My encounter with that person came suddenly.

It was back when I was at my previous company, I suppose. My commute took nearly an hour by car, so I would switch back and forth between radio broadcasts and CDs. The radio was FM, and there was a program that covered traffic reports, music news, local event information, trivia, and current affairs(?).
|It was called NACK5. GOGOMONZ is really interesting.

I wonder what the program name was. It might not have been GOGOMONZ. Listeners would send in requests accompanied by short stories, and at that time, a song that was "incredibly dark from the very beginning" happened to be requested. The feeling of "something catching my attention" that I felt then was strangely intriguing.
The artist the personality mentioned wasMasaharu Fukuyama. At first, it was just a feeling of "Oh, that guy."
Something was bothering me, and I couldn't help it. What was it? It was the "sound" that really bothered me.

I used to be in the brass band. When I first started playing an instrument, even though I was interested in music, I wasn't interested in the music you often hear on the street. What is that even supposed to mean? Besides, I didn't like idol singers, so I never listened to Morning Musume, SMAP, TOKIO, or BUMP OF CHICKEN at all.

Setting that aside. I was never interested in popular songs during my student days, and that remained the same after I graduated. Should I say that I had "some kind of disgust, dissatisfaction, or something close to it, or perhaps no interest at all" in the music playing on the street (popular music)?

Anyway, conversations like "Isn't so-and-so's such-and-such great?" left me thinking, "Can you explain specifically what is good about it?" So, I didn't understand the appeal of "so-and-so's such-and-such" from Morning Musume, TOKIO, SMAP, or BUMP OF CHICKEN (maybe because I couldn't explain it myself), and I went through life without listening to them in particular. The pieces arranged for brass band were mostly popular songs (apart from things like "Armenian Dances," "Third Suite for Band," or "Tanabata"), but even then, I didn't go out of my way to listen to them.

It's strange, isn't it? It's a bit weird. What NACK5 threw at me, someone who had nothing to do with popular music, was music written by that kind of popular(?) artist, Mr. Fukuyama.

My classmates in school hardly ever mentioned his name. Since there were other things that were popular, I can't deny the possibility that he was buried, or maybe it just wasn't the right generation for him to resonate with.

In the end, days went by where I couldn't convey the brilliance(?) of his "minor key" songs to the people at work. I bought his old albums at Book-Off and listened to them over and over, probably because I wanted to fill this unbearable feeling somehow. I wondered if it was okay to be so obsessed with "minor keys" when there were other good songs too.

But time passed while I couldn't tell anyone about the "indescribable feeling" that the "minor key" song NACK5 threw at me gave me. Before I knew it, I was commuting while listening to Mr. Fukuyama's past works, and before I knew it, I had joined Mr. Fukuyama's fan club. For the very simple reason that I was attracted to those "minor keys."

It wasn't like there was a lot of information about "minor key" songs being discussed within the fan club. That's obvious. The fan club is always moving, and it doesn't keep history at a standstill. Mr. Fukuyama is human too; he might bring it up, but not all the time.

I went to his concerts a few times and had the opportunity to hear "minor key" songs live. In the midst of the cheers and excitement buried among other major key songs, the invitation to a "minor key" would suddenly begin. Even though he performed others, I was only paying attention to the "minor keys." His repertoire was already full of well-known masterpieces.
Naturally, there were things I didn't know. The "minor key" songs were quickly buried.

As I wrote above, I don't have much interest in things that other people think are "great," and I sometimes show a strange interest in things that don't come up in conversation and tend to be overlooked, or things that people might say, "I might avoid this a little."

It's not that I hate everything major; can you understand if I say that the "hole of interest" that I can't get out of once I'm hooked has a strange shape and is in a strange position compared to other people? So, for his songs, too, there were some I could accept and some I couldn't. For that song familiar from commercials, I liked the sound of the transition between the B-melody and the chorus, or I liked the reverberation when the sound cut out rather than the exciting chorus. If I get even one impression like that, something falls right into my "hole of interest."

