Analytical Otaku

Young Justice isn’t getting a third season. This is immensely disappointing, because the show hasn’t been around that long. There’s still a lot of momentum to the story, and I haven’t had my fill of the amazing characters. There are thousands of comic stories the series could draw on.

But that’s the thing. The DC Universe has so many stories, subplots, and characters to draw from that it would be impossible to fit them all into one show. Yes, Young Justice ending is sad. I would love for the series to last longer and develop the characters more. However, you can rest easy knowing that this isn’t the last time we’ll see these characters and their stories animated.

In a way, Young Justice ending now is better than the show dragging on longer than the creators planned. They have a story they want to tell, and after they tell it, what’s the point in continuing? Just look at Teen Titans. That show was amazing, and everyone was disappointed when it ended. Fan interest remained high. And what do you know, they actually have plans to bring it back. As a sketch comedy. Yay.

I won’t judge Teen Titans Go! before I see it, but part of what made the original Teen Titans awesome was that each of the characters had their own arcs; they developed independently and as a team. Their stories have already been told. That’s probably the reason this new incarnation is going to stay away from continuity or character development.

All good things must come to an end. After a while, a cartoon loses its drive, or the main creative team loses passion, or whatever. Look at shows like Spongebob, Fairly Oddparents, and a wealth of others that continued past their expiration date. Young Justice ending only means that there is room for a new creative team with a different vision to tell a tale starring teenage try-hards. Yes, there is no guarantee that the next incarnation will be good. But there wasn’t that guarantee when Teen Titans ended. If the producers had decided to continue that show forever, we would have never gotten Young Justice. Who knows what good shows are just a few years away? Small condolences, I know, but endings are only as sad as you make them.

Who knows, that next great show could be Beware the Batman. Or not. Once again, I'll withhold judgement until it comes out.

Do you like comics? Check out my post about Stephanie Brown. 
Or if you're more of a cartoon person, read my Old vs New debate.

Last time we talked about how video game objectives can influence how much a player values something. The careful designer can set up an objective that forces the player to temporarily adopt a value-set that is not their own.

 Speaking of forcing their values on players, Every Day the Same Dream is an indie game with a bleak outlook on life. The player is stuck in a vicious cycle of waking up, getting dressed, and going to work. The only way to “beat” the game is to go against the system. The player must accomplish five tasks. They are given no instruction on what they are supposed to do, but must figure it out for themselves by going against the flow. For example, one of the tasks involves going to work in their underwear and being fired by the boss. Another task involves the player throwing themselves off the roof of the building where they work. The goal of the game is to break out of the everyday routine and have players think for themselves. The player is forced to “fight the man,” regardless of their current job satisfaction. And because being a free-thinking douche is the only way to win the game, the game advances an anti-establishment doctrine.

What’s more, the way players accomplish this goal is rhetorical. Players are rewarded for suicide in the sense that it helps them progress in the game. The sparse bits of dialogue in the game don’t mention the main character dissatisfaction or frustration. The game never tells you that it wants you to refuse labor and become an individual. It doesn’t have to. Simply by making that a goal, the game illustrates its argument to the player. If you sit down at your desk and work like a good little drone, then the cycle repeats ad infinitum. But by throwing social norms to the wind, players are rewarded with advancement. It’s positive-reinforcement for rebellion.

Portal also preaches an anti-establishment rhetoric. In the beginning of the game, you are in a lab undergoing a battery of dangerous tests (for science!). An anonymous voice instructs and encourages you over the intercom. Players are given little context for what they are doing and who they are working for. Even though they’re kept in the dark, the only way to move forward is by completing the tests. The players have no choice but to abide by the rules of an unknown force.

As the game progresses, the disembodied voice shows signs of impairment and malfunction. Still the only option is to continue through the tests. Things change when the computer running the tests tries to dump the player into the furnace. The tables are turned, and now the only way to survive is to rebel and find a way to shut down the malicious computer running the facility. In this way, the players are both literally and figuratively encouraged to bring down the system.

Portal puts gamers in a situation where they have to blindly follow the voice of authority. Then the game takes that authority and makes it insane and unreliable. Players are forced to rely on themselves, not an anonymous authority. The game is a sort of pro-solidarity/ anti-authority science-fest.

