

B1なんてあったかしら
昨日の夜は確かにあった
気のせいだったのかな
ドアが閉まります
ドアが閉まります
私は何をみたのだろう
アレ?
地下1階?
この駅に地下なんて?
会社の帰り
出張のカバンが重い
2階が改札の駅で
はじめてエレベーターに乗る
ハッ
1階
アレ?
1階のボタンを押した
その下にB1がある
長年すんでいる街の
毎日つかう駅の
知らない階が光ってる
B1なんてあったかしら
昨日の夜は確かにあった
気のせいだったのかな
ドアが閉まります
ドアが閉まります
私は何をみたのだろう
ピン
右側のドアが開きます
ピン
1階です
1階で降りたあと
キャリーバッグをひきながら
家までのみちのアスファルト
この下に何があるの?
B1押したらどこにいった
押さなかったから帰れたの?
B1がある
B1があった
B1はどこに通じてる?
翌朝いつもの出勤
わざわざエレベーターに乗る
B1を探すけど
ボタンは2階と1階だけ
指の先が止まってる
ないボタンをまだ探してる
ドアのすきまの黒い線が
昨日より少し深い
ドアが開きます
2階です
ドアが閉まります
いつもの駅
B1なんてあったかしら
私はまだ
あの夜の中?
- Lyricist
MASAQUI
- Composer
MASAQUI
- Producer
MASAQUI
- Programming
MASAQUI

Listen to Was There a B1 Floor by MASAQUI
Streaming / Download
- 1
Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs
MASAQUI
- 2
Rotting, Stagnating, Clouding
MASAQUI
- 3
In Recommended Feed
MASAQUI
- ⚫︎
Was There a B1 Floor
MASAQUI
- 5
Saving Me
MASAQUI
- 6
Only The Attendance Number Is Correct
MASAQUI
- 7
Special Romance
MASAQUI
- 8
Look Out! The Pink Unicorn Sees All!
MASAQUI
- 9
Awake Inside a Zombie
MASAQUI
- 10
Headline Verdict, Instant Death Sentence
MASAQUI
404AM returns with its tenth album, Play.
We were only playing.
Nothing becomes more unsettling than those four words.
Play explores the fragile boundary between reality and imagination.
Games.
Jokes.
Pretending.
Role playing.
Escaping boredom.
Each begins as something harmless.
Each quietly rewrites reality.
A recommendation feed that knows you too well.
A self that never finishes saving.
A school where only attendance numbers remain correct.
A basement that should not exist.
A pink unicorn watching from somewhere unseen.
A romance that feels more like an experiment.
People moving through life without ever fully waking up.
Across these tracks, reality is only slightly distorted.
Nothing impossible happens.
Only impossible feelings.
Blending city pop, lo fi textures, dream pop, broken dance music, internet folklore, abandoned commercial spaces, VHS damaged memories, and algorithmic nostalgia, 404AM creates an album where play becomes a survival instinct.
These songs do not ask whether something is real.
They ask whether reality itself has always been another game.
Sometimes pretending is protection.
Sometimes imagination remembers more than memory.
Sometimes the joke is the only honest thing left.
Play is an album about the quiet rules we invent to keep living, long after we forget who created them.



