RADWIMPS; originally released to Youtube on March 11, 2016
This is the fifth in a series of (currently) five related songs personally released online by RADWIMPS.
1: 『白日』 (Hakujitsu)
2: 『ブリキ』 (Buriki)
3: 『カイコ』 (Kaiko)
4: 『あいとわ』 (Aitowa) (official JP/EN)
5: 『春灯』 (Shuntou)
A translation of the Youtube description, written by Noda Youjirou (the band’s frontman and songwriter):
This day has arrived again this year.
It’s been five years since then.
It feels like it’s been a very long time, but it also feels like it passed by in no time at all.
People who were new middle school students are now seniors in high school. Children who were one year old are now starting elementary school.
I, who was 25 years old, am now 30.
Over the days and months of these five years, a disparity has appeared in the degree of 『reconstruction』 for different regions. The Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster still has not been resolved. It is not under control. There are many regions that have begun to move forward, with their evacuation orders lifted, their cities steadily restored. On the other side, there are many people who still can’t return to their hometowns. On one end, there are people living in provisional housing who await the day they return home, and on the other, there are many who have given up on the return home and have begun lives in new places. There are also still people dying from the disaster’s aftereffects.
There are complicated discussions on many topics, such as whether or not nuclear generators are necessary. It’s just that, if it were only the earthquake and tsunami, I believe the disparity in recovery and the number of people who have given up on returning to their homelands would be smaller than it is now. There were no zones that had restrictions on mere entry. I wonder how many more years it will take for the sound of the word 『Fukushima』 to evoke what it was before March 11, 2011.
As usual, I am only able to worry and just wish for recovery, so I’ve written another song. Its title, 『春灯』, is read “Shuntou”.
Please do listen.
I don’t know if I’ll write songs for next year and beyond. I might go on doing it just as I have been. While I’ve been cutting off the sorrow of that one day of March 11 and making individual songs from them, little by little, I’ve started to feel like something isn’t right. It’s because I think some of that is within all of our songs. In fact, in these five years, we’ve had tragic incidents, accidents, and great happiness, so many things. And then, constantly influenced by all of those things, we’re making music. We mix all that together, and it becomes the music of our selves that are living through the 「present time」.
I think we need to not forget that overwhelmingly large experience. If we can contain even a little of the damage from the next great disaster, whenever it happens, we can change the meaning of that day’s earthquake.
I think when you look over the entire world, tragedies are happening one after another, whether it’s the work of humans or nature. The world moves at a pace so frenzied that emotions can’t keep up with it. It’s almost crushing. But that’s why there is also latent strength in the people who have realized that. To the best of my ability, I’d like to turn my eyes toward the light. I’d like for us to live hand-in-hand.
Even in this kind of world, I’d like to continue creating the sounds that have meaning in their creation.
The people of Qotori film made the video again this year. I was unable to go due to recording, so this year I left it to the combined staff of Qotori. The sky is the sky above Minamisouma. Year after year, thank you so much. Take care when you’re driving back. As with other years, Sugai-san helped as the sound engineer. My thanks.
And I thank all of you who sent in your words and your videos. Just reading each one made me feel like I would cry.
May the souls of those who died in the earthquake rest in peace.
May peaceful days come those to continue to suffer even now.
And for all of the lives that were taken away by unreasonable forces, hands together in prayer.
In this world that has people I want to see,
Maybe there’s some tiny bit of meaning, that I, at least, am alive.
Like an evening rain, the memories pass on through.
I have no umbrella, so it just beats down on me.