CreepHyp Presents: An Anthem for 30-Something Men (Part 1)

CreepHyp is a rock band that continues to captivate fans with its unique charm: heart-wrenching lyrics, fast-paced melodies, and a neutral high-pitched voice. Frontman Sekai Ozaki was interviewed by Hirotaro Abe of Dentsu Inc., also a member of the " THINK30 " project team supporting men in their 30s. We asked about their anthem for men in their 30s, "Twenty-Nine, Thirty."

Wanting to create a theme song to give men in their 30s a push

Abe: I first discovered CreepHyp about three years ago. I became utterly obsessed with them, couldn't sit still, and in 2013, I took a proposal—almost like a love letter—to their record label.
Now they entrust me with jacket designs and promotional creatives. Looking back, it feels like a miracle.
"Twenty-Nine, Thirty" started as a project centered around Motohiko Onuki, who co-founded "THINK30" with me. We talked about how we wanted a song themed around men in their thirties, and how wonderful it would be to have a theme song that gives a boost to men in their thirties striving in society. Since Mr. Ozaki was turning 30 this year (2014), I thought, "There's no one else but CreepHyp for this!" I still can't forget ambushing Ozaki-san at TOKYO FM to pitch the idea.
We just barged in suddenly and passionately talked about our newly launched "THINK30" and our thoughts on men in their 30s... Honestly, what did you think of us back then?

Ozaki: I genuinely found it interesting that people my age were trying to start something new. I liked the "I don't know how it'll turn out, but I want to do it, so I'm doing it" kind of energy. I also felt a real drive in their attempt to pursue something only people around 30 could do. I thought it would be great if I could help with that.

Abe: Did you have any reservations about accepting the offer to create a song?

Ozaki: Not at all. Honestly, I prefer creating music when I'm asked to. They reach out because they have expectations, and that gives me a real sense of being needed.
In fact, having a theme makes it more interesting and challenging. Besides, no matter the topic, it always ends up being a song I made, a song that's uniquely mine. The narrower and more niche the theme, the more fired up I get.

Do 30-year-old men "choose not to lose over gaining"?

Abe: The group I belong to, "THINK30," brings together creators like planners, copywriters, and designers who transcend corporate boundaries. We brainstorm products and projects daily to support men in their 30s.
The first thing we did after launching the team was an original survey targeting 1,000 men in their 30s.
We asked questions mainly about three areas: "Work, Private Life, and Communication," analyzing the mindset and behavior of men in their 30s. The results revealed characteristics like "not having a role model figure" and "choosing not to lose rather than to gain." Mr. Ozaki, you yourself have turned 30. How do you perceive these "characteristics of men in their 30s" from their perspective?

Ozaki: I think I understand. I myself don't particularly have anyone I'm aiming to emulate. I just want to test how far I can go with my own approach. However, I don't "choose not to lose."
For example, I wouldn't choose not to release a song because "not knowing the outcome is easier." Or rather, it's not that I wouldn't choose it—I couldn't choose it. You never know what kind of response you'll get, and it's often painful when a song doesn't reach people's hearts. But if you don't ask the world, nothing starts. It's not that I can't help but ask—it's more like I impulsively ask.
I make music with the intention of changing someone's life, so I'm driven solely by the desire to deliver it.

From a state of emptiness, squeezing out words to weave lyrics

Abe: During production, you seemed quite troubled, saying "the lyrics just won't come." What were you feeling at that time?

Ozaki: I couldn't see what I should say to people my own age. My driving force is simply this intense desire to be recognized by others. It's just as strong as the fierce impulse to "convey this message" or "speak for someone's feelings."
It's not just with "Twenty-Nine, Thirty"; it's like this with every song I write. Imagine a toothpaste tube that's been squeezed dry. That's the image – squeezing the tube until it's completely flat. Starting from a state where absolutely nothing comes out, where I feel I can't write anymore, and then squeezing and squeezing, forcing words out. It's an incredibly painful process, but I absolutely cannot write proper lyrics any other way. The more I have to say, the more my words blur and become useless. That's why I believe I have to empty myself completely and start from nothing.
"Twenty-Nine, Thirty" was written with the intention of capturing this very state of being completely stuck for words, just as it is. I believe I was still writing it during the recording sessions, and somehow managed to finish it just in the nick of time.

Abe: That's truly an extreme state... It was probably precisely because you were at your limit in so many ways that such "piercing" lyrics could be born.

Ozaki: That might be it. Every time lyrics are finished, I think, "I can't do this anymore, I absolutely can't write any more." But thinking that allows me to stand at the starting line. While feeling crushed by unbearable pain and the agony of having no way out, somewhere inside, I find myself excitedly anticipating the "beginning." Maybe I personally look forward to that moment when something is born from emptiness.

※The second part of this conversation will be published on Monday, January 5th.