Interviewer: Today's theme is "Musicians and Hay Fever." Of course, I'm kidding.

Lime: Haha! The pollen was really bad at the outdoor concert the other day, wasn't it?

Interviewer: The weather was great, but on the flip side, the pollen was flying everywhere.

Lime: Yeah, it was rough. It's not just hard to breathe, maybe I’m not that great at singing outdoors in general. I tend to inhale a lot of dust. I inhale a larger volume of air at once, since I sing louder than most people. So sometimes it feels like my throat might just explode in one go.

Interviewer: And you had a full-on live show at the same Yaon venue the day before, right? And it was a battle-of-the-bands with DEZERT, no less.

Lime: That’s right. When it’s a band battle, I just can’t hold myself back. It’s a different kind of energy than a one-man. Actually, when it’s a band battle, I just can’t pace myself—at all. I do realize that’s something I need to work on, but I lose control and go too hard every time (laughs). It’s always been like that. Most of the times I’ve messed up my throat were after doing band battles. I’ve had plenty of situations where I’ve thought, If I hadn’t gone all-out there, the next show would’ve been totally fine. In the past, I could recover just by sleeping half a day, but now it takes me 2–3 days, sometimes even a whole week…

Interviewer: As you get older, that's how hangovers start to linger too. (laughs) Putting that aside, when you performed at the outdoor concert on March 2, your throat wasn't actually in perfect condition, then? Watching you, I never would've guessed.

Lime: I’m glad to hear that (laughs). But yeah, the truth is, I wasn’t anywhere near 100%. It's kind of embarrassing to admit. That said, I do train regularly, so maybe my baseline level has gone up enough.

Interviewer: At the same time, there's also the fact that people watching don’t notice the things you’re worrying about as much as you do.

Lime: That's true. That’s why I’ve been thinking about stopping this whole habit of evaluating my own performances. Lately, I’ve had so many moments where I realize what I think and what everyone else thinks are totally different. That was true at Budokan, and again at Yaon. It’s made me start to feel like, Maybe this isn’t something I should be judging myself on. Of course, I still stay conscious of doing my best and performing in the best condition I can be in.

Interviewer: I imagine you've come to that conclusion because you tend to be extremely hard on yourself. Not in a self-indulgent way, but just holding yourself to a high standard.

Lime: I think that's true. But there are definitely moments during a show when I’m singing and I feel like, Ah, this isn’t going well, it’s not coming across. But in the end, a live show isn’t something I do for my enjoyment—it's something for everyone else to enjoy. So I've come to think that I should just focus on giving my absolute best as myself. I've decided not to think about unnecessary things. Once I start self-evaluating, I end up obsessing over every little thing and kind of lose sight of what actually matters.

Interviewer: You start forgetting why you’re doing it.

Lime: Exactly. Especially during band battles.

Interviewer: Going back to the Yaon show, despite the title of the performance being "Ame Otoko" (Rain Man), the weather turned out to be fairly good. You must’ve felt relieved that morning, right?

Lime: I really did feel a sense of relief. When I woke up, it was cloudy, but I thought, This should be okay.

Interviewer: I’m sure a lot of people in the audience were also worried about the weather, but more than that, they were probably wondering, What kind of show will Kizu put on after their Budokan performance? What kind of mindset did you go into the show with?

Lime: At first, my personal impression of the Budokan show was just, I guess we did okay? But then the reactions from people around me were incredibly positive, and I started to wonder, Wait, did we actually put on something way better than I thought? So as Yaon approached, I took a quick look at the footage from Budokan, and thought, Yeah, this is actually kind of a good show, and the next moment, I was trembling (laughs)—because I suddenly felt this pressure, What could we possibly do next after this? Especially since we hadn’t released anything new after that. Right now we’re pushing forward with our new song R/E/D/ but in terms of showing people what comes after Budokan, it was an incredibly difficult concert.

