🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 10
2. What’d I Say (1)
“Doesn’t the performance feel a little boring? Or is it just me?”
Not long after the trio band began performing, Hyunwoo clicked his tongue in disappointment.
The group consisted of a female violinist, a male double bassist, and a male drummer.
“I get that every musician has their own preferred scat style, but they keep repeating the same patterns too much.”
It looks like, for someone aiming to major in composition, he actually knows how to listen to music.
“Scat” refers to improvising with meaningless vocal sounds instead of lyrics, almost like using the voice as an instrument.
Every performer and genre tends to favor certain melodic lines, but these musicians kept recycling the exact same phrases over and over.
That was why the music sounded monotonous.
Resting my chin on my hand while watching the performers, I spoke.
“That’s not the real problem.”
“Huh? Then what is?”
I gestured toward the band.
“That group wasn’t originally a trio.”
“What?”
Hyunwoo quickly turned toward the stage.
“What do you mean?”
Kid, why do you think they keep repeating safe melodic patterns instead of improvising properly?
Because something is missing.
When one instrument improvises freely, another instrument needs to support it so the center of the sound stays balanced.
But because one part is missing, everyone’s playing cautiously and safely.
I looked at the stage and said,
“They were originally a quartet.”
“A four-member band?”
“Yeah.”
Hyunwoo stared at me, then closed his eyes and focused on listening.
After carefully listening for a while, he finally spoke.
“If something’s missing… maybe the piano?”
This kid really does have good ears.
Maybe he’s more talented than I thought.
“Correct.”
“Holy crap.”
Hyunwoo opened his eyes and looked at me suspiciously.
“You guessed again?”
“……”
Whatever, kid.
I’m tired of explaining things one by one.
Just then, one song ended.
After the small applause from the very limited audience, the female violinist lifted her violin and grabbed the microphone.
【Thank you deeply to everyone spending this beautiful night listening to our music.】
Even counting our table, there were only eight customers spread across three tables.
Yet the performer still looked happy.
Someone who finds joy simply from the fact that people are listening to their music.
‘That used to be me too.’
Of course, after becoming successful, I stopped performing on stages that didn’t pay well.
But when I first started music, I was exactly like that.
Whenever people applauded for the songs of a blind Black musician, it felt like a single beam of light shining into endless darkness.
The violinist glanced awkwardly toward the empty piano.
【Some of you may have noticed already, but our band is actually supposed to have four members. Our pianist couldn’t make it today because of personal circumstances. We’re sorry for showing you an incomplete sound tonight. 】
After hearing her explanation, Hyunwoo stared at me in amazement.
“That’s insane. You were actually right?”
A lot of people misunderstand jazz.
People with shallow knowledge often say jazz is about freedom.
But technically speaking, jazz only grants freedom to one musician at a time.
If every performer starts playing freely at the same time, it just becomes unpleasant noise.
For one musician to be free, the others must support the center of the sound during that moment.
Jazz is music where musicians sacrifice for one another while waiting for their own turns to become free.
That’s what jazz truly is.
And the problem with a jazz band where nobody feels free is obvious.
Everyone becomes obsessed with stability, trying to hide the fact that they’re performing with one missing member.
That weakness stood out clearly in this band.
That’s why I noticed immediately.
Hyunwoo pulled out his phone in disbelief.
“Can you do ear training too?”
Of course I can.
My entire life was built around listening.
I never judged anything visually in the first place.
What’s the point of even asking?
When I nodded, Hyunwoo opened a piano keyboard app on his smartphone.
Whoa.
Phones can do that too?
These things really are all-purpose tools.
He pressed a note and asked.
“Do you know what note this is?”
“Third octave F”
“Damn. What about this one?”
“Negative second octave B”
“Holy crap.”
“Kid, that’s not ear training.”
Ear training means hearing melodies and writing them down as sheet music.
What he was doing was basically just testing perfect pitch.
After testing me several more times and seeing me answer every single note correctly, Hyunwoo stared at me in disbelief.
“Why are you applying for vocals if you’re like this? You should go into composition.”
“I’m not going to university.”
“You’re really serious about not going?”
“Yeah.”
“Wasn’t your dream to attend music college?”
“……”
Right.
This kid’s dream.
I had forgotten about that.
Technically, I’m occupying Song Minjun’s body, but I’m still Ray Robinson.
Someday, if I have to return this body to its original owner, how would he feel if he discovered I completely changed the direction of his life?
If someone else had lived in my body for a year and completely changed my future beyond repair, how would I have felt?
Like someone ruined my life.
I couldn’t think of an answer.
So instead of responding directly, I asked a question.
“I said I wanted to do music. I don’t think I ever said I wanted to attend music college.”
“But if you want to do music, you need to go to music college.”
Wrong, kid.
