The Spirit of the Old School

"First of all, since you've probably never released an album in Japan, let me explain a few things. You've likely already been notified, but we need to decide on a concept."

Ishimori stopped there and looked at the staff member across from him—specifically, at Ha Suyun. He wanted to see if she understood. And Ha Suyun was merely tilting her head side to side with a slightly bored expression.

Acting like that right from the start... kids these days...

"I did hear that your agency, Label Echo Sound, is providing some financial support for the production costs."

"Yes! That's correct!"

"But even with that support, keeping costs down is fundamentally important. Our priority is to work within the budget as much as possible, so it would be best not to aim for an overly grand concept."

With that, Ishimori slid over a document outlining three potential concepts he had drafted. As the materials made their way across the table, he began his explanation.

"These are the concepts I've put together. The first is the standard ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠girl band vibe. Think of famous groups like SCANDAL or SILENT SIREN... There are plenty of others, of course. The idea is to approach the public with a highly familiar image."

Girls in school uniforms, or dressed in outfits fitting their age group. Standing around in casual, free-spirited poses. A concept that could highly effectively showcase qualities like 'youth' and 'passion' while still appealing to their femininity.

This is definitely the best route. Especially since they have the looks for it...

Girl bands always depended on visuals to some extent. But looking at the face he had witnessed today, Ishimori was convinced that they couldn't lose if they went with this concept. It was also the direction he intended to push for today.

It's foolish to take another path when there's already a perfectly safe road right in front of you.

Since they had been self-producing, they undoubtedly had their own concept in mind, but Ishimori didn't care. Why should they go that way? Why take an unnecessary risk when there was a path with a high—almost guaranteed—chance of success?

"In addition to that..."

"We actually have a different concept in mind."

Just as I thought. Ishimori clasped his hands together and looked at Ha Suyun.

An aura that only a true beauty could exude—a mix of breathtaking elegance and chilling intensity—radiated from her cold face. Feeling slightly intimidated by her presence, Ishimori nevertheless spoke up.

"Well, I figured as much since you requested self-producing rights. But since this is a co-production, please hear me out first."

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

"First of all, the girl band scene in Japan is fairly formulaic as a genre. Naturally, a formula means that following it guarantees a certain level of success... and deviating from it means you'll be treated as an outlier, which could lead to failure."

They couldn't milk the "passionate girls' chaotic rock band challenge!" concept forever anyway. The smart move was to use it when it was most effective, build a solid fandom, and then transition to the music they actually wanted to make later. That was the textbook route for girl bands.

"In that regard, even if you already have a concept set in stone, it would be better to pivot slightly. Besides, it's not like you have to completely rewrite all your songs."

"Hmm."

As Ishimori finished speaking, Suyun twirled a strand of her hair and muttered something in Korean to Manager Jung, who was sitting next to her. Manager Jung immediately chimed in, "I'll translate for you!"

While Ishimori wondered if her Japanese was still lacking, Korean words flowed from Suyun's mouth.

"Well... I wouldn't say the 'youthful high school girl band' concept is bad, but we've already aligned our songs with our own concept, so we can't just swap the concept out on a whim."

"If that's the case, we could always restructure the tracklist entirely..."

"Please, let me finish. This is a co-production, so why are you the only one doing the talking?"

As Ishimori fell silent at her valid point, Suyun reached into her bag and pulled out a rather hefty stack of documents.

So she came prepared.

But no matter how prepared she was, and no matter how much artistic talent she possessed, she was still an amateur. It seemed highly unlikely that she could match the industry instincts and logic he had honed over years of working on countless band albums. Feeling a quiet sense of pride, he took the documents and began flipping through them. And his eyes widened.

Th-this is...!

Behind some illegible Korean text and a "(Working Title)" label, a title that looked like the album name was written in neat handwriting: Before 80.

And with every page he turned, Ishimori's astonishment only grew. True to the two words in the title, the images and designs vividly evoked the era of the 1960s and 70s.

Is the concept... retro? No, this is far too sophisticated to be called a mere retro gimmick.

With every page, the visuals stunned him. It started with minor, nostalgic details that anyone from that era would instantly recognize, and went all the way to obscure references that could never be found through casual internet searches or book research. It was a comprehensive archive built on incredibly meticulous, exhaustive research.

"All the songs we've written this time were composed specifically to fit this concept. I could play the entire album for you, but let's start with just one track."

While he was still reeling from shock, Suyun spoke calmly as she set up the speakers. And the song that flowed from them threw Ishimori into an even deeper state of disbelief.

"...My god."

The moment the track started playing, he couldn't help but let the words slip. He had no choice. This wasn't just a cheap imitation. It wasn't even a modern track merely inspired by the era. Nor was it a tribute, reminiscing about the past and paying homage to the masters. What lay before him was on an entirely different level.

It feels as if... she actually lived through that era herself...

Comparing the girl in front of him to himself, he was undoubtedly much closer to that era. He had lived through the tail end of it and had grown up heavily influenced by its culture. Yet, looking at these materials that achieved a level of historical recreation he himself would have found daunting, Ishimori realized something.

The album concept, the rough art design, the quality of the music, and the thematic execution—judging by all of these factors... this was bound to succeed.

There were plenty of reasons why Ishimori believed Before 80 would succeed. The desire to return to the musical roots of rock—the 1950s through the 70s—was a sentiment shared not just by creators, but occasionally by consumers as well.

Furthermore, Ishimori believed that the landscape of the modern music scene, dominated by explosive social media influence and viral marketing, paradoxically packed more gunpowder into these retro movements. It might be quiet now, but once it caught fire, it would explode uncontrollably.