Interviewer: And realistically speaking, the scale of the venue was much smaller than Budokan, and because it was an outdoor venue there were obvious limits to what you could do with the production. But in the end, the bold use of video and lighting really stood out. I remember thinking, You can do this much outdoors?

Lime: Oh, I'm glad to hear that. But honestly, I wasn't thinking much about the production at all. The only thing on my mind was probably, Let's make it as spectacular as we can. Since you can’t really do anything too special outdoors, all we could do was give it everything we had in terms of performance. That said, this time we did have a lot of live cameras (real-time filming), so people could really see our expressions. Actually, these days, I don’t really get involved in the production side anymore. I leave all of that to our drummer, Kyonosuke. Back in the day, I used to handle everything myself—even running lighting and video simulations the day before the show. But doing all that just wore me down and drained my focus. Plus, when I was directing everything myself, I tended to overdo it—too much production. And when it didn’t land right, it would feel fake. When I realized that, I had this moment where I thought, It kind of sucks to direct myself. I didn't want to bring thoughts like, This is how I want people to see me, onto the stage. If you know a spotlight is going to hit a certain spot, and then you deliberately walk into it yourself... doesn't that feel kind of unnatural? It’s better if Kyonosuke decides that and shines the light on me when it makes sense. He’s always watching me from behind, after all.

Interviewer: He's the one who can see the whole stage better than anyone. And if the performer is also acting as the stage director, then the slightest thing going differently from plan is bound to bother them and make them frustrated.

Lime: That's exactly how I used to be. I was constantly irritated. Constantly losing my temper. But in the end, it was because I was carrying far more than I actually needed to. It’s good to strive for your own version of perfection, but I realized that forcing those standards onto everyone else and getting angry when they didn't meet them wasn't helping anyone—not even me. In the end, what I really want to do is music. I don't want to get angry or direct. Realizing that helped me start letting go—leaving things to others where I can. And I think I’ve found a pretty good balance now. In that sense, I really lean on Kyonosuke a lot, and thanks to that, I can focus much more on the music. Honestly, being able to finish songs like Oni and R/E/D/ might’ve only been possible because of that change.

Interviewer: I see. It also helps explain why this outdoor show came with so much pressure after Budokan.

Lime: As the concert got closer, the pressure just kept growing. It hadn't even been a full two months since the Budokan show. The funny thing is, for some reason I'd convinced myself there were three months between them (laughs). So mentally, I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I’d be. Even so, I think I was able to express myself pretty well.

Interviewer: After finishing the Budokan show, did you feel any gap between what you were aiming for and the actual result?

Lime: It wasn't so much that I was aiming for something specific. It was more that I had this vague sense that something felt off. Until about a week before the show, I couldn't figure out what was it that I was feeling. In the end, I realized it was about my own identity—like, within this life I have as a band member, what kind of person am I really? Am I someone who gets on stage to entertain? Am I a singer? An artist? There are so many different reasons people go on stage, right? And for me, those lines had started to blur. But eventually, I figured it out: what I really want to do isn’t entertainment—it’s art. I want to create art that moves people by expressing myself fully. Before I realized that, all I could think about was, I shouldn't let myself be forced to perform at Budokan.

Interviewer: Forced to perform at Budokan. what exactly do you mean by that?

Lime: For a rock band, Budokan is a place that holds an incredible amount of power. Even the word 'Budokan' itself carries such weight that just seeing those characters written on a whiteboard can get me a little choked up (laughs). That’s why I thought, if I said "Budokan!" during an MC, I’d get completely overwhelmed by it.

Interviewer: So that’s why, on that day, you never once hyped the crowd by shouting "Budokan!"?

Lime: That’s exactly the reason. If I had said it, then me, the other members, and the audience would’ve all slipped into this Ah, this is Budokan mindset. And even though we were there to perform at Budokan, it would have felt like we were being made to do it. In entertainment, that probably would’ve been fine. But that's not what I wanted to do at Budokan. Of course I wanted to perform there—but we weren’t doing the show for Budokan.

