【專訪】紙鳶 Seizer《缺頁的名冊》：寫下時間的痕跡
2024 年成團的紙鳶 Seizer，由主唱兼主要詞曲創作者仁杰、吉他手兼製作人海豹、吉他手兼和聲崇祐、貝斯手亨利與鼓手秉宸組成。成團後接連推出首張專輯《人性本賤》與第二張專輯《缺頁的名冊》，在兩張作品之間持續探索人性、關係與生活的不同面向。
從首張作品對人性慾望的直面，到新作對失去、遺忘與日常的凝視，紙鳶持續透過音樂記錄生活中的觀察與感受。《缺頁的名冊》像一本尚未完整的名冊，每一首歌都是其中留下的一頁；而在不同的閱讀與聆聽順序裡，同樣的作品也可能產生不同的觀看方式。
這次專訪，我們聊了《缺頁的名冊》的創作起點、〈平凡的一天〉如何成為專輯概念逐漸成形的契機，以及曲風與金屬聲音的探索。也談到團員之間的創作磨合、與不同音樂人的合作，以及走上海外舞台後，對自身音樂有了哪些新的體會。
從歌曲的誕生到樂團一路走來的變化，邀請你一起翻開紙鳶的《缺頁的名冊》，看看他們如何在一頁頁音樂之間，留下屬於這個階段的痕跡。
紙鳶 Seizer
第二張專輯《缺頁的名冊 Unwritten Lines》
數位發行｜2026.09.09
實體發行｜2026.10.09
《缺頁的名冊》發片專場
2026.10.25 SUB Live
18:30 入場｜19:30 開演
Q1：紙鳶在 2024 年成團後，接連推出兩張專輯。首張《人性本賤》以直率的聲音直面人性的慾望，而第二張《缺頁的名冊》則將目光轉向失去、遺忘與遺憾。你們的創作靈感通常來自哪些地方？日常生活中的經歷與觀察，又是如何轉化成歌曲的？
仁杰：我覺得創作靈感其實不一定來自什麼特別的事情，反而是生活裡那些我們習以為常、甚至不太會特別在意的東西。
像《人性本賤》比較直接地去面對人性裡的慾望、嫉妒，還有一些我們不太願意承認的陰暗面；到了《缺頁的名冊》，我開始更在意人與人之間的關係、失去，以及那些最後沒有被好好記住的事情。
對我來說，寫歌不只是把自己的情緒抒發出來，我更喜歡去思考，一個情緒或一個現象背後，究竟是什麼原因讓它發生。比如說，為什麼人總是急著判斷別人？為什麼我們明明討厭某些行為，最後卻可能不知不覺成為自己討厭的那種人？
我通常會先從這些問題出發，再慢慢把觀察轉化成歌詞。但我也不會刻意要求每首歌都要有多完整的概念，有時候只是當下的一個感受，寫著寫著，過了一段時間再回頭看，才發現它跟其他作品之間原來有某種關聯。
其實《缺頁的名冊》就是這樣。很多歌曲一開始並沒有刻意圍繞同一個主題去創作，但完成之後才發現，它們都在不同的角度談論著失去、遺忘，以及人在沒有答案的情況下，還是得繼續生活這件事。
所以我覺得，創作對我而言比較像是一種持續觀察和理解世界的過程，就是因為有些事情我一直想不明白，才想試著透過作品把它們記錄下來。至於聽眾最後怎麼理解這些歌曲，我覺得那是他們自己的課題。我不一定需要替每個問題提供解答，至少我希望這些作品能讓一些平常不太會被注意到的事情，有機會被重新看見。
Q2：〈平凡的一天〉的完成，成為《缺頁的名冊》整體概念逐漸成形的起點。當一首原本獨立的作品開始延伸成整張專輯時，你們如何決定其他歌曲要如何與它產生關聯？有沒有哪首歌原本並不在這個概念之中，後來卻意外成為不可或缺的一部分？
仁杰：其實對我來說，〈平凡的一天〉比較像是讓我重新理解這張專輯的起點，不是一開始就拿來當作整張專輯的核心去規劃。
這張專輯裡的很多歌曲，都是在不同的時間、不同的狀態下完成的。我沒有刻意要求每首歌都必須扣合某個主題，因為我不太希望創作變成先有一個答案，再去找適合的素材填進去。對我來說那樣反而容易失去作品原本最真實的樣子。
但當歌曲越來越多，開始把它們放在一起聽的時候，我才發現雖然每首歌談論的事情不太一樣，底層好像都有一些相似的東西。可能是對人性的懷疑、對關係的理解，也可能是那些我們以為已經過去了，卻還是會在某個時刻重新想起來的事情。
