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Sweat and tears.
The bonds of friendship.
The days of youth spent chasing dreams.
"A Certain High School's Youth Machine Gun" appears at first glance to be a story depicting a familiar coming-of-age tale.
The feelings for one's alma mater, the inherited will, the encouragement of a passionate teacher, and the glory pursued with friends. The world depicted with the intensity of a sports manga pulls listeners back to their own memories.
However, there's something odd about this story.
The straightforward words gradually begin to distort, and the boundary between passion and enthusiasm becomes blurred. The brilliance and absurdity of youth are two sides of the same coin, and this work stands on that precarious balance.
Is it sublime?
Is it utterly ridiculous?
This song, which races at full speed along the boundary between emotion and ridicule, is a work that combines the mischievousness and seriousness characteristic of Boroboros.
For those who remember their own youth.
Even for those who never experienced youth.
A slightly problematic hymn to youth, dedicated to all adults.
What exactly is the relationship between these two? The first thing you notice is the man in white face paint. Next to him stands another man, strangely full of authority. It looks like there is some kind of hierarchy between them, but it is not that simple. I want to eat. I want to drink. I want to sleep. I want money. I want to act important. Say it out loud, and it is pretty much over. But that does not mean it disappears. Just for today is fine. What is wrong with that? I do not care. I am not interested. Give me money. I am God. In Boroboros, things like that never step back. Ambition over conscience. Cheat days over regret. God Water over salvation. Uprising over weakness. The things you usually have no choice but to swallow somehow look like they have won here. That is why you listen. Not because you want to be proper. Not because you want to be comforted. Because the more the rotten things step forward, the more the dictator-like presence of the man standing beside them strangely starts to work. Boroboros. A rock unit where desire, ambition, and grudges wear the most arrogant face in the room.
L Studio Recored