Kenshi Yonezu Talks New Album ‘LOST CORNER’ & Importance of Having Things that Can’t be Taken Away: Interview

Kenshi Yonezu dropped his highly anticipated new album LOST CORNER this month. The J-pop hitmaker’s latest project is a tour de force arriving four years after his previous album STRAY SHEEP, packed with 20 tracks including ten high-profile tie-ins such as “Chikyugi – Spinning Globe,” the theme song of Hayao Miyazaki’s animated movie The Boy and the Heron.

Writer Ryutaro Kuroda spoke with the 33-year-old singer-songwriter on behalf of Billboard Japan about his new release, who shared the concept and intent behind the title of “Garakuta” (“Junk”), one of the keywords of this project, and its connection to the title track and more. The “KICK BACK” artist described his current headspace after releasing the epic set as being “bright,” and this outlook seems to symbolize the style of the album in its entirety. 

You’ve completed your first album in four years. Tell us frankly how you feel about it now.

I’m feeling brighter than usual, I guess. There are things I wish I could have worked on a bit more, but I don’t spend my days being tormented by them. It feels healthy and I like that.

With so many songs that were tie-ins, I was wondering how you were going to put them together as an album. How did you come up with the overall image of the set?

As you say, the number of existing songs had grown quite a bit over the past four years, and the album could have ended up consisting mostly of existing singles. That was my initial concern. Some musicians, after a long time in the business, gradually include fewer new songs in their albums and I feel really sad about that. When I was a kid, my idea of an album was something full of songs that I’d never heard before and there was a joy in listening to them collectively, and I still clearly remember that. So when my album turned out to have 11 existing songs on it, the only way I could think of to resolve my main concern was to simply increase the number of tracks, an idea even a fool could come up with. I actually wanted to write more — ideally, I wanted more than half of the songs to be new, but fell short of that goal. I have some regrets about that, but I guess I did OK.

When did you start working on the new songs on the album?

I wrote most of them this year. There are about three tracks I wrote last year — in fact, I was actually planning to release this album last year, but really wasn’t in the mood for it. My motivation for music had dropped so low and there was a long period where I didn’t want to make any more music.

Can you tell us why?

The Boy and the Heron was a huge factor. I grew up on Ghibli films and Hayao Miyazaki was a huge presence in my life. Working on the theme song for one of his movies felt like the greatest honor ever that would probably never come my way again. And when something like that happened, it felt like I’d lived my whole life for that moment. During the last year, especially during the period leading up to the release of the film, I had this strong feeling that there’d be nothing left after this was over. I just couldn’t get into the mindset of making new songs, so I had to postpone [the album] for a year.

What made you turn to music again?

It’s hard to say succinctly, but I stopped thinking about the minutiae — I stopped facing things beyond my control. I felt that I’d just become exhausted unless I started to focus on how strongly I could secure the areas that were within my control and that others couldn’t take away from me.

From an objective standpoint, my music career probably appears full of happiness. I mean, I’ve had opportunities to be involved in various works like the Ghibli tie-in, Shin Ultraman, Final Fantasy XVI, and Chainsaw Man, so it probably looks like smooth sailing. And while I think that’s correct even from my point of view, I also had this sense of urgency. I felt that somewhere along the line, I’d snap and never be able to recover. So, I focused only on what I could control, and to a certain extent, ignored or gave up on what I couldn’t. I had to switch to this way of thinking.

You arranged all of the new songs on the album except “Garakuta – JUNK.” Is this in line with what you just said about securing what you can control?

It really is. Once I decided to do it all myself and began doing it, it was just so much fun.

What you just said sort of reminded me of your works from your diorama era.

Yes, I guess you could say I went back to my roots in that sense.

While the new songs on this album lean towards electronic music, “Garakuta – JUNK” is the only song with a band sound. What image did you have in mind when you started on it?

I wrote it as the theme song for the movie LAST MILE, but the process was full of twists and turns. The first demo I submitted was a completely different song. It was a rather subdued number, sung effortlessly in a low key. I had an urban image in mind and was writing a track that had sort of an icy feel to it, but the producers of the movie said, “Maybe this isn’t the one.” They preferred a gentler, warmer, yet ballad-like song, and I was like, “I have to admit, you do have a point.” When I first met with Ms. Ayuko Tsukahara, the director [of LAST MILE], she mentioned wanting to make this film a popcorn movie. She wanted to make a roller-coaster movie that was emotional and thrilling and could be watched with popcorn in hand. In light of that, I realized my first demo wasn’t the right image. So the current song was born in the process of writing it over again.