Interviewer: So because Budokan means so much to you personally, your feelings toward it became rather complicated.

Lime: That's right. I mean, we all watch our favorite artists’ Budokan shows, right? I’ve seen quite a few myself. And honestly, sometimes I’d watch those and feel like the artist was being made to perform at Budokan. That’s not necessarily a bad thing—but I knew if I went down that road, Budokan would swallow me up too. There are tons of artists and bands who’ve stood on that stage and managed to rise above it, but also many who haven’t. And when I thought about what makes that difference, I couldn’t help but feel it came down to whether they were performing at Budokan, or whether Budokan was performing them.

Interviewer: It’s kind of like when people say someone is "being worn by their clothes," right?

Lime: Right. And I only realized that about a week before the show. Up until then, I’d been carrying around all these ideas with an entertainment mindset, thinking stuff like, What kind of cool things can we do to wow everyone? But then I threw all of that out. It wasn’t about that. It had to be about doing my art. I think that change in mindset ended up helping me in a positive way. Toward the end of the year I'd been feeling pretty unsettled the whole time. And actually, right before that, I got food poisoning, and there was a moment where I thought, Maybe Budokan is over. Maybe I won't be able to do it. I got really pessimistic. But in the end, I fully recovered, and was able to give it my all. I think I was probably in my best condition that day.

Interviewer: Back when you were preparing for Sora no Nai Hito at Yaon, you said something similar, that even though you had strong feelings about that venue, you were deliberately trying not say it. Because if you did, the audience would become too aware that it was that kind of show. At the time, I remember thinking, Wow, what a contrarian. But after hearing what he said now, I completely understand.

Lime: In the end, that was the source of all the discomfort I'd been carrying around. Even when playing a battle-of-the-bands type show, if I was surrounded by bands who were really all-in on entertainment, I’d start to get swept up in that atmosphere and want to do the same. And when that happens, you lose your own unique style. I adjust to match the other acts, and my own expression changes. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with entertainment—there’s nothing wrong with that at all. But what I want to do, and the path I want to follow, that became clearer to me again during that time. I'm glad I realized that right before the Budokan concert.

Interviewer: Artistic expression and self-expression often come with the awareness that it might only go one way—that you might be misunderstood. But when it does resonate, it ends up becoming entertainment in its own right. I feel like that’s why everyone on stage looked so emotional after the final song—because you all truly felt that connection.

Lime: I was really overwhelmed at the end. There was that moment when the lights swept around and suddenly illuminated the whole venue. Right then, I thought, Ah… this really is Budokan. I think I held back the tears pretty well… relatively speaking (laughs).

Interviewer: In such a massive space like Budokan, were you able to feel like your message was actually reaching the audience?

Lime: Not at first. There was that moment when I left the stage while the other members were doing their solos, right? Up until then, I hadn’t really been able to feel that connection. I think the audience was nervous too. When you're doing something completely new in a place you've never played before, of course you're nervous—but everyone else is nervous too. At that point it's hard for anyone to simply enjoy the concert. So I deliberately put together a setlist that I thought would help people relax as much as possible. The reason we opened with Strawberry Blue, a song everyone’s really familiar with, was because I wanted people to loosen up right from the beginning. Even so... it was Budokan. There was still that tension in the air, and there were moments when I felt like what I was wanted to convey wasn't reaching them. So during that solo section, when I slipped backstage for a bit, I took a moment to calm myself down and think, What am I missing here? After that, I started consciously trying to be more direct in getting my message across—and from that point, I began to actually feel it connecting. Even if you really hype the crowd up, it takes time for the energy to reach everyone in a space that size. That kind of physical and emotional distance is just part of playing huge venues. That’s why I think it really helped to have played at places like Yoyogi Second Gymnasium before Budokan. When we played NHK Hall, too, I felt how hard it is to get things across in a big hall like that. Even with MCs, if you don’t slow down your speech, it won’t land. In that sense, I’m glad we took it step by step before arriving at Budokan.

