I've been involved with Japanese music for more than 25 years, and there's something that has puzzled me for almost as long.
The video message.
You know the one.
An artist stands in front of a perfectly white wall. Nothing around them. Fixed camera. Neutral lighting. Sometimes they look slightly uncomfortable.
“Hello, we are…”
And every single time, a tiny part of my brain thinks:
Blink twice if you need help.
I can see the appeal. A neutral background removes distractions. No unwanted brand appears in the frame, and the resulting video can be used almost anywhere.
It's practical. It's safe. Nobody can complain about the wallpaper.
Neutrality is cultural too.
What looks clean and professional in one country can communicate something quite different in another. To an overseas audience, that empty room, static framing and solemn delivery can sometimes look less like a special message from an artist and more like a proof-of-life video.
I'm exaggerating.
But only slightly.
And what bothers me isn't the white wall itself. It's what happens to the artist in front of it.
I've seen musicians who seem perfectly comfortable expressing themselves through their music become strangely stiff when asked to deliver a few sentences to a camera. Their personality disappears behind a format that was presumably chosen to let them speak directly to their audience.
That's a shame, especially when the video is intended for people who may be discovering them for the first time.
It's something I wish Japanese labels and management teams would consider more often when preparing material for overseas audiences: localization isn't only about translating words.
Images need translation too.
So do press photos, artist biographies, interviews and the way information is presented to foreign media. A perfectly acceptable promotional format in Japan won't necessarily produce the same impression in France, Brazil or anywhere else.
And I'm certainly not suggesting that Japanese artists should imitate Western artists. That would miss the point entirely.
The whole idea is to let their own personality travel better.
Put them somewhere they feel comfortable. A rehearsal room, a recording studio, backstage before a concert. Somewhere that belongs to their world. Let them move, laugh, hesitate or say something unexpected. Give them something to talk about beyond the usual scripted greeting.
A video doesn't have to look expensive or elaborate. It just needs to feel as though the people in it are allowed to be themselves.
The white wall has done nothing wrong.
But after 25 years, I think it deserves a break.