Visit the main video game rhetoric directory here.

View Part 1 of video games and goals.

View Part 3 of video games and goals.

Check back in a few days for the next part in the series!

I don’t like pop music. I think that’s pretty well established at this point. However, pop music has one thing going for it: you can dance to it with your friends. In the words of the Nostalgia Chick, “Pop music is the lowest common denominator.” It’s designed to have a very broad appeal, to use whatever passing trends are popular. Maybe Vocaloid songs will one day have that kind of reach. I don’t know, and I’m not going to make unsubstantiated predictions. What I do know is this: the user-generated format means that there will always be room for both popular and niche genres.

By niche, I mean things like narrative songs, techno, electro, and whatever the heck you call the song below. 

Because Vocaloid music is user-generated, they can target any audience they want. All it requires is someone with a song in mind and the courage to try making it. This means that the difference between fan and contributor is negligible. Anyone can make a Vocaloid song, theoretically speaking. The songs they make may suck, but it is very possible.

With such a large source of potential contributors, there is plenty of room for niche genres. Unlike financially-backed productions, an artist doesn’t have to worry about target audience or marketing (granted, it wouldn’t hurt). The target audience will find them.

Right now, Vocaloids are still fairly young, making them a niche genre all on their own. However, as the fandom continues to grow, sub-communities will form. So for now, maybe the only pace you can meet to talk about Vocaloids is VocaloidOtaku or the Vocaloid club on deviantart. However, as the fan base grows, it will splinter and subdivide into more specialized groups focusing on a particular interest. For example, all sci-fi was once lumped into one hazy genre, but nowadays you have subgenres like space opera, post-apocalyptic, steam punk, etc. A person might like Gattaca but hate Star Wars. While some people bemoan a fanbase splintering, it actually streamlines finding people with similar interests. If you know exactly what you like, and have a name for it, then you can find it easier.

While Vocaloid hasn’t reached that critical mass yet, it’s only a matter of time. Mainstream music takes decades to evolve, slowly reacting to new technology and listener tastes, but user-generated songs can change from day-to-day. They define themselves, so they don’t need to adhere to the conventions of a genre. All they have to do is think of a name for what they’re doing, and if people like it, then similar stuff appears. That’s what user-generated content ultimately means: constantly branching out while still leaving room for everyone’s tastes. So if there isn’t Vocaloid music you like yet, give it time. There will be.

You guys remember that dandy article I wrote about stupid pop songs? Well, Vocaloid songs aren’t excused from nonsensical lyrics. However, they key difference is that Vocaloid songs are user-generated. That means most of the songs (with the occasional exception of bands like Supercell) are made by one person. Of course some of them are wildly stupid or esoteric. However, it also means that the artist is in charge of their work, and not big record labels.

Even though some pop stars write their own songs (Lady Gaga, Ke$ha, Taylor Swift, etc.), that doesn’t mean they have total control over their music. They work for record labels, who work for money. No, the record labels don’t dictate what the artist does (this isn’t some crazy conspiracy theory). What they do is good business: they help the artist brand an image they think will sell.

If you don’t have the “sound” the record label wants, then you don’t get sold. In an industry as over-saturated with hopeful musicians as mainstream music, there is no room for what a band wants. It’s what the record label is willing to sign, and if the band and the record label match up, then everything works out. However, the other 99% are left out of the loop. Not necessarily because they’re bad, but just because they aren’t what the industry is looking for.

I’m not trying to demonize record labels (I save my demonizing for publishing houses). It’s not their fault that there are so many more bands than there are slots in the top forty. All they do is make the same decision any rational human being would: pick the bands that are most likely to sell. And not all the artists record labels sign suck. However, neither do all the bands they turn away.

Vocaloid music provides an excellent middle-ground. Yes, if a song makes it big KarenT (the Vocaloid record label)  picks it up for distribution. However, that’s not the only way to find artists. Almost all of my favorite Vocaloid songs were found through old-fashioned browsing the internet. I listen to probably a hundred new songs every week, just clicking through related videos on Youtube or posted by some of the people I subscribe to. And I listen to a lot of crap. However, every time I find a song that rocks my socks, I take a little pride in knowing it was my choice to listen to that song, and not the record company’s.

