A Musical Genius Who Plays Memories - Chapter 46

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 46. Blue Night (4)

 

After washing my hands and feet, Father had set up a folding chair in the studio.

 

He left his usual chair empty and made it so I could sit down.

 

Father’s thoughtful gestures like this always made me happy.

 

I should learn to be like that too.

 

“Come on, son. Sit here.”

 

Father said this while patting the chair.

 

“I’m fine! Father, you sit down!”

 

“Hee-seong has a weak back, so if he sits in this chair his back will hurt. Dad is fine, so sit here.”

 

“Mm, okay!”

 

“And this will be over quickly. We need to eat too.”

 

Would that really be the case?

 

Even after eating, I would come looking for Father’s studio.

 

Because I had to compose.

 

I needed to show Father and get his opinion.

 

That was today’s purpose.

 

Before that, I would learn about city pop.

 

Now, it was time to study.

 

“Hee-seong, what do you think city pop is like?”

 

“Um… Since it’s city, urban? Is it city pop?”

 

“Haha, Hee-seong is right. City pop is… to put it simply, expressing urban scenery through music.”

 

Then what I knew was correct.

 

Music that expresses urban scenery.

 

Father’s explanation went like this.

 

It was like putting the urban scenery you see at night into a lunchbox and eating it bit by bit.

 

It was a genre that combined jazz, funk, and pop melodies with shining synthesizers and refreshing guitar performances.

 

When lyrics expressing the emotions you could feel in the city were added to that, it completed the city pop that flourished from the 70s to 80s.

 

“City pop was more popular in Japan than in our country. You know where Japan is, right?”

 

“Yes! I’ve listened to lots of Japanese songs!”

 

“Good, you should listen to music from all over. You know that song Mother sang last time? Is that a Japanese song?”

 

“Really? But the lyrics were in Korean…?”

 

“The lyrics were adapted. Dad will tell you about it later.”

 

“Okay!”

 

Father’s explanation continued.

 

Actually, there wasn’t much to explain.

 

Because I had already felt it myself.

 

“As I said before, what’s important in city pop is capturing the feeling of the city, understand?”

 

“I think I understand.”

 

“Mm, yes. As expected, it’s difficult… Huh? You understand?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Really…?”

 

There wasn’t really anything difficult about it.

 

I just had to express urban scenery in my own way.

 

It was like solving a difficult math problem using a formula.

 

Of course, I didn’t really have memories of going to school, so it was just an analogy.

 

“Yeah, that’s possible. Dad doesn’t know what our son feels, but you need to remember that.”

 

Because memories are precious.

 

That’s what Father seemed to be saying.

 

‘That’s why I play based on memories.’

 

Memories contain many things.

 

Besides emotions, the five senses like smell, taste, and touch could come to mind.

 

If not that, beautiful scenery might come to mind, or painful wounds might be visible.

 

I didn’t know it at the time, but there were things that only became visible as time passed.

 

That’s why music was interesting.

 

‘Even if you see the same thing, the songs written at the beginning and later are bound to be different.’

 

Of course, I couldn’t ignore that composition skills also improve and mature like wine.

 

But I think it’s more that the composer’s own thoughts and feelings have changed.

 

And because of that, the feeling of the song changes completely.

 

‘Because that’s what happened to me.’

 

For me, it was always natural.

 

In the past, I was always at home.

 

But very occasionally, I would go out for night walks.

 

I could have been attacked by street vagrants and starving stray dogs, but I still went out.

 

Because each time I could see something new.

 

‘It was always new. I liked the streets that were familiar yet awkward.’

 

That’s probably why I looked out the window at the scenery every night.

 

Sometimes the interior of shops would change, and I could notice when a police officer I saw passing by had gotten a scar on his face.

 

My surroundings were always changing, and to express that, I had to remember.

 

Because I couldn’t compose in the middle of dangerous streets.

 

I would distort things, and sometimes forget them.

 

‘Then, are those sceneries a kind of city pop for me?’

 

City pop was the story of the city.

 

If you think about it that way, if I expressed what I felt and saw, wouldn’t that also become city pop?

 

“Son! What are you thinking about? You’re not answering when I call.”

 

Father said this while snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.

 

I had forgotten about our conversation while thinking about the past.

 

I hurriedly listened to what Father was saying.

 

“Do you understand what Dad said?”

 

“Uh… Yes!”

 

“I’ll tell you again. Instruments are important in city pop. Synths and what else do we need?”

 

“Electric guitar!”

 

“Correct. But not guitar that goes ‘wham!’ like rock or heavy metal. You know why, right?”

 

“It ruins the song.”

 

“That’s not a bad way to put it. Right, the song gets ruined like Hee-seong said.”

 

He looked at my face for a moment, then stopped talking.

 

Tap.

 

Then he lightly touched my nose and smiled playfully.

 

“Let’s do this later. Mother is watching.”

 

At Father’s words, I turned my head slightly.

 

Mother was leaning against the doorframe, looking back and forth between me and Father.

 

It seemed she had been waiting for quite a while.

 

Mother’s expression was smiling, but veins were showing on her crossed arms.

 

“Continue. It’s interesting, so why are you stopping?”

 

“Ah, no! I’m hungry! Let’s eat quickly!”

 

“Hmm? You can listen more. We can eat slow.ly.”

 

When Mother said “slowly,” she emphasized each syllable.

 

We had probably taken up quite a bit of time.

 

Since I was listening intently, she probably couldn’t bring herself to interrupt.

 

Still, it seemed she had been continuously signaling to Father.