Interviewer: There were many memorable moments during the Budokan show, but what really stays with me from Kizu's shows is always the words. That message at the end "With this life, I want to save all of you" left a strong impression. It was an altered version of the lyrics from Oshimai, and you sang it in that form during the show. Would you say that was the message you most wanted to convey that day?

Lime: I think so. When we first released Oshimai, I felt something was off about that part of the lyrics when I was singing it. That’s actually why I stopped performing the song for a while, I didn’t want to say those words. But then, when I started thinking, Isn’t there something I want to say now? That new phrase came to me. Perhaps the entire show was built around those words.

Interviewer: Originally, the lyrics said "I can't save you with these hands."

Lime: It’s kind of cold, isn’t it? (Laughs) I think I wasn't strong enough to save them back then. That was my honest feeling at the time. Oshimai is one of our earliest songs, and at the time, I didn’t even know what kind of audience would come to see us. I was writing it while doing the phone call project, and honestly, you can't save people through a phone. I think I wrote it with that feeling in mind. However, as I sang it on stage, I gradually came to feel that it wasn't like that, and I stopped singing it. But even then, I couldn’t quite come up with the right lyrics to replace it. It wasn’t until right before Budokan that I was finally able to write them. And I'm certain that what I wrote is exactly how I feel.

Interviewer: Compared to back then, you’ve obviously gained a lot more experience, and the trust between you and your fans must have deepened too. I think the change in lyrics reflects that evolution, it's only natural.

Lime: They've definitely given me confidence. I've received confidence from them, and now I'm able to make use of it, because confidence isn't something you can gain entirely by yourself. In a way, it's something other people give you. If the fans standing in front of me today didn't exist, I don't think I'd have any confidence at all.

Interviewer: And because they gave you confidence, you want to save them?

Lime: I think that's it. I've always felt that I'm the one who's been saved. I'm the one who's still being saved.

Interviewer: During the Budokan show, you said something on stage like, "You only need to believe in me." It seemed that you want to save everyone because you were saved yourself, and that it's okay to just believe in you.

Lime: I’m glad if that came across. But honestly, As long as I'm standing on a stage, I want to keep giving. Because if you don't give anything, you can't expect to receive anything either. Back when I was in my previous band, I'd often say things like, "Come to our shows!" Looking back now, even that felt somehow wrong to me. Ultimately, it's obvious that if you don't give anything, you won't receive anything either.

Interviewer: Something just occurred to me: your lyrics often include the phrase "sorry." Maybe that’s also an expression of "Sorry I couldn’t save you" or "Sorry I couldn’t give you anything."

Lime: That might have been part of it. As for the word “sorry,” there was actually a period when I was kind of obsessed with it. I like negative words in general, or rather, I like using negative words in a positive way. I like the idea of not letting negativity end as negativity. I think there's a bit of that in the lyrics of Oshimai too.

Interviewer: Speaking of negative words, the phrase “a dream born of a curse” from the lyrics of R/E/D/ is incredibly striking. That song was also very impactful at both Budokan and Yaon. Of course, the symphonic elements and the visuals playing in the background added to it—but again, it was the words that really hit the hardest. Was that song, too, born out of something you needed to express?

Lime: Absolutely. If I don’t have anything I want to express—I don’t write songs. As for the lyrics of that song, I really poured everything I am into it. It’s my own answer to “What is rock?”

Interviewer: You wanted to perform that kind of song at Budokan?

Lime: I definitely did. I felt like I needed to show what it is I stand for. I'm really proud I managed to pour all of that into R/E/D/. You know I don’t really talk much on stage, right? That’s because I want to express everything I want to say through songs themselves—as art. That’s why I feel the need to put so much effort into songwriting and lyrics.