〈平凡的一天〉對我來說很特別，是因為它讓我開始思考，當我們看見別人的失去、遺憾，甚至是一些很沉重的事情時，生活卻還是會繼續。昨天發生的事，可能今天就成了日常；曾經對一個人很重要的事情，也可能隨著時間過去，慢慢從其他人的記憶裡消失。
這其實也是《缺頁的名冊》後來逐漸形成的方向。我們開始去記錄那些看起來不重要、沒有被好好對待，甚至最後可能被遺忘的事情。
如果要說哪一首歌是後來才發現不可或缺的，我反而覺得很難單獨挑出一首。因為這張專輯對我而言有趣的地方，就是它們並不是為了彼此而存在，卻在完成之後產生了某種連結。
我覺得創作有時候就是這樣，你當下不一定知道自己為什麼要寫這些東西，但過了一段時間回頭看，才發現原來自己一直在反覆思考相似的問題。這次只是剛好透過一張專輯，讓那些原本分散的想法有機會被放在一起。
Q3：在《缺頁的名冊》中，每首歌都記錄著不同的情緒與故事。有沒有哪首歌的歌詞特別讓你們喜歡，或是其中某個段落讓你們產生很深的共鳴？隨著時間過去，你們對這些歌詞的理解有沒有產生新的變化？
仁杰：如果是我自己的話，我會選〈平凡的一天〉
這首歌對我來說有一個很特別的地方，就是它其實記錄了我在成為獨立音樂人之後，對生活和創作的一些轉變。
以前可能會覺得，只要能夠發片、能夠站上更大的舞台，就是一件很值得期待的事情。但真的走到這個階段之後，才發現很多曾經很渴望的事情，在實現的過程中，也會慢慢變成生活的一部分。不是它們不再重要了，而是人好像真的很容易習慣自己曾經夢寐以求的東西。
所以這首歌對我來說，不只是記錄平凡的生活，而是去思考，我們究竟要怎麼看待那些已經發生、卻不再讓自己感到特別的事情。
至於歌詞的理解有沒有隨著時間改變，我覺得一定有。創作者在寫歌的當下，可能只是想表達某個情緒，但幾年之後再唱起來，你會發現自己已經走過一些當時還不理解的事情。歌詞沒有改變，可是唱歌的人變了。
我現在反而不太會急著替一首歌下定論。因為有些事情在寫下來的時候，我自己也未必真的想明白了。可能只是先把當下的感受留下來，等到某一天再回頭聽，才發現那幾句話原來還有其他意思。
我覺得這也是創作很有趣的地方。作品完成的那一刻，不代表它的意義就固定了。它會跟著創作者的經歷改變，也會因為聽眾各自的人生，產生原本沒有預期到的解讀。
某種程度上，我們寫下歌詞的時候是在記錄自己，但時間過去之後，那些文字也可能反過來讓我們重新認識自己。
Q4：紙鳶的音樂融合 Emo Rock、Grunge、Britpop 等元素，而新專輯中的〈Taste me Alive〉也進一步嘗試金屬語彙。對你們而言，這次在聲音上的探索是源於歌曲本身的需求，還是樂團希望主動突破既有風格？在嘗試新方向時，如何拿捏實驗性與紙鳶原有的音樂特色？
紙鳶：我覺得兩者都有，但對我來說，歌曲本身的需求還是比較重要。
因為我一直認為，曲風應該是拿來服務作品的，而不是反過來讓作品去配合某一種曲風。如果今天一首歌需要更強烈的侵略性，我們就去找適合它的聲音；如果它需要比較內斂、比較有空間的編曲，也不應該因為紙鳶過去的音樂比較衝，就硬是把它做得很滿。
像〈Taste me Alive〉這首歌，金屬的語彙對它來說就是一個適合的選擇。它需要的不是單純把音樂做得更重，透過聲音的重量、節奏和編曲的張力，去放大歌曲本身想傳達的東西。
至於怎麼拿捏實驗性與紙鳶原有的特色，我覺得關鍵在於我們怎麼定義自己的核心辨識度。對我來說，紙鳶不只是 Emo Rock、Grunge 或 Britpop 等曲風的組合，我們習慣用什麼角度看待這個世界，以及怎麼把那些不容易被說清楚的情緒與矛盾，轉化成有力量的作品。