Until King Gnu entered the scene, I went back and forth between Mr. Fukuyama, WANDS, Final Fantasy (orchestral performances), and Monster Hunter (game soundtracks) (this is already a bit weird, right?). When I gave a senior colleague who had missed their ride home a lift in my car, they said, "You listen to strange things, don't you?"
I didn't deny it because there was nothing wrong with it.

WANDS, FF, and Monster Hunter, I still listen to them because there was something that fell into this "hole of interest," that's all.

I didn't have many things that stayed in my head forever. Mr. Fukuyama's "minor key" songs seemed to be like a thorn that pierced my heart deeply and wouldn't come out. That's how strong an impression they made.
It's unfair. It's beyond the level of a foul. I don't think it will come out until I die. It's already at a fatal depth, and there's no way to deal with it.

My previous workplace had few people, so there were years I gave up on going to concerts. I couldn't easily say, "I'd like to take the day off because it's his concert!!" However, since advance ticket applications for concerts start quite a while in advance, it was a bit of a "first come, first served" situation. When I won, I had no choice but to say, "It's Masaharu Fukuyama's (concert) on this day," and get the day off.

When I was able to go to a concert, I also "bought merchandise to support him." Concert T-shirts are now my pajamas, though. There are other things I've been using for a long time. The only thing I regret is that I couldn't buy the limited-edition tote bag sold during the FC event (one of the dates was my birthday, andwhen I applied for both days without expecting much, I won both days).

It was like receiving an unexpected birthday present (winning on my actual birthday) from Mr. Fukuyama, so I decided to give up on it even though I wanted it.

The 5,000 yen annual fan club fee isn't expensive at all. I was grateful that I could renew my membership at the concert venue. I stayed a member for a while, but I'm not exactly well-off financially, so I thought about quitting and did so. Even though I quit, it doesn't mean I stopped "supporting" him. I listen to the radio occasionally, and when I see or hear Mr. Fukuyama's name on TV, or see him doing something, I think, "He's working hard."

I drifted away a bit after King Gnu entered the scene, but the "minor key" songs are still in my playlist, never being washed away even when mixed with other songs.

King Gnu "Title that shakes the heart and soul"
King Gnu "Title that makes you super positive"
King Gnu "Title that shocked me when I first heard it"
Masaharu Fukuyama "Title that looks like you could write a novel with this"
WANDS "Title that has amazing analysis and such even though it's unreleased"
King Gnu "I think it's a minor key"
Masaharu Fukuyama "Title that inspires people"
Masaharu Fukuyama "Minor key title"
King Gnu "Title with the most interesting live performance"
Masaharu Fukuyama "Theme song for a certain movie"
Acid Black Cherry "Title with an incredible question to society"
King Gnu "Title that doesn't seem like a heartbreak song"

Something like that.
I think it's a playlist that people can't help but think, "What is this guy doing, cheating with King Gnu?" But supporting one artist doesn't mean "I won't listen to other artists' songs."
My current playlist is all King Gnu, but I will never remove his "minor key" songs. King Gnu and Acid Black Cherry also have songs that seem to be written in "minor keys," and actually, those are stuck in my heart too.

I wrote "there are songs that seem to be written in 'minor keys'" because I don't really know if those songs were actually written in a minor key. Even though I was involved in music clubs, my knowledge of scales has traveled somewhere else, so I listen with my senses and perceive them as "this is (I think) a minor key." So I think there are parts I'm misreading, but that song that pierced my heart was introduced as "the first single written in a minor key," so I was convinced that it was indeed so.

I thought that encounters are truly sudden.
Whether it's a "major key" with a bright melody or a "minor key" with a dark melody throughout, what pierces the heart will pierce it. I thought that "major keys" and "minor keys" have nothing to do with songs that are good at being close to you.

I probably wouldn't have thought to support Mr. Fukuyama if it weren't for this "minor key" song, so I'm grateful he made it.

The "minor key" song that shocked me is "Hatsukoi".

Since the "minor key" is the one at fault (in a good way), I'm not at fault.