Hello folks, and welcome on back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re checking back in with Lilisa and the gang for a fresh episode of Rock is a Lady’s Modesty, as the band solidifies in the wake of their semi-successful stage performance. Though they didn’t end up resonating with the crowd, their opponents in Bitter Ganache were nonetheless forced to concede that Shiro was exactly where she belonged, tethering her exceedingly selfish bandmates to something resembling a stable melody. Thus our initial lineup is apparently set, with dueling guitar and drums restrained by an overwhelming bass while Tina just plinks away having a merry time of her own.
It is indeed a lopsided group, one whose dynamic speaks to the spirit of individualist rebellion embodied by Otoha and Lilisa. But as Shiro noted last episode, this too can be a form of earnest friendship or even solidarity, the tonic of sincere critique in a lifetime of mealy-mouthed prevarication and under-the-table social sniping. Our girls have found a place where both their sharp edges and secret passions can be cherished; now let’s see how they continue to corrupt Lilisa’s beloved stepsister!
Episode 11
We return to the club room with Shiro coaching Lilisa on her sound. I appreciate that you actually can hear the improvements in Lilisa’s tone; she’s hitting even individual strings with more impact now, performing slight slides with many of her strums to create a sharper, more “angular” sound. Creating rock music is basically always some form of negotiating with dissonance, and Lilisa clearly wants her solos to sound like chewing on a mouthful of beautiful stained glass
I wonder what insults our translators are converting to “friggin’ noob” and the like. I don’t think any young person has called another a “noob” since maybe 2007
“Put more emotion into that part!” It can be difficult from an outside perspective to appreciate the nuances of great guitar play, as basically anything past simple proficiency goes beyond “playing the notes correctly” and into the realm of collectively articulating them with a certain emotional slant, a miniscule series of gradations in how fully you articulate each note, and how loosely you play around the theoretically rigid meter. Great musicians make the difference of expertise as clear as a coyote competing in a sing-off with Freddie Mercury
“Play it as if you’re slurring.” A great guitarist can put a clear accent on whatever they’re playing, executing on a range from drunken rambling to icy articulation
“It seems like Miss Shiraya is Miss Lilisa’s teacher now. This is the kind of wonderful thing that can happen when you start a band.” Otoha continues to act as the bridge between worlds, maintaining her ladylike mannerisms even in the midst of a band practice, and even seeing in her two bandmates an echo of the senpai-kohai bond so common in class S dramas. For her, neither affectation is a disguise
Otoha tells Tina she was impressed by how she sought out the sound of her drums during their performance. Seems Otoha does have some appreciation for the earnest communal aspect of musicianship, even if she normally frames her passion in terms of her own satisfaction
“People who try hard but suck kill the band. And worse yet, those types always put the blame on themselves. To the extent that it kills them, too.” Shiro actually seems a bit more secretly empathetic than Otoha; however, she apparently distrusts this empathy, and thus scares people away before they can get close to her
And Tina actually notices this, putting on a gallant prince act to thank Shiro for her gesture. This is important work; the band should feel like a unified collective with a variety of individual bonds, and the Tina-Shiro dynamic was the last we needed to flesh out
Well, the Tina-Otoha bond could also use work. But frankly, Otoha is such a cipher of a character that it’s hard to feel like anyone is meaningfully close to her; she is the only one who has revealed nothing of herself, who has offered no meaningful context for the duality of her identity
Outside the window, Alice is starting to lament that Lilisa never shares this joyous side of herself with her
A nice, intimate moment with Lilisa as she image-trains herself into theoretical success at the student council. We obviously needed to dedicate some time to pulling the band together, but I think this show is at its best when it’s contrasting the anxieties of Lilisa’s surface life with the release of her rock music
President Fujimurasaki remains ominously unreadable
The president acknowledges Lilisa’s efforts, but notes she’s breaking the rules by bringing up these issues at teatime. There’s a thin line Lilisa must walk, where she is consistently appreciated for her efforts, but never considered “ambitious,” as that is unladylike. Fujimurasaki wields the exacting standards of this school like a rapier
“All of this is to protect Mom.” I wonder if there’s some specific reason Lilisa remains so loyal to her seemingly awful mother. Perhaps it’s simply the threat of losing another parent
She bumps into Yayoi Takayanagi, the Noble Maiden of six years ago, who overhears her lamenting her desire to play guitar
Apparently the school’s new grounds are quite recent, as Yayoi attended classes in the old schoolhouse
And now she wants to see the school’s new music room. So here we have our bridge, a character who can connect Lilisa’s two desires, who can hopefully provide a path towards Otoha’s apparent synthesis of her identities
“Prioritizing things you love over parents and rules doesn’t seem like something a lady from this school would do.” This is a school based on restrictions, but those restrictions apparently need not imply an absolute denial of self. Both Otoha and Shiraya seem to have found a kind of authenticity in their “performances” – can Lilisa become so fluent in navigating this world that she can accomplish the same?
