Last time, I wrote about the day I made my first song with Suno AI.
This time, I want to continue from there.
There was one song that changed my relationship with Suno entirely.
Back then, my days were very monotonous.
I’d wake up in the morning, open Suno,
and generate the five songs allowed for the day.
That had become my daily routine.
If a song turned out well, I’d save it to my iPhone.
If not, I’d let it play once and move on.
It was fun—but it still felt like an extension of play.
Then one day,
a slightly different song appeared.
The intro was strangely memorable.
To be honest,
what came after the intro wasn’t that great.
As a whole, it wasn’t a particularly polished track.
And yet, that intro alone
refused to leave my head.
Suno has a feature called “Extend,”
which lets you regenerate a song from a specific point onward.
Just to try it,
I extended the track right after the intro ended.
Extensions cost credits,
and on the free plan, you only get a limited number.
Still, I couldn’t stop.
Day after day,
I extended the song again and again from the same point.
If only what comes next were different, it could be so much better.
That feeling—nothing more than a hunch—kept me going.
And then, one moment.
The instant I heard a melody generated by one of those extensions,
my chest clearly trembled.
Ah—this is it.
That’s what I thought.
From there, everything moved quickly.
Whenever something caught my attention,
I’d extend the song again from that spot.
Little by little,
the shape of the song began to emerge.
“I want to finish this song properly.”
The stronger that feeling became,
the more frustrating the daily limits felt.
And that’s when I decided to subscribe.
Three days later,
an instrumental track was complete.
Its title was “Flowers.”
It felt clearly different
from the tracks I’d casually thrown into my “melty” folder before.
For the first time,
I felt I could say,
“This is a song I made.”
Once the music was finished,
I wanted to create cover art.
Until then,
I’d only used image generation casually—almost like a toy.
But this time was different.
Flowers bloom,
and eventually, they fall.
I wanted an image that could hold both
a beginning and an ending at once.
I kept refining prompts, searching for that feeling.
And then,
I found an image that felt perfect for the song.
When I looked at it,
the title “Flowers” suddenly felt a little off.
I wanted it in Japanese.
I wanted a name that lingered longer.
And so,
the song became “花は散り” (Flowers Fall).
Looking back,
this was where everything truly began.
Suno AI stopped being
just a convenient music-making tool.
It became a partner—
someone I was making music with.
Next time, I’ll write about how the process that began with
“花は散り”
eventually led me into a period of rapid, almost obsessive creation.
🎬 Music featured in this essay
花は散り (Instrumental)
Available to listen to on YouTube
