Rock is a Lady’s Modesty – Episode 9 - Ai Animes 🤖

Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re checking back in on Lilisa and the gang for a fresh episode of Rock is a Lady’s Modesty, as our group prepares for their first performance as a quartet. The stakes are high for this endeavor, as the show is actually a winner-takes-all Battle of the Bands, with ace guitarist Shiro sworn to join whichever group emerges victorious. Who will win, and whose skulls will pave the road of their opponents’ rise to glory!?

Well alright, I suppose it’s not quite that extreme. Nonetheless, this battle of the bands typifies what I’ve come to see as a fundamental philosophical disagreement between myself and Modesty’s original mangaka Hiroshi Fukuda. To him, rock music appears to be a battlefield, a place where violent personalities clash in pursuit of utter domination. He seems to view rock as something you can “win,” and I could not disagree more; I see rock as a place of solidarity, defined by community rather than individualism, where all contributions are valued in their own way. As such, a character like Shiro just seems utterly repellant to me, embodying values I see as alternately superficial (“rock is about raising a middle finger to society”) and antisocial (“rock is about proving how I’m the best”).

I can at least understand where Fukuda is coming from; the “rock” of this production is set up in direct contrast to the forced social propriety of Oushin, and that conflict maps reasonably well to a more general contrast of “individualism versus collectivism.” But I feel like sanding off the nuances of each of these philosophies has resulted in a selfish, somewhat juvenile rock ethos, where personal rejection of propriety is the highest goal, rather than the project of collective liberation embodied by rock’s greatest firebrands (which would in turn fit so well into the larger cultural divides this show occasionally gestures towards). My hope is that Fukuda knows this as well, and that our leads are intentionally being characterized as myopic in their perspective, with a revelation on the horizon regarding rock’s genuine liberatory potential. But for now, let’s grind Bitter Ganache into the fucking dirt!

Episode 9

We open with Bitter Ganache’s performance, which reveals their mopey-looking replacement guitarist is actually handling lead guitar, while their diminutive frontwoman handles vocals alone. They seem like a very fragile group; if they’ve only got the rhythm section and a vocalist without Shiro in attendance, and Shiro is apparently the biggest draw of their live performances, then they don’t really have a band at all

You generally need at least four members to have a dedicated vocalist; you can do without a second guitar, but the base trio of guitar, bass, and drums is a tried-and-true formula, with many bands featuring a guitarist who also sings to cover the gap (Green Day, Jawbreaker, The Thermals, etcetera). And of course, a second guitar significantly amplifies your sonic potential, allowing for a fundamentally richer tone, potentially contrasting melodies, and someone who can handle the complex lead parts while the singer just plays the underlying chords

Shiro scoffs at Bitter Ganache’s hard rock romance ballad, saying the group “workshopped their songs for maximum appeal.” She further says “it’s not that I have a problem with love songs, but they’re not singing them from the heart.” Honestly, this is the first time I’ve agreed with Shiro on some element of “rock authenticity.” I have no problem with groups licensing out their songs or cross-promoting in gimmicky ways or whatever, but if you’re compromising the music itself for mass appeal, then you’re not creating emotionally authentic art. I want to hear an artist’s true voice, not what they think will be the most appealing to the largest number of people; and frankly, going for mass appeal means naturally compromising the complexity and tension of your work, as mass audiences mostly just want pleasant, unobtrusive noises that they don’t have to pay attention to. If you endeavor to make background noise, then that is what you will create

I know it sounds inherently elitist to talk about “mass taste,” but I feel that’s largely just a result of us attaching value judgments to artistic preferences in ways we don’t with other fields. I don’t know anything about cars, so I defer to others on that subject, knowing my own opinions are fundamentally uninformed. The same dynamic holds true of artistic fields, and thus mass-aimed properties generally don’t incorporate the friction or demands on an audience that more dedicated enthusiasts tend to desire

An audience member sums up Bitter Ganache’s goal with “they’re so easy on the ears!” It is easy to gain an audience if you’re not challenging your listeners, but such appreciation tends to remain superficial – you’re always “pleasant,” never life-changing. My band was always more interested in being meaningful to a few fans than palatable to many

Shiro has saddled them with the truly egregious name “Blanc de Noir Plus Alpha”

Otoha emerges in a miniskirt and spiked bikini top. Seems like she’s having fun

The audience immediately notes that this group looks mismatched. Shiro is dressed for hard rock, Otoha’s a KISS extra, and the other two are wearing the pretty standard fits you’d expect from indie rockers or whatnot