And these girls are the ones who prepared the detonator...

Their interview at Rock in Japan had essentially set the stage for the embers of this 'retro' movement to ignite. And if this album was placed on top of that powder keg...

No matter how big the explosion is, it's going to have a massive, long-lasting impact.

This was precisely why Ishimori had reported to his boss, "I don't think they really need me." They had already set up the entire board ever since they arrived in Japan.

And with the board set up like this, Ishimori saw no reason to push for the standard 'girl band' angle. When they already had a concept they had poured so much effort into, forcing a different one would only get in their way.

Nevertheless, Ishimori remained actively involved in the production process. Even if they did most of the heavy lifting, the contract was still officially for a 'co-production,' and there were still areas where his expertise could offer valuable guidance. But most importantly, Ishimori and Ha Suyun got along surprisingly well.

After finalizing the tracklist, they entered the pre-production stage—the final check before diving into the actual recording sessions. Ishimori and Ha Suyun decided to run a preliminary recording ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of all the tracks first. The goal was to tweak and change as much as possible before the official tracking began.

"Hello!!"

"Nice to meet you..."

"It's a pleasure."

"Hello. You must be Group Sound."

"Yes! Did Suyun happen to mention anything about us?"

"Like what?"

"Like... badmouthing us, maybe?"

"Do you really have to bring that up?"

After exchanging greetings with the members of Group Sound who had just arrived in Japan and briefly explaining the workflow, they got straight to it.

"Alright, let's head in and give it a shot."

The members of Group Sound stepped into the recording booth and began tracking the songs. It was incredibly natural, as if they had been practicing these exact arrangements until just a few days ago.

"You don't need to aim for absolute perfection with the quality. It's just a scratch track, after all."

"Hmm..."

Suyun let out a slightly dissatisfied grunt at Ishimori's remark before heading into the booth. Ishimori wondered if something was bothering her, but decided to focus on the recording first.

"First track, let's go!"

Over an hour later, the members of Group Sound emerged from the booth looking slightly fatigued. Ishimori offered them some words of encouragement and then turned to the engineer.

"How did the recording go?"

"Well, it went fine, but... there's a bit of an issue here."

"What is it?"

At Ishimori's question, the engineer pointed to a section of the monitor. There was a slightly distorted waveform—not completely glaring, but definitely noticeable.

"It looks like some noise bled in from somewhere. I didn't catch it during the tracking. Hmm... where did that come from?"

"Oh, do we need to re-record it?"

"Well, we can just clean it up. It won't really affect the quality, and since it's just a scratch track anyway..."

"Hmm..."

I'd prefer to re-record it, though.

Ishimori stroked his chin thoughtfully. Even for a scratch track, leaving the raw source in a flawed state felt wrong. But on the other hand, he hesitated.

They're young, so they probably hate the idea of doing extra work for minor details.

In the old days, they would have re-recorded the whole thing without a second thought. With a sigh, he said, "Let's just clean it up then."

Just as the engineer was about to reply, "Alright, I'll do that—" Suyun walked over to them.

"No. Let's re-record it."

"Re-record?"

"Even if it's just a scratch track, the output should meet professional standards. Doing it over is the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right call."

"Do it over? Are you sure you're okay with that?"

Ishimori asked, his eyes instinctively drifting toward the other members of Group Sound. The three of them were staring back, wondering what was going on.

"We keep going until we get the quality right. That's what being a professional means."

Hearing those words, Ishimori had to fight a desperate urge to burst into applause.

This is a true professional. This is a real musician. This is the proper artistic attitude. Whether it was a scratch track or the final master, she refused to cut corners and poured her absolute best into every single detail. He looked at Ha Suyun with profound respect. When their eyes met, it felt as though he had found a kindred spirit.

"Alright, let's track it again!"

"We have to do it again? I thought this was just a scratch track..."

"Just do it. It's not like this is your first day dealing with Suyun."

While the two newly bonded soulmates enthusiastically prepped for the retake, Iseor muttered her complaints, and Seoha dryly replied. When it came to music, Suyun's promises of "it won't take long," "it won't be that hard," or "we'll be done in no time" were absolute lies that should never, under any circumstances, be believed.

And then, the first day of the official recording.

Hayasaka, who was sitting at his desk restlessly bouncing his leg while failing to focus on his paperwork, kept casting glances at the clock in the bottom-right corner of his computer monitor. Time felt like it was moving at an agonizingly slow crawl.

Of course, it wasn't because he wanted to go home. He just desperately wanted it to be 4:00 PM. That was when he would finally hear the news he had been waiting for.

And after what felt like an eternity of leg-bouncing, the clock finally struck four.

"I'm back."

At the sound of the familiar voice from the office entrance, he almost leaped out of his seat. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Using superhuman self-control, he managed to stay put, pretending to stare intently at his monitor as if he couldn't care less.

Yet, his ears were practically twitching, fully focused on the sound of footsteps approaching his desk.

"Hayasaka."

"...Y-yes?"

At the call, he turned his head with stiff, mechanical movements, trying his best to look calm. But he couldn't prevent himself from biting his tongue, prompting a muffled snicker from somewhere in the office.

"My boy..."

"Yes, sir."

"Outstanding job. You've brought in a massive catch."

Hayasaka's eyes widened. It was the exact validation he had been dying to hear. The words he had spent the entire day waiting for. It was the internal evaluation of Group Sound's recording session, delivered straight from Deputy General Manager Watanabe.