Long ago, a gentleman once said: “Emotions are but engines that generate violence.” As a young man, he had denied it.
But now, Facing this surging wave of runaway emotion, He felt the faint echo of those words returning to him.
No matter how many systems you build, They will, eventually, be overwritten. History has proven as much.
In that case—
Let the sound be what overwrites it all.
She was laughing.
Up, down—it no longer mattered. Even left and right had lost their meaning. Yet, this thrill Was something no amount of speed could ever provide.
"Alright, everyone—let's go!"
The low end is always beneath us. Even if perspective vanishes, The position of the bass remains unshakeable.
She does not waver. Within the sound, she knows exactly where she stands.
The rhythm races forward. A cadence that should be precise, and mechanical.
The steady intervals he creates, Pull the scattered sounds back into alignment. There, a new standard is born.
The sound is being reassembled. Countless patterns. A melody decomposed, then reconstructed.
It doesn't matter if it can't be seen. Sound can be felt; it can be touched. His piano begins to envelop the city.
"Good grief, nothing but geniuses here."
He gathers the fragmented notes. Binding the clashing personalities into a single force.
The necessary sound, in the necessary place. The guitar pulls the outlines back into focus.
"Heh, this is the best, isn't it?"
The voice joins in. The music, beginning to coalesce, Transforms into a mass possessed of a singular will.
The song spreads it across the city. Who needs a perspective? Here, there is sound.
He smiled quietly.
For a moment, it seemed as though The city had been swallowed by a gargantuan vortex.
But— The sound is overwriting it all. The colors return. The outlines return.
And then, A song, carrying a hint of nostalgia, Began to echo faintly through the air.
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.
"Lost Perspective" is a track centered on the sensation of attempting to move forward even after losing one’s sense of direction. In a modern world where "rightness" and "meaning" are effortlessly updated and overwritten, I believe everyone faces moments where they no longer know where they stand.
In this song, I chose not to forcibly organize or conclude these uncertainties and dissonances. Instead, I considered that there might be a distinct meaning in the very act of the sound continuing to resonate—even while remaining confused, even while wavering.
While anchored in elements of funk and psychedelia, the track layers fragmentary words and images to leave a "margin"—a space where each listener can overlay their own unique perspective.
My hope is that this music does not serve as a definitive answer for understanding, but rather as a quiet companion—a "catalyst" for pausing, reflecting, and seeing the world anew.
— maurice blue
Producer / Bluepiece Lab.
Single