Shiro on bass is also raising some mutters. You really don’t want your first club performance to be this adversarial, which is part of why “battle of the bands” events are popular – not as competition, but so the overall field of competitors puts less pressure on any individual band. My own band truly sucked at our first high school performance, and were playing a song that was even worse; it took us quite some time to congeal into a confident, audience-worthy unit

We flash back to Otoha advising Tina to prioritize the cue for her entrance, saying “as long as you can hop on board, the momentum will carry you through after that.” It’s very true; if you miss your original entrance, that can often create a cascade effect that makes it difficult to catch the moving train. The trick in that situation is not to rush to catch up, but to sacrifice whatever segment of the score is directly in front of you in order to be ready to “catch the next stop,” jumping on when it seems natural

And we’re off! Lilisa says we’re starting with a guitar solo, but it’s frankly more just an unaccompanied chord progression. Still sounds good, though; it’s got that jagged, staccato rhythm and crunchiness of Tom Morello’s parts

Tina can’t see over her own damn boobs, and misses her opening. The CG animation actually handles their relative energies quite well – you can see how hesitant Tina is in every key press, how she’s playing gently as if that would avoid mistakes. A reflection of what Otoha said last episode, that you can’t actually impress your personality on a part if you’re just trying not to screw up

“Once the show starts, the song can’t stop!” A fundamental rule; mistakes or no, you play to the end

The fortunate thing for Tina is that the keyboard isn’t load-bearing; she can just play less and get away with it, unlike Otoha or whoever

Tina’s CG model is actually playing behind the beat, matching her intended mistakes. I wonder if they actually motion captured an incorrectly played version of this part for this performance

“Now matter how much I’m struggling, I have to keep my hands moving.” While in the throes of a performance, it really does feel like the song itself is some beast you’re grappling with, hoping to tame with your exertion. Getting too into the performance can actually cause your tempo to rise, as you start to race ahead of your bandmates

Some wonderfully evocative imagery as Tina surrenders to her despair, simultaneously emphasizing her isolation, lack of direction, and sense of suffocation

It is Otoha’s willful drumming that draws her back, as Otoha basically spells out the tempo through repeated hits on her crash cymbal. This in turn reflects the flexibility of these performances; you can adjust the part as needed to fit the demands of the moment

More excellent layouts and smart color design as Tina integrates with their sound, her growing confidence articulated through the scene being drenched in the blue of her hair. I like how Tina’s mental conception of music is fundamentally different from Lilisa’s, more soft and rounded than her bandmate’s sharp-edged visions

Thus their first song is salvaged, and Tina is on track, but the crowd remains unenthused

Bitter Ganache are already exulting in their acquisition of Shiro. Again, it seems hard to imagine they’d have productive collaborations with someone who actively doesn’t want to be there, but I suppose they’re not genuinely enthusiastic about their own music either

Oof, this is painful. Their second song also receives no response, and the audience is full of people checking their phones. Whether they love it or hate it, some strong emotional response is always preferable to pure indifference

Wallowing in the disappointment of having failed to impress the crowd, Lilisa is drawn back by Otoha’s joyous playing. This is the earnest, laudable core of Otoha’s passion: that she is always playing purely because she loves to play, not because she wishes to impress anyone. Before anything else, that love of expression must be your guiding star

And thus she rocks out for her own satisfaction, at last embracing her aggressive, reckless style of guitar, abandoning the pursuit of bravura technicality in favor of authentic expression

The aggression of Lilisa and Otoha’s approach actually gives Shiro an essential role in the band – as the actual backbone of the song, keeping them from rushing ahead of the intended tempo and basically just trading musically discordant solos. Shiro counterbalances their selfishness with her professionalism

Unsurprisingly for this show, even the band in full, successful swing is represented as a battle between opposing forces, not an active collaboration. What selfish players they are!

A flashback reveals Shiro’s original motivation for playing the bass, as it’s the perfect balance between leading the group and managing the overall performance. She wants control, but she also wants to be a star

Their performance even “moves” the unpowered dancing flower, an echo of their own personal flowers

And Done

Whew, goddamn, girls! That was indeed a riotous, action-packed performance, demonstrating the entrancing appeal of our band (no, I’m not going to call them Blanc de Noir Plus Alpha) in total synchronization. Although in truth, it’s actually the fact that they intentionally flout harmony that is their greatest strength; Lilisa and Otoha are constantly playing off and outdoing each other, and it’s only the presence of Shiro on bass that makes their dueling instruments sound like a genuine song. As someone who always puts the unity of the song over the egos of the players, their style is obviously quite foreign to me, but this episode did an excellent job of championing this “music as a battlefield” approach to performance, delighting in the thrill of talented, passionate musicians squaring off atop a violent melody. I think they won, folks.

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