KAGEBOSHI (feat. Tohoku Kiritan) [DEMO Ver.]

This is a rock number for working people, a song about life.

In the 2000s, many songs in the Japanese rock scene sang about the present with a high resolution that was more crude than glamorous, more realistic than idealistic, as an alternative to the glittering pop music scene, In the 2010s, the songs became more about emotional outbursts and yearning for early impulses, and transitioned into the era of today's hedonism and cynicism.
I don't want to work, and if I do work, it should be appropriate. I just want to be able to efficiently protect the happiness that is within my reach.
Recently, more and more people are criticizing young people in this way in generational theory, but I don't believe that humans are dexterous and clever enough to realize these lifestyles 100% of the time. In fact, even if we work appropriately, it is difficult to cut corners unless the circumstances are just right, and that can be stressful. Working with efficiency in mind is encouraged, but the organization of a company and human society are not so simple that rationality is the only way to carry out or improve work. We do not live alone, and our emotions and biorhythms take precedence over reason.
The reality is a lazy life that deviates from the ideal. We are still too full to afford it, and although we are bored and don't like our current life, we don't dislike it enough to change it, nor can we afford to be concerned about it. I think that our lives oscillate between pleasure and discomfort.

These conflicts appear at a moment's notice like thorns that one does not know where they have been pricked, and a vague uneasiness is expressed in the form of irritation. We drown ourselves in boredom to dilute it.
We often feel that our dissatisfaction with the status quo is a revenge by our past selves. The person I dreamed of being when I was a child was not like this. If I had worked harder back then, I wouldn't be like this. It is the continuity of time that makes us want to turn away from it, which is hard to describe as either longing or regret.