The banality of cutting edge

In the course of creating and performing music, I once had such thoughts as "making new music that no one has ever heard before," "making music that has never been done before," and "cutting-edge music."
To create original music that could not be found anywhere else, that was my ambition and goal.
I say this in the past tense, but it does not mean that my creative drive and ambition have become a thing of the past. I would like to think about that.

I have always hated music that is a crack-up and has not a shred of respect for the work or the artist, and I feel angry whenever I come into contact with such music or works. I am always focused on such terrible works and situations in Japan, but I don't know what is going on overseas. During the two years I lived in the U.S., I never had the same experience as in Japan, where I was violently forced to listen to music I did not want to hear on TV or on street corners. Maybe there is a lot of such terrible music and works abroad in the deep everyday world I do not know about, but I am not sure.

The anger and musical ambition that I harbor poses a number of questions for me.
The idea that I dislike Japanese music without sincerity makes me ask myself if I am making music that is sincere and Japanese.
The ambition to create cutting-edge music has the contradiction that the music is no longer cutting-edge as soon as it is created, and as a result, it becomes clichéd and "trendy" as of today.
The same is true of formal destruction and noise. As I considered last time, an avant-garde style that attempts to break the mold quickly becomes the very mold that is to be broken next as its methods become commonplace.

The anger and ambition that motivate one to create will attack oneself, multiplying self-contradictions if not handled with care.
And in the end, one becomes sick in confusion or unable to create anything.

What does it mean for me to pursue sound and creation? When making music as a matter of one's soul, one must carefully consider the direction one's pursuit should take. Something new. Something that has never been heard before. To bet one's creative passion and soul on it is dangerous unless one is well aware of its meaning.

When we pursue our own sound, music, and creation, where is the right direction to go? What does it mean to pursue creativity without being limited to being cutting-edge, avant-garde, or original?
This question is very difficult to answer, but when you think about it, there is only one person who can answer it: yourself.
It must be something that makes me fly away.
It must be something that makes me tremble.
It must be something that uplifts me.
It has to be something that makes my body move.
In other words, my own senses and values are the criteria for my work.

Is that the answer?
This sounds simple, but it is not easy.
If what uplifts and excites me is the criterion for my creation, then my senses and values must be constantly refined.
How do I see the world and people?
Do I have values that are worthy of judging my work?
Do I live my life in such a way?

To look to oneself as the standard by which one judges one's own creations is not possible without continually refining one's own senses and sense of values.
If your own senses become rusty, your sense of judging your own work will also become rusty.
It boils down to the obvious statement that in order to polish one's own work, one must be polished oneself.

While going around in circles like that, I just have to polish and train myself.
And I just create music.
That's all.
(June 12,2022)