[Zeke.]

Originally Posted by Chibi-Chan

^Exactly. I totally feel what you're saying with the "to stop believing in the magic" part. I feel as if especially younger fans and people who follow her not as long don't care as much about this as others do. But as a fan for almost 20 years, it almost breaks my heart to not be able to feel and experience the magic anymore since quite a while now. I don't want a "good" or "decent" release, I want a "magical" one. Ayu is my favourite artist, because I know she can create something magical and I'm holding her to her own standard when it comes to new releases. If this is what A BALLADS 2 is going to look like, she is making a mockery out of the original one. I wouldn't care as much if she would have announced "A COMPLETE BALLAD COMPILATON" instead. It would have been clear what to expect from the beginning. But calling this A BALLADS 2 sets a standard and an expectation and especially her long time fans who remember the release of the original one will be disappointed.

Exactly. I posted this analogy a while ago describing the phenomenon and the sad sort of demise of it, called something like “The Door” - I think about it often because it really captures the scenario well for me.

I think also, singles provide for the opportunity to deliver a concept. A mini "world" and environment can be fleshed out from the songs and turned into a visual spectacle. It allows for a bit of extravagance, and the world of Hamasaki Ayumi seems much larger and expansive when you look back on a year and see all the different places she took you with her paintings of works. It's like the door opens every 3 months and it's a new place to explore, a new vision to be seen. I miss that feeling of waiting for the door to open again, and the curiosity as to what we will be shown this time. As the release date grew closer, we'd all have our ears pressed to that door, peaking through its keyhole. We'd begin to see a glimpse and hear muffled sounds (covers, snippets, CM spots) - processing the tease of what's to come. That's how I remember it.

It happens once a year now, and it seems to close faster than ever before. Also, it rarely feels like a world at all anymore. It's like a closet door with creaky floorboards and cobwebs. You can tell someone made an effort to clean it up; there are finger trails left in the piles of accumulated dust - but you always feel like more of an effort could have been made to really make that room shine. And you think to yourself "ah, I guess this is how it is now," and you try to accept the fact. But, when you leave that room, and after the door shuts once more, you can't help but wonder if when the next time it opens, what it would be like to see the room completely luminous again.

We’re all crowded around that door right now. Hoping and expecting that when the door opens, it will dazzle and bask us in light.