A Japanese proverb once said “One thousand days to learn; ten thousand days to refine.” What do you think of when you read this quote? People might learn one thing of significance and keep reminding themselves of it for a period of time before they come to realize something else that builds on that learned knowledge. This process can lead to a development of a new philosophy for the said individual and better their understanding as to why some things appear the way they are. For me, learning something that horrified me started a road to a new concept that I can have respect for something I do not like, especially if the meaning behind it is unknown.
I had been staying at my grandmother’s house for the summer. By that time, Dir en Grey had become one of my favorite bands. I had listened to every song they had released until that point and had watched every music video the band had made. Kyo’s mournful tone and occasional screeching in certain songs had captured my interest and managed to hold me in a trance whenever I listened to his voice. I could not understand Japanese, but the translations to the lyrics I had read led me to believe that if there were ever a feeling of love, hate, anger, joy, or pain, Kyo had felt it and was able to put it into words. Dir en Grey’s compositions convinced me that language was no barrier when it came to music; if a feeling was strong enough, the music could carry the message through. What I had not realized was that the music I had loved so much could be deceiving. “Tsumi to Batsu” was not defined as my absolute favorite song by Dir en Grey, but I thought it had an interesting sound. A combination of Die and Kaoru’s distinct guitar riffs, Toshiya’s strong bass foundation, and Shinya’s firm drumming pattern guided the beat, which resulted in a very rough sounding melody. The only word I could make out was “sexually” that showed up numerous times throughout the duration of the song in what I assumed to be the chorus....