F.A.E. WORKS — A Musical Manifesto
Music is an indispensable part of my life’s work. I simply cannot tell the story of who I am without it.
Even the name of this website, F.A.E. WORKS, has its roots in music.
The letters F.A.E. stand for Frei aber einsam — “Free, but lonely” — the personal motto of Joseph Joachim, the celebrated 19th-century violinist and close friend of the German composer Robert Schumann.
In 1853, Schumann, the young Johannes Brahms, and Albert Dietrich collaborated on a violin sonata dedicated to Joachim, incorporating the musical notes F–A–E derived from his motto.
The result became known as the F.A.E. Sonata.
To be free, yet solitary.
For me, these words are far more than an intriguing episode in the history of classical music. They express something fundamental about how I wish to live and create.
Nothing Expresses the Human Spirit Quite Like Music
Is there any art form that can express human emotions as directly as music?
Major and minor keys.
Driving, energetic rhythms and slow, intimate ballads.
Rock, classical music, jazz, blues, hip-hop.
The world of music is vast, and its possibilities for expression seem almost limitless.
Joy, sorrow, anger, longing, solitude, passion.
Sometimes a single melody can reveal emotions that words struggle to describe.
Music is a remarkable art.
And I suspect that almost everyone who truly loves music has, at least once, entertained a particular dream.
What if I could play like that?
What if I could turn my own thoughts into a composition?
What if I could give my emotions a voice through music and share them with someone else?
Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
Playing with My Own Hands, Singing with My Own Voice
But there is an obstacle.
Learning an instrument is difficult. Singing well is difficult. Composing music is difficult.
“I have no talent.”
“I have no musical ear.”
“I’m too old to start.”
Many people abandon their dreams before they have even begun.
Today, advances in information technology, artificial intelligence, and digital instruments have made music production more accessible than ever before.
That is undoubtedly an important development.
But I want to make my own position absolutely clear.
I want to create music that I play with my own hands, sing with my own voice, and record myself.
On this point, I am uncompromising.
I have no intention of dismissing the artistic value of electronic music or compositions created through digital programming. There are remarkable works in those fields.
But what I seek from music is something different.
The sensation of pressing a guitar string against the fretboard.
The moment my fingers touch the keys of a piano.
The movement of my body as I draw breath and begin to sing.
The tiny fluctuations that occur during a performance.
The frustration of failing to play a passage correctly, followed by the extraordinary satisfaction of finally getting it right.
And those rare moments when sound and emotion seem to become one.
To me, all of this is part of music.
Sometimes I am moved more deeply by a performance that reveals the presence of a living, breathing musician than by one that has been polished to technical perfection.
That is the world of music I want to pursue.
If You Have No Talent, Start Practicing
You say you have no natural ability?
That is no reason to belittle yourself.
Start from the beginning.
Practice diligently.
Sing without embarrassment.
Of course, I am not suggesting that hard work alone will turn everyone into a world-class musician.
Differences in natural ability certainly exist.
But using a supposed lack of talent as an excuse to close the door on your own possibilities seems a terrible waste.
A passage you could not play yesterday becomes possible today.
A note you struggled to produce suddenly rings out clearly.
There is genuine creative joy in these small victories.
I firmly believe that.
My Promise for F.A.E. WORKS MUSIC
Here, I want to make a promise.
The music I publish in the MUSIC section of F.A.E. WORKS will be music that I have composed, performed, sung, and recorded myself, as appropriate to each work.
I will not ask AI to generate complete pieces of music and then present them as my own creations.
Naturally, I will use digital recording equipment, editing software, and other modern production tools.
I have no intention of rejecting technology.
But the musical expression at the heart of each work will come from me.
There is, however, one exception for which I must ask your understanding.
Drums.
Given the realities of apartment living in Japan, installing a full acoustic drum kit at home and playing it whenever inspiration strikes is hardly a practical proposition.
So I am currently learning finger drumming.
Using my fingers to perform rhythmic patterns on electronic pads, I hope to create my own drum parts through actual performance.
This, too, is a new challenge.
Well, Now I’ve Said It
Having made such a grand declaration, I suppose there is no turning back.
I intend to compose my own music, play my own instruments, sing my own songs, record everything myself, and share the results with the world.
And having promised all that, I can hardly settle for the musical equivalent of an amateur school recital.
I want to create music that genuinely touches the hearts of those who listen.
That means more practice.
More study.
And above all, actually finishing the music.
At present, the skin on my fingertips is giving me some trouble, making instrumental practice rather uncomfortable.
For that reason, I am aiming to release my first musical work in approximately three months.
How far can I improve in that time?
Well then, ladies and gentlemen of the jury.
Will my music meet with your approval?
I must confess, I am a little nervous.
But having made this declaration, retreat is no longer an option.
Free, but lonely.
And with a sound that is entirely my own.
Let the journey begin.