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From One Round of Applause to the Stage: Making ‘Boku no Oto’

I wanted to tell the story of a pianist who leaves a setback in classical music, moves to Tokyo, and finds his own sound, beginning with one person's applause at a station piano.

The dark-haired protagonist singing at a piano, with bass, drums, and guitar playing behind him

For “Boku no Oto,” I wanted to try telling a story across the whole music video. Its protagonist has suffered a setback in classical music. He moves to Tokyo, starts playing piano in a different setting, and gradually finds an audience for his own sound. The video follows him as far as a larger stage with a band.

The lyrics begin with chasing the “right” notes and end with the thought that he no longer needs someone else’s right answer. I used his hands and the pianos he sits at to connect those moments.

From a setback in classical music to Tokyo, one listener's applause, and a stage: the full ‘Boku no Oto’ music video.YouTubeで見る ↗

Three boards before the first cut

For the first time, I prepared an artboard and a scene board alongside the character sheet before making a full music video. The character sheet gathered the protagonist and the people around him. The artboard laid out the light and color of the practice room, station, city, and live stage. The scene board let me see how the story might move with the lyrics.

A character sheet showing the protagonist's clothes and expressions alongside his mentor, friend, station listener, and bandmates
The character sheet put the people he would meet on one page before I started building the video.
These were starting maps, rather than finished frames. Open either image for a closer look.

Some settings changed as I made the shots. The early boards showed a grand piano outdoors at the station. In the finished video, it became an upright piano in an indoor passage away from the ticket gates. I could see the whole story before starting the individual cuts, then adjust the details as the video took shape.

The hand that stops at the score

Early scenes return to a classical practice room and an annotated score. He looks at the hand that will not move. The lyric already says that he was afraid of making a mistake, so a pause at the keyboard can carry much of that feeling without adding a dramatic incident.

An annotated piano score and a metronome in the practice room
The score near the beginning holds both his time in classical music and his fear of getting something wrong.

He then leaves for the city. Moving from the practice-room piano to a public piano in a station-connected passage gives that move a visible shape.

One listener, one round of applause

The song describes singing near an empty station and being moved by one person’s applause. In the video, the upright piano stands against a wall in an indoor passage, away from the ticket gates. One passerby stops to listen and applauds. I kept this moment between two people rather than filling the space with a crowd.

The protagonist playing an upright piano against the station passage wall while one listener stands a short distance away
The pianist and the listener. Their distance helps keep the first response small and personal.

He does not have to erase his classical training to become someone new. As the chorus puts it, what he lost and the long way around have become part of him. That single response gives him a reason to try the next note.

Giving the change some time

Jumping straight from the station to a large stage would make his journey feel sudden. The video pauses at a notebook in his room, a smaller piano performance, a friend, and a band rehearsal before the final concert. More people enter the frame as he keeps making music.

Wearing headphones, the protagonist writes in a music notebook at a desk in his room
A quiet stretch of work between the station and the concert.

The song first reaches one person, then a small room, and finally a band stage. Between those performances, the video leaves room for him to write and choose what to play.

While building the storyboard, a second piano appeared in the background of one shot, and a notebook faced the wrong way for writing. I went back over the images and kept the station’s single upright separate from the single grand piano on stage. A picture can look convincing on its own while breaking the scene beside it.

Near the end of the edit, the empty station piano appears again. After the lights of the larger stage, it brings that first listener back to mind. I am still learning how to carry a story from the first note to the last frame, but this is the kind of music video I would like to keep making.

An empty upright piano in a station passage lit by the evening sun
The station piano returns near the end, after the performance scenes.
industrial / piano rock僕の音Open the song page for audio, lyrics, and notes.Explore this song →

Thank you for reading.

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