My understanding is that the lyrics include your own experiences.

The first one I wrote felt perfect the way it was, so when they told me it wasn’t what they were looking for, I wasn’t sure where to go from there. Around the same time, as a really personal experience, a friend of mine was in a bad spot. They were mentally overwhelmed — the word “overwhelmed” is too mild to express what they were going through. So I went to see them with another group of friends and spoke with them. That conversation and the expression on their face turned out to be a major experience for me. One of the things I remember in particular was that they kept saying, “I’m not broken.” They repeatedly said, “People might look at me that way, but I’m not broken at all. I’m perfectly fine,” and, “I’m just a little more honest than I used to be.”

After I got home and was alone, I wondered if being “broken” was such a bad thing. I thought, even if you’re broken or not, you’re still you, and I intend to accept you either way, so maybe I should have said, “It’s all right if you’re broken.” That experience had a huge influence on the creation of “Garakuta – JUNK” and as I wrote the lyrics in that direction while drawing on parts of the film that link to the emotions of the characters, I ended up with those lyrics.

The light tone of “LOST CORNER” is also notable. How did you go about creating the melody and sound?

I’m not sure, but I wanted this song to be the last track on the album when I started writing it. So I thought it’d be nice and tight if I ended it with something ceremonial or euphoric, or simply put, a ballad, but it didn’t sit very well. As I worked on it, it turned out really bright and light. But I wanted to start the album with a song that tells someone to “disappear” and end it with “not disappearing.”

Could you elaborate on what sort of mental state that reflects?

I sometimes read books about people suffering from depression. Some people can’t help but feel that their lives aren’t worth living, you know? It’s a very serious problem for them, and it’s probably hard for such people to make proper decisions in such a state, and it’s also something that feels familiar to me. It’s really a grave situation and I’m not saying I object to it or anything like that, but I felt that this is vaguely an inverted form of eugenic thinking. Being convinced that you’re not worth living is the reverse of “so long as I have value, I can live,” so you’re in a state of somehow being convinced that you shouldn’t be alive if you’re not productive. I don’t want to sound so harsh to those who are struggling now. But the truth is, it’s OK to be alive even if you aren’t productive, and it’s OK to be alive even if you’re a good-for-nothing or a dunce. While the major premise is that it’s not so simple, I still think there’s an element of not having been able to gain sight of such a basic point.

It’s OK to be “junk” you mean.

I have this feeling as well — there’s a part of me that can’t help but think that I have to be making music and that it’s the meaning of my life. I felt compelled to think about how I should confront that. Some obvious barometers are the number of likes on X (formerly Twitter) or the number of streams for songs, which are things we have to deal with, and in today’s world where social media is so ingrained in society, this isn’t limited to a profession like mine. When you think about how to deal with such visualized standards of value, I think it’s important to create an environment where we can avoid associating with them.

I might have mentioned this at the beginning, but it’s about having things that can’t be taken away from you no matter how much malice you’re exposed to — I sing about turning a curve slowly in “LOST CORNER” and in “Chikyugi – Spinning Globe” I say “I’ll turn the corner.” Maybe it’s important to keep moving at a speed that will allow you to actually feel that the road goes on. I have a feeling I was thinking about things like that a lot.

The phrase “all the dreams, hopes, misfortunes, and anguish/well, that’s that,” from “LOST CORNER” seems to symbolize this work.

Yes. Being nonchalant like that and not getting too uptight about things. Things can be really fierce in a society revolving around social media, you know? A small image of a person is cut out of context and spread out and it becomes more and more disconnected from that person’s real character. This isn’t limited to celebrities and could happen to anyone — a snapshot can be mocked to pieces and damage a person’s dignity, and the way we should live our lives under such circumstances is by separating the real from the imaginary and securing what can’t be taken away from us. I think the world has become a place where it’s really important to have an area that can’t be taken away from you.

You announced a major world tour, making two stops each in Asia, Europe, and the U.S. starting in March next year.

I’ve been to China and Taiwan before, and clearly remember the excitement from those shows. I’m looking forward to going there again.

What about Europe and the U.S.?

I can’t say because I really don’t know what to expect. I have no idea what it’ll be like. A shy Japanese person will be coming from the East, so please be gentle, is maybe how I’m feeling.

—This interview by Ryutaro Kuroda first appeared on Billboard Japan