Interviewer: Right. And during that song, visuals are shown that are like a tribute and homage to various predecessors you respect. Was that also your idea?

Lime: That came together through conversations between Kyonosuke, myself, and YUTARO, who handled the video production. Since it’s a song filled with respect, we really wanted to make sure that came across in the visuals too. We shared that with him, and he proposed some concepts—what you see now is based on one of those. The video just matched the song perfectly. Even I was like, Whoa! when I saw it (laughs). That's when I realized that a team is really necessary and incredibly important. It elevates my songs and lyrics. It's all only possible because of the support of the people around me.

Interviewer: That video really seemed to silently express Kizu’s origins and identity.

Lime: I’m glad if that’s how it came across. Of course, everyone interprets things differently, and there are probably people who can only take it at face value without digging deeper. There might be people who watched the visuals, listened to the lyrics, and all that they got was the phrase “sex with the universe” (laughs).

Interviewer: Well, that's understandable. It’s such a powerful phrase. Even just the word 'universe' changes depending on how you interpret it—as something infinite and ever-expanding, or as a microcosm of oneself.

Lime: That’s true. But with R/E/D/, I was definitely thinking about the larger, expansive kind of universe. There was this moment when I thought, Sound really is a strange thing. It’s invisible, right? And I started thinking—if somehow my voice could reach out into space, would it just continue to exist out there forever? Thinking about this eventually led to those lyrics. Well, of course, as a form of expression it’s not very explanatory—it’s quite condensed and abstract.

Interviewer: Once you start thinking about things that way, there really is no end to it. And that phrase “a dream born of a curse” also lingers. It makes you think—desire and curse can be two sides of the same coin, can’t they?

Lime: What I was thinking was 'Maybe you can’t reach Budokan unless you’re cursed.' I don’t feel like I'm dreaming of rock—I feel like I’m cursed by it. I'm here now as a result of being cursed by rock I saw and heard as a kid. And also because of this—I can’t quit. There were times I thought 'I wanna quit the band', but I don’t know how. I’ve had moments where I just gave up, like how my last band ended. But in the end, I feel like I can’t live without this. Like, I would just soaking in the bath or something, it’d hit me, 'Damn, I have to be in a band!' (laughs) I think there are a lot of people like that. People who don’t know how to quit, so they just keep going. They don’t say it out loud, but I bet there are more than we think. I’m definitely one of those people. And that’s why I envy those who can just walk away cleanly.

Interviewer: It’s interesting. A dream is something you can chase even if you don’t think it’s achievable, but when you hit a wall you can’t overcome, that’s when you’re forced to give up. The dream might disappear, but I feel like a curse doesn’t go away so easily.

Lime: It really doesn’t go away. That’s why I call it a curse, not a dream. In fact, I’ve written lyrics about being cursed by rock in a few of my songs, and in a way, R/E/D/ is a culmination of all that. I was cursed by Budokan too. What was once a dream—Budokan, began to feel real, and when it did, I found myself dreaming new dreams. That’s because there’s still a curse on me. I really think dreams and curses are two sides of the same coin.

Interviewer: The final words you said at the Budokan concert “We’ll be back soon. See ya!”, were also really striking. You ended the show in a really cool way with that line.

Lime: I was really trying to act cool (laughs). Personally, next time we play Budokan, I really want to say “Budokan!” It’s definitely something I’ll say next time (laughs). If I get the chance to do Budokan again, I think I’ll be able to have a performance where I’m not overwhelmed by the venue, and instead, I can make the most of it.

Interviewer: So, you could say that the upcoming video release of the Budokan concert captures the process of you and the band being freed from the curse, right?

Lime: No, I might still be under the curse in that video, or maybe I’m under a new curse (laughs).

Interviewer: At the same time, I think the video from the Budokan performance will be a great introduction for people who don't know Kizu well yet, both in terms of the setlist and content. It’s like a perfect entry point.