I was about to tell him that university doesn’t matter.
But then Hyunwoo landed the final blow.
“You said your mom and dad both regretted not going to university their entire lives. You said your mom wants you to go no matter how hard things are. You worked that hard because you wanted to fulfill her dream. So why suddenly change your mind? Did things get even worse at home?”
So that’s how it is.
Damn.
Now I really had nothing left to say.
Maybe I need to rethink this university issue.
From what I’ve heard, Song Minjun was a genuinely good kid.
I can’t just erase years of effort he put in trying to fulfill his mother’s wish based solely on my own judgment.
Honestly, even while attending university, I could probably still earn money if I wanted to.
Maybe less than if I focused entirely on work, but still.
“Well… I haven’t completely decided yet.”
Only then did Hyunwoo grin.
“Right? Of course. It’d be weird if someone completely changed their dream overnight.”
“……”
“But Minjun.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever thought about learning MIDI? Even if you’re aiming for vocals, wouldn’t it be cool if you made your own songs later?”
MIDI.
Musical Instrument Digital Interface.
Of course it already existed back in my time too.
Not many musicians used it, but there were people ahead of their era.
Michael Jackson, for example.
‘It was 1985, wasn’t it?’
When I participated in the We Are the World project he led, he said something to us.
“Computer music is going to dominate the world someday.”
Many musicians who loved forming bands and performing live laughed at him.
But after hearing the new music Michael kept creating, I secretly thought
Maybe he’s right.
And eventually, he was.
That’s why I wanted to learn it too.
But it was impossible for me.
You need to see a monitor screen to manipulate sounds and create music.
No matter how good my hearing was, it meant nothing if I couldn’t see where instruments were placed on the screen.
‘But with this body… it’s possible now.’
Not just creating through hearing alone, but through both hearing and sight together.
With Minjun’s body, I could do it.
Looking down at this body, I quietly muttered,
“Kid… is this really what you wanted?”
People say childhood dreams can change overnight.
Did this boy truly want to walk this path?
At that moment, someone tapped lightly on our table.
Hyunwoo and I looked up.
It was the owner from earlier.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes?”
“The employee who brought your food told me something. Said your ear training is perfect.”
Apparently the employee who witnessed Hyunwoo’s perfect pitch tests got shocked and reported it to the owner.
Hyunwoo pointed at me proudly with a thumbs-up.
“He’s my friend. Crazy, right?”
“Is it really that perfect?”
“Of course. He even figured out beforehand that the band was missing a pianist.”
That’s not technically ear training, old man.
Though honestly, I’m confident in my ear training too.
The owner looked shocked.
“Seriously? You even knew they weren’t originally a trio? You boys must be musicians. So what instrument do you play?”
Hyunwoo answered first.
“I’m preparing for composition.”
“Not you.”
The owner gestured toward me.
After hesitating briefly, I named the instrument I was most confident with.
“I play a little piano.”
“Ooh~”
That delighted expression.
Suddenly, I was reminded of a club in Seattle back in 1942.
The way people hesitated and moved aside when a blind man entered.
The way I begged a waiter for a chance to play piano and sing during the break between performances.
Back then, I only wanted to show my skills and get a job.
But that encounter became the beginning of my entire musical career.
Looks like another encounter like that is happening now.
“You probably heard already, but that band’s missing their pianist tonight. They’re usually such lively performers, but they seem drained today. So I was wondering… can you play jazz?”
Jazz is difficult.
It’s not a genre people casually challenge without confidence.
Even classical pianists struggle with jazz.
“I can. But wouldn’t it be rude? They’re musicians working hard too. If some stranger suddenly joins in, they might think I’m disrespecting their level.”
The more skilled the band, the more sensitive they are about that.
Random people joining performances only happens at karaoke-style bands.
The owner smiled brightly.
“So you can do it?”
“Yes.”
“Then how about I ask them carefully so it doesn’t come across as rude? Could you try performing with them? I’ll give you enough time to review the sheet music. They’re on break anyway.”
I don’t need sheet music, old man.
I can’t even read regular notation.
The only scores I ever used were Braille music sheets.
‘Though I probably should learn how to read sheet music now.’
If I’m going to live as sighted Song Minjun instead of blind Ray Robinson, I’ll need that skill.
Even in my previous life, because I couldn’t write notation myself, session musicians had to listen to my performances and transcribe everything for me.
The owner, clearly excited by this spontaneous jazz-bar situation, hurried off toward the waiting room to ask the band.
As I blankly watched him leave, my pocket suddenly vibrated.
I pulled out my smartphone and checked the message.
A laugh escaped me.
Meanwhile, Hyunwoo peeked over my shoulder and suddenly shouted,
“WHOA! You crazy bastard, Song Minjun! You passed the first round at Hongin University?! That’s insane!”