“Neglecting what I’d like to do in the current moment would be far more problematic.” Of all the potential qualities to embody as a reflection of her rebellion, apparently we’re going with “it’s never wrong to just do what I wanna do.” This far into the series, it seems clear that rock is never going to embody anything more than an adolescent sense of rejection, an individualism based purely on self-satisfaction. I suppose that might sound more revolutionary coming from a rigidly collectivist society, but I do wish this show set its ambitions a little higher
Nonetheless, this invitation is still crucial for Lilisa, who is already asking herself if it’s okay to stop playing pretend. At a certain stage in development, many of us could use a rallying cry no more complex than “it’s okay to do what you want, it’s okay to be who you want”
She says that Lilisa is free to call her Yayoi, casually casting aside several layers of assumed formality
The school principal has the same color of hair as the student council president, which could either imply a direct familial relationship, or just be used to create an aesthetic link between these two pillars of authority. Choices like that can create a subconscious connection between concepts in the audience; really, a lot of visual storytelling is about manipulating our natural impulse to create stories and patterns out of visual data
“I often hear good things about your contributions to high society.” Kinda charmed by how vaguely “high society” is defined in this show, like everyone is attending a regency era court
“She is slightly odd, but the way she played harp was truly beautiful.” The principal subtly implies that our eccentricities can be forgiven in pursuit of true greatness
“More than anything, she was committed to serving her family.” And yet, that final restriction looms overhead. We’re definitely reaching the point where Lilisa’s mother and stepfather need to become more active characters, if only to explore ways Lilisa could navigate this obligation without losing herself
Leaving their meeting, Yayoi and Lilisa are framed against massive school windows; the bars still exist, but this wide-open composition and the size of the windows implies more space to move than before
Lilisa learns a harsh but entirely true lesson, as Yayoi reveals that her “secret advantage” in securing Noble Maiden was donating half the funds for the new campus. The class mobility Lilisa covets is a lie told to pacify the proletariat; they might let you dress up and accompany them, but this is all ultimately a vehicle for wealth to reify itself. There is no “high society” beyond the expression of capital in a social context; all of this pageantry is a meaningless veneer over an engine of suffering, the very engine rock is intended to identify and attack
“That’s cheating!” No, it’s the way the world actually works. “Hard work can carry you to the upper class” is the fundamental lie on which the modern world turns
“My parents said the harp wasn’t necessary, so I quit playing it.” And the stinger is even more disheartening – even though this woman seems to embody the synthesis and self-assurance Lilisa craves, she too is a prisoner, one so accustomed to her cage that she doesn’t even think twice about abandoning the thing that brings her joy
“After all, you’re just playing the guitar for fun, right?” Yayoi accepts her “passion” specifically because she sees it as a trivial, temporary pursuit
“All of that is nothing more than a way to display ladylike etiquette and flourish in high society.” The mastery of an instrument is a trifle, simply a way to burnish a lady’s appearances at social gatherings
“There isn’t a single lady who plays electric guitar.” The clouds move in as she speaks, offering ominous punctuation to her words
“Have your ‘fun’ in moderation, okay?” The woman she thought might be her guide to aligning her identities has proven the opposite – there is in truth no way to fully commit to both fields
Thus Lilisa pours her rage into her guitar, demonstrating both the depth of her anger and the necessity of the guitar itself as a vehicle for her feelings. This isn’t a lark, this isn’t something she does for “fun,” this is the truest expression of her selfhood. In the wake of Yayoi’s appearance, this defiant cry of pure individualism feels all the more righteous; high society would have her completely disappear as an individual, but she refuses to submit
“Rock n’ Roll might not solve your problems, or even let you run away from your problems. But it does let you dance all over them.” Let that raised middle finger be enough
Our stinger introduces another chance to perform, and a nefarious-looking boy group!
And Done
Whew, that was a much-needed episode! After deviating from the show’s core contrast of high-class propriety and rock rebellion for the entire band-forming arc, I was beyond relieved to see this episode returning to that theme with a vengeance. Just as the first few episodes explicitly linked rock music with socially conscious rebellion, so did this episode illustrate the stultifying horror of rock’s nemesis. Lilisa believed that diligence and hard work would earn her the Noble Maiden title, but that’s simply not how these things work; total denial of self is expected of all noble ladies, while the specific title is simply a measure of relative wealth within that sphere. The true “success story” of this academy believes in and possesses nothing; she is a pure vehicle of her family’s ambition, seeing any expressions of selfhood that fall outside that purview as frivolous distractions. And even with her pod-person personality, it was not her own efforts that secured her the title, but the wealth of her family. With her flattering misconceptions regarding the upper crust shattered, I’m looking forward to seeing Lilisa reassess her priorities, and chart a path that values both her family and her own soul.
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