In this city, the morning always wears the same color. Or so she remembered. A hue that was neither blue nor gray—a color that demanded no judgment.
She didn't speak much. There was too much to think about before the words could come. And often, after all that thinking, she chose not to speak at all.
The world is well-constructed. The roles assigned to each generation, the distribution of ideologies, The friction between organization and politics, Even the distortions within the unit of "family"— Everything seemed to fit perfectly within the expected parameters.
Still, she could never quite feel certain whether that consistency was truly synonymous with "righteousness."
Walking home with her bass guitar slung over her shoulder, The color of the pavement seemed to sink, just a fraction. She didn't know why. The city simply felt colder, more distant than before.
In the corner of an alley, there was a cat. It wasn't thin, nor was it wary. It was simply there.
She stopped, And instinctively reached out her hand. The cat did not move.
In that one instant, the city’s color tilted—distinctly, sharply—toward Blue.
A faint smile touched her lips. The cat remained still, looking only at the palm of her hand.
She believes in speed.
She hits the gas before she stops to wonder.
Fast machines and heavy sound are what she likes.
Given the choice to pause or keep driving without a clear view, she keeps going.
This band's direction is set by her voice.
She hardly speaks.
Low end is more accurate than words, for her.
Most of the time she's reading manga.
The rhythm of turning pages and a bass line have something in common.
Her feelings sit deep beneath the sound.
He can more or less do anything.
So nothing really ties him down.
People look up to him like an older brother; he doesn't pay it much mind.
He appears when the mood strikes and leaves the freest sound behind.
Piano is the oldest language he knows.
Everything else he picked up later.
Games, anime, and the real world blur a little at the edges.
His sound is precise and quiet.
His keyboard softens this world, just a little.
The longest-lived in the group.
The jokes are old; the rhythm stays new.
He runs his mouth while keeping time tighter than anyone.
The band stays on the rails because he never betrays the beat.
He's been in Funktown a long time.
He never steps into the spotlight.
Why he brought these members together still hasn't been told.
They say he was there when the city was still normal—and when it started to warp.
"Ambivalent Blue" is a piece centered on the sensation of living while cradling contradictions and a lingering sense of unease. Whenever the world’s definition of "righteousness" or "common sense" is updated, our past experiences and values can suddenly appear fragile and unreliable. This is a cycle that has repeated throughout every shift in human history.
I recognize that I, too, living in this moment, may eventually find myself standing on the side of the "obsolete." Because the world never stops changing, friction and discrepancies are inevitable, leaving behind a tremor that cannot be measured by simple notions of good and evil.
This song is not an answer intended to sever those contradictions. It was created as a way to remind myself of a quiet strength: the will to keep updating oneself while fully conscious of being in the midst of confusion.
My hope is that this music does not act as a judge of what is "right," but rather as a presence that quietly grants permission to those standing still within the ambiguity.
— maurice blue
Producer / Bluepiece Lab.
Single
