to let me do it with a cajón and cymbals. It was Shūji on the phone. I said sure. Riku told me something similar before the song was even written. I’ll be recording in the middle of the night, so don’t write something that I’d have to shout for. Shūji just sniffed.
When I woke up the next morning, it was in the cloud. That evening, Ito uploaded the bass track. When I heard it, I reached for my Telecaster. Then I uploaded the finished instrumental mix and LINE’d Riku that it was ready. At dawn, my phone rang. So, this part where it says, “Tomorrow I’m sure,” it’s actually easier to sing, “Maybe tomorrow,” Riku said. Then that’s fine. They said anything that makes you feel hopeful will work. Hm? Who’s “they”? Hmm, who was it? Someone from the net company.
I woke up around noon and munched some toast while listening to Riku’s vocals via Alexa. I made coffee, headed over to my computer, and put the vocals and instrumentals together. I tossed that into the cloud folder and left a message on our LINE group telling everyone to have their videos for me within three days.
They must not have had anything else to do, because the next day the videos of them strumming, drumming, and singing along to the song were in the folder. I had to do my part, too, so I filmed myself moving my hands to the music.
Our usual video guy Takahashi edited it, and the next day the finished version was up on YouTube. Each in our own quadrant on the screen, it looked like we were all performing together from our homes, and we disseminated the fantasy that, We can connect even though we’re all in different places! A month later, the payment had been deposited per the contract, but it wasn’t clear when we would be able to do our breakup concert.
Translated by Emily Balistrieri/Arranged by TranNet KK
Norio Enomoto
Born in Wakayama Prefecture, 1959. Working in the film business section of Tokyo Theatres Company as part of the culture-related business department for Seibu Saison Group, he was primarily involved in managing theatres, organizing programs, and producing. In 2011, his first film as director,
Mienai
hodo
no
tōku
no
sora
o
(A sky so far you can’t see it) was released alongside his first novel. Nominated for the Haruhiko Oyabu Award in 2016 forEā
2.0
(Air 2.0). His other works includeJunsachō
Shingōji
Hiromichi
(Senior police officer Hiromichi Shingōji), which became a series includingBurū
rōtasu
(Blue lotus),Warukyūre
(Valkyrie), andĒjento
(Agent). His most recent work isDASPA
Kira
Daisuke
(DASPA Daisuke Kira).
