Last time,
I wrote about how my relationship with Suno AI shifted
from a casual hobby to something serious.
Following that,
I want to leave a record of the period
when I was intensely focused on making instrumental tracks.
Using the prompt I had developed for “花は散り” as a base,
I began creating other songs as well.
Whenever something caught my attention,
I would repeat extensions and covers again and again,
shaping the track until I felt satisfied.
Because they were instrumentals,
I paid especially close attention to melody and structure.
Even without vocals,
the music had to stay engaging.
Something had to linger—
a small hook that remained no matter how many times you listened.
That was the kind of music I was aiming for.
Around this time,
I started saving these tracks
in a playlist separate from my usual “melty” folder.
The atmosphere was similar,
but the direction was slightly different.
Each song, somehow,
ended up with its own distinct character.
“Blue Carpet”
uses a classic minor progression,
urban and slightly shadowed in mood.
It’s a cool track—
one that suits the color blue perfectly.
“Last Memories”
features a delicate piano,
gripping something deep in the chest.
“Stardust”
felt like it carried the presence of a great song
from the very beginning.
From the intro to the final note,
it rushes forward in a single sweep,
and even while creating it,
a sense of exhilaration never faded.
“The Gaps in Everyday Life”
has a calm, gentle melody,
bringing a sense of comfort
and quiet warmth.
“Future Flash”
is energetic and powerful,
filled with a forward-looking,
positive resonance.
“Rhythm of Empathy”
stands out for its light, groovy bass—
a track with a subtle sense of style.
“Ame-wa-Yamazu (Raining)”
moves at a brisk tempo,
yet carries the lingering presence of rain.
It’s a song that gently tugs at the heart.
“Immersive World”
evokes a digital realm,
bold and impactful.
It feels like a place
where the boundary between reality and virtual space begins to blur.
None of these songs
were consciously designed to be different from one another.
And yet, somehow,
each one ended up carrying its own atmosphere.
Instrumental tracks,
but with an aftertaste that lingered in the heart.
Little by little,
those kinds of songs began to accumulate.
Just like “花は散り,”
I created cover art for every track.
Compressing the world of a song
into a single image.
Searching, experimenting,
until I found something that felt right.
The music and images created during this period
would later come together
to form the album Falling Petals.
Wanting—even just a little—
for someone to hear them,
I uploaded the tracks
to an old SoundCloud account
I had left untouched for years.
To be honest,
I don’t know if anyone really listened.
But I did receive a few DMs
from overseas users saying,
“I’d like to draw illustrations for your music.”
Nothing dramatic happened after that.
Still, knowing that the music had reached someone, somewhere—
that alone was enough.
Around this time,
a certain feeling lingered
in the back of my mind.
Instrumentals are good.
But when vocals enter,
music touches people more deeply.
That was something I understood well,
having spent many years as a band vocalist.
Which is exactly why
I had deliberately avoided adding vocals until then.
Adding lyrics and singing
means stepping one level deeper
into the music.
There’s no place left to hide.
And then,
starting from that one song,
I finally decided to let vocals in.
That story
will continue in the next chapter.
🎬 Instrumental tracks featured in this chapter
(Available on YouTube)