 

The messenger app was open on the phone in her hand.

 

And in the chat window, there were so many messages that Mother had sent.

 

‘Hmm. Sorry, Father.’

 

But thanks to that, we had a good time together, so Father must have been happy too.

 

…Probably.

 

***

 

After dinner ended, I came back into Father’s studio.

 

As soon as I sat in the chair, I recalled what Aunt Sujin had said.

 

That music depends on equipment.

 

But there was something that could surpass that.

 

It was overwhelming skill that completely devoured all equipment.

 

And I had Father.

 

“So… you want to compose together with Dad?”

 

“Yes!”

 

I kept repeating Jeong Mi-rae’s words that I heard this morning.

 

It would be nice if there were other instruments.

 

Those words had stuck in my head.

 

‘I did try to express everything with just piano.’

 

I’m not sure if you could call it a habit, but I tended not to use other instruments much.

 

Maybe because I hadn’t played them much, I liked expressing everything with just piano.

 

“So that’s why you asked me to teach you city pop?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“Hmm… Alright, Dad will help you.”

 

Curiosity was evident in Father’s expression.

 

If there had been a mirror in front of me, my expression probably wouldn’t have been much different from his.

 

Apart from being Father’s child, we were fellow musicians.

 

We might be feeling different emotions right now, but soon we would see the same thing.

 

“Then, we should create the melody first, right?”

 

“I already made one!”

 

After saying that, I scurried to my room and opened my preschool bag.

 

And I showed him the sheet music I had created last night.

 

“Ah, so this is what you made yesterday?”

 

“You were listening?”

 

“I was watching because Hee-seong wasn’t sleeping and was playing piano. I stayed quiet because I didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

“Hmm, that makes sense.”

 

“Hehe, our son is so cool as expected. Good. Then shall we try playing it?”

 

Father said that and moved aside so I could play the keyboard.

 

I sat in the chair and placed my hands on the keys.

 

And I took a deep breath before playing.

 

Meanwhile, Father was touching the equipment and adjusting something.

 

His profile as he concentrated looked cool.

 

“All done.”

 

After finishing all the checks, Father finally closed the studio door and let me know he was finished.

 

In sync with that.

 

Ding-♩

 

I also began playing.

 

However, this time was different from before.

 

Yesterday’s performance had too much packed into it.

 

I had tried to put everything I had seen into each and every note.

 

But I realized that didn’t bring good results.

 

Like a painting that disappears before you can even appreciate it, it didn’t stick deeply in your mind.

 

‘Light is diverse.’

 

Light had various colors.

 

As Mother said, it could become eyes, and as Jeong Mi-rae said, it could become something that hurts.

 

I thought it was reckless to try to express the scenery of light in its various forms with just one instrument.

 

‘So I’m going to try using other instruments.’

 

I got a hint from what Father had said.

 

I decided to try using synthesizers, electric guitars, and other instruments.

 

So let me try using piano first.

 

‘Piano, no, I’m creating a melody. The instrument isn’t important. That scenery is what’s important.’

 

The melody that would contain the core of the song.

 

It had to contain something special, not an ordinary scenery.

 

For me, it was the stream of Cheonggyecheon.

 

And…

 

‘Let me set aside the scenery of the past for now.’

 

Let me try expressing only the present scenery.

 

The stream.

 

Expressing the cool stream as a melody.

 

Like water flowing smoothly, the melody was also smooth.

 

First, I slowly released the strength from my fingers.

 

When I pressed one note and then pressed the next note, I lifted my hand very slowly.

 

I covered the last disappearing note with another note so the sounds could connect.

 

This was the stream I had seen.

 

‘The sound of water kept flowing.’

 

It never disappeared at all.

 

Neither did the stream and the lights that had lingered on its surface.

 

They might all change into different shapes and different colors, but their essence was the same.

 

The stream and light.

 

I had expressed the stream, so now let me try expressing something else.

 

Tan-♪

 

It was the beginning of the rhythm that would support the song.

 

Just as the melody was gentle, the rhythm was also gentle.

 

I simply played honestly, one beat at a time.

 

Right now I just wanted to express tranquility.

 

Because that was the piano’s role.

 

If the melody contained the tranquility of the stream, the rhythm went a little further from there.

 

I wanted to express the place itself that contained the stream.

 

‘Where water flows, people pass by, and cars pass by.’

 

That kind of tranquil scenery.

 

That was the rhythm’s role.

 

The 8 measures expressing what I had seen were finished.

 

Much of what had been packed in yesterday was gone, making me feel relieved instead.

 

The sketch was complete.

 

“Are you done? I recorded that performance just now.”

 

“Wow!”

 

As Father said, the monitor screen changed.

 

A yellow rectangular bar appeared in the program that had been empty.

 

That seemed to be some kind of indicator showing that it had been recorded.

 

“Now, shall we begin?”

 

Father said that and moved close beside me.

 

It seemed like he was going to teach me something important from now on.

 

“What did Heeseong express?”

 

“The Cheonggyecheon I saw yesterday!”

 

“So that’s why it was gentle. Then what will you express now?”

 

Father’s voice was kind.

 

Perhaps because of that, I pondered carefully.

 

There were so many things that came to mind.

 

All the things I had thought about last night began to come back to me.

 

But I cooled my head and made a decision.

 

“I’ve decided!”

 

The instrument that best suited the genre called city pop.

 

And I pictured a scene filled with light that would match it.

 

Father listened to my words and smiled broadly.

 

“Is that so?”

 

It seemed like he was pleased with it.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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