Vocaloids put the power back into the hands of the people who generate the songs. The whole Vocaloid fandom is one made by fans, for fans. Everything from the PVs to the songs to those silly little fanarts you find on the web. It’s a community that decides for itself what will be popular. That’s a kind of power that’s worth viewing a few crappy videos for.

What do you think? How does user-generated content affect the way media is marketed and made? Is having an interactive community important to enjoying something? Let me know!

How is this relevant? Well, one of the most beautiful things about the Vocaloid fandom is that many of the songs are narrative. As already stated in my previous post, you don’t need to understand the lyrics to appreciate a song. I would contend that the same is true for stories. When the notes and composition are tight, you can create feeling and conflict without retreating to words. Take opera as an example. Many of the most beautiful memorable operas are in foreign languages, like Wagner’s Ring Cycle or Madama Butterfly. 

Even if you don’t speak the language, you can still appreciate the story. Of course, having actors and translated lyrics certainly helps.

Fortunately, thanks to the magic of the internet and bilingual, artistic nerds, many Vocaloid songs have a new-age equivalent. Several songs are subtitled, and they come complete with animated music videos. These are called PVs, and they vary wildly in quality, but they help illustrate the story. Take a gander at one of my all-time favorite songs and see. 

With the internet, it really isn’t that hard to find the translated lyrics to a song. And while songs should stand by themselves, it’s amazing the kind of awesome sagas people make with singing software. There is mothy, one of my favorite producers, who weaves some of the most delightful dramas about the damned, or Machigerita’s creepy Dark Woods Circus series, or Kokoro. The list could go on forever.

How many mainstream songs make the effort to tell a cohesive story? Not very many. And with many modern music videos shifting to pointless post-modernism over actual content, PVs are a refreshing break. They aren’t over-glitzed, senseless spectacle (most of them, anyway). Instead, the stories they tell add an extra dimension to the songs.

Remember when Lady Gaga made a narrative music video? Remember how it made no sense, and the only reason people watched it was to see her strip?

What do you think? Are there any mainstream songs that tell stories that I’ve overlooked? Because I’d love to hear about them!

Part 4:

“Do you understand what they’re saying?” This is question #2 people ask when they learn I listen to Vocaloid. The majority of Vocaloid music is in Japanese (and even the stuff that is in English is kinda…indecipherable). Except for a few useless stock phrases, I don’t speak Japanese.

So why listen to music if you can’t understand the lyrics? The irrelevancy of this question makes me giggle. Let’s face it: there is absolutely no correlation between the profoundness of a song’s lyrics and its popularity. For evidence, observe exhibit 1:

No one’s going to dispute the sheer stupidity of Rebecca Black’s lyrics, but she isn’t the only offender. Pop songs are infamous for their nonsensical, silly lyrics. Here’s a few gems in recent years:

They may have the same hair style, but only one of these singers has a personality (hint: it's KAITO)

My point isn’t to trash pop music (although I admit I enjoy doing it). My point is that there is more to music than lyrics. These songs are popular for the feel they have, for the combination of beat and rhythm and harmony. Lyrics are not necessary to make a song great. After all, many classical pieces (Beethoven’s 5^th Symphony, Canon in D, In the Hall of the Mountain King, the list goes on) do not need words to convey emotion.

The same goes for Vocaloid songs. Even if you can’t understand the words, the songs do a great job of creating mood. For example, listen to the somber yearning of AVTechNO!’s Darkness Six: 

Or check out the strength and unity in The Pair Tree Wither-er:  

These songs convey emotion whether you understand the words or not. Just like fans of techno or dubstep, Vocaloid otaku don’t need corny lyrics to enjoy a song. Real music should be felt through the notes.

Of course, that’s not to say that lyrics aren’t important. Many Vocaloid songs are narrative, telling captivating and meaningful stories. That’s for the next post, though. Until then, get out there and listen to your music, wordless, foreign, or otherwise.

What do you think? How important are lyrics in a song? Would you rather have meaningful lyrics or powerful melodies? Let me know!

Part 3