Lime: That might be true. I think it’s really easy to understand. There were moments during that Budokan show where I truly felt I was able to express myself 100%. So, not just the people who were there at the venue, but also those who don’t know much about Kizu should check it out.

Interviewer: At the same time, I imagine many people who’ve attended your live shows might have reactions like, I thought it was going to be like this because it's Visual Kei, but it wasn’t what I expected.

Lime: That’s actually very common. We hear that a lot. There have even been people who, not long ago, were saying things like "Recent Visual Kei isn’t the same as before", and now they’re coming back to our shows (laughs). Honestly, I’d love to make even more people come back (laughs). I really want to convey that Visual Rock is an amazing genre. I’ve been saved by this genre myself—it’s kept me alive, and I want it to keep sustaining me going forward too. And since I’ve been given admiration through it, I want to leave admiration behind as well.

Interviewer: Because the curse can’t be broken, it becomes something that gets passed down like that. By the way, since there are milestone anniversaries coming up, it makes people curious about what’s next. After both Budokan and the outdoor show, there weren’t any major announcements, so it naturally makes people wonder what you’ll do next.

Lime: Actually, we’re working on a lot of things right now. But last year, I only wrote Oni and R/E/D/. We only made two songs despite being an indie band. I was laughing about it with the band members. But the members keep saying they want to hear more songs, and the fans probably feel the same, even my relatives are saying things like, "Why don’t you guys release more songs?" (laughs), so if everyone wants to hear more, I figured I should make more songs (laughs). That's why I’ve started carrying around my laptop with me all the time (to work on new songs). Last year, it wasn’t that I was slacking off or anything. It’s just that there were only two songs that I felt were worth finishing and keeping (laughs). But this year, I want to make more and leave more behind. It might seem like I haven’t been doing much, but I’ve actually been quietly working on new material.

Interviewer: Was there any particular reason that there were fewer songs created last year?

Lime: It’s simply because I focused all my energy on Oni. That was the song I spent the most time on, in my life. I think it took about nine months. But the staff around me, including the president, were all supportive of it, saying that it was fine. Even though it took so much time, they trusted me. That’s why I feel confident that Oni turned out great. But honestly, I’m not good at songwriting, I don’t like it. I can’t work on multiple songs at once. That’s why I only make one song at a time, so, once Oni was finished, I was able to work on R/E/D/. In the end, I can only focus on the one song I’m working on at that moment.

Interviewer: But you had the environment where people were willing to wait for you.

Lime: I’m really grateful for that. But right now, I feel like my mind is sharper than it’s ever been. So I want to leave behind as much as I possibly can. After all, we still haven’t released an album, have we? I’d really like to do something about that. Although, it might take another nine months to finish the songs I’m currently working on (laughs).

Interviewer: I imagine your stance and approach to songwriting hasn’t changed, but with an increasing number of listeners and growing trust from your fans, has your way of maintaining motivation changed in any way?

Lime: I don't really think about it like that, in fact, it's fine if it’s just a one-way communication. I think it's okay for music to be misunderstood. I’m sure parts of my existence are misunderstood, and the same goes for the band Kizu. If that’s the case, then that’s fine. I don’t feel like I need to “reach as many people as possible,” and I also don’t think, “I want people to see me this way.” I’m not sure if that’s what you’d ego, but the feeling that I just want to express myself to the fullest hasn’t changed, and I don’t think it will. So, I always think of expressing the current me with everything I have. How it is received, that’s something I probably should think about more, but if I start thinking about that, I lose focus of the music itself.

Interviewer: Right. We keep coming back to that point.

Lime: That’s why I can really say that I want to do art. Not just with my work, but I want the live performances to be something that can be called art. It feels kind of unnatural for me to say "Listen to this!" I believe stories should be born through natural encounters, and how you encounter music is important. That’s why I’m curious, I really want to know: when, where, and how did this person encounter Kizu’s music?