by Taro Ishida
Hello, I’m Taro Ishida.
I’ve recently started something new: a project that’s somewhere between a podcast and a radio show.
It’s called “Ra.”
You might know me from the soundtrack of the 2024 series Shogun, where I arranged music based on Gagaku, the ancient Japanese court music.
Or perhaps from recent public lectures, where I’ve been speaking about traditional Japanese music in modern contexts.
Earlier this year, I gave a couple of rare concerts.
They were two-hour performances—but a surprising amount of that time was spent not on playing music, but on speaking to the audience.
Around the same time, I also found myself speaking in other settings.
And I realized something: I want to share more than just the music itself.
I want to talk about the ideas behind the music—where it comes from, how it’s shaped, and why it matters today.
So, in this first entry, I’d like to share why I, as a composer, feel the need to speak.
One of the biggest reasons is the rise of social media.
Platforms like X (formerly Twitter), Instagram, and YouTube have made it incredibly easy for anyone to share messages through words.
In the past, music often served that role. It carried messages—especially through lyrics.
Think of John Lennon singing “Power to the People.”
That phrase didn’t just live in his lyrics—it spread through radio and recordings, reaching people around the world.
For a long time, music was one of the most powerful ways to communicate ideas.
But now, if you have something to say, you can just post it.
You don’t need a melody to carry your message anymore.
This shift has changed how we relate to music—and what we expect from it.
At first, I worried that music was losing its power.
If it wasn’t carrying a message through lyrics, what was it doing?
But then I began to see things differently.
Maybe music isn’t losing anything.
Maybe it’s gaining something: freedom.
When music is no longer tied to words, it can express meaning through other means—
Through form, space, tone, structure.
Through beauty and silence.
This is something I’ve come to feel deeply through my work with Gagaku and other forms of traditional Japanese music.
In those traditions, the sound itself carries philosophy, emotion, and intention—no translation needed.
With Ra, I want to talk about these things.
Not just about music in general, but about the deeper ideas hidden in sound.
About Gagaku and other traditional forms that still have something to say today.
I want to explore how music communicates without words.
How it can still move us, teach us, and shape how we see the world.
Some of these reflections might feel abstract, and that’s okay.
If you're curious about sound, tradition, or the way ideas live in music, I hope you’ll stay tuned.
My plan is to post once a week or so.
If there's a way to leave comments or questions, I’d love to know what you'd like me to talk about next.
I’m not entirely sure where this project will lead—but I’m excited to find out.
Thanks for reading.
— Taro Ishida