從《人性本賤》對人性慾望的直面，到《缺頁的名冊》對失去、遺忘與日常的凝視，我們始終不太滿足於只描述一種情緒，我們會繼續追問它從何而來，以及自己在其中扮演了什麼角色。我認為這是紙鳶很重要的辨識度，也是我們希望透過歌詞與音樂共同呈現的東西。
所以我不會認為嘗試金屬就代表偏離了紙鳶原本的風格。比起守住某一種固定的精神，我更在意音樂是否真的承接了歌曲想說的事情，作品本身是否足夠誠實，也兼具內容與音樂性。
我希望紙鳶不會被某一種曲風限制住。聲音可以改變，創作方向也可以持續拓展，但我們看待人性、關係與世界的方式，以及把這些觀察轉化成作品的企圖心是始終不變的。
Q5：這張專輯邀請旅人、羊米人與知更參與合作。你們是如何決定哪些歌曲適合邀請其他音樂人加入？在與不同創作者交流、共同完成作品的過程中，有沒有出現原先未曾預期的音樂火花？
紙鳶：我覺得我們在決定合作人選的時候，還是會先回到歌曲本身去思考。不是每首歌都適合加入其他人的聲音，有些作品需要維持比較完整、單一的敘事，但有些歌如果能有不同的聲音或觀點進來，反而會讓作品產生原本沒有的層次。
像這次與旅人至凱、羊米人和知更的合作，我覺得三首歌的需求其實不太一樣。
〈Taste me Alive〉本身的音樂方向比較強烈，也有金屬的元素，所以旅人至凱的加入，讓這首歌有機會在原本的聲音基礎上，發展出更有張力的表現方式。
〈六月的雨縫〉則是另一種狀態。這首歌比較著重情緒的流動，以及人與人之間那些難以言說的感受。羊米人的加入，讓歌曲多了一種不同的情緒層次，也讓原本的敘事有了不一樣的呼吸感。
至於〈平凡的一天〉，知更的參與對我來說很有意義，因為這首歌承載了我對生活、時間，以及成為獨立音樂人之後一些心境變化的感受。我希望這首歌呈現的感覺試一種經歷過一些事情之後，重新看待日常的心情。知更的加入，讓這份情緒有了另一種詮釋，也讓歌曲最後呈現的樣子，不再只是我一個人的視角。
我覺得合作很有趣的地方，就是每個創作者都有自己的習慣和理解方式。同樣一段音樂、同樣一個情緒，不同的人可能會用完全不同的方式去詮釋。有時候你原本覺得自己已經很清楚這首歌要往哪裡走，但當另一個人加入之後，他的聲音或表達方式會讓你發現，原來這首歌還有其他可能性。
所以對我來說，合作不只是交換技術或聲音，也是讓自己的想法接受不同的詮釋。我們不一定要把每個細節都控制在原本的想像裡，只要最後這些不同的特質都能回到歌曲本身，成為作品的一部分，我覺得就是很珍貴的經驗。
Q6：紙鳶的創作主要由仁杰與崇祐發起，海豹擔綱製作，並與秉宸、亨利共同完成編曲。當一首歌從最初的詞曲雛形發展成完整作品時，團員通常如何交換想法、磨合不同的音樂觀點？有沒有哪首新歌特別能代表你們彼此激盪、共同塑造音樂的過程？
紙鳶：因為這張專輯做到後面，我們其實對於自己想像的紙鳶是什麼樣子都稍微不一樣，也更容易有衝突。像〈矯〉一開始叫〈我厭惡的流行歌曲〉，其實那個名字就是詞曲作者仁杰當時最滿意的想法，因為和第一張專輯的〈你聽過的流行歌曲〉是跨專輯的呼應。可是後來大家討論之後也慢慢說服仁杰，有時候把概念講得太滿，反而會讓作品少掉一些想像的空間，所以最後才改成〈矯〉。
仁杰：我覺得這也是我自己這兩年比較大的改變。以前可能會覺得「這就是我寫的，我為什麼要改？」但後來開始知道，妥協不一定等於放棄自己的東西，有時候是在找一個大家都能認同、但作品本身又沒有被犧牲掉的位置。
至於崇祐唱〈你在的地方〉，因為那首歌的氣質跟我們平常給人的印象差很多，而且我希望讓崇祐唱的原因是歌裡的角色想和〈查無此人〉呼應，讓崇祐比較溫柔細膩的聲線去對話是我想像的歌曲樣貌，對聽感來說也是一種新的嘗試。
Q7：紙鳶的作品經常觸及現實生活中的矛盾與個體處境。當你們想把某個社會現象或觀察寫進歌曲時，如何在具體事件與個人情緒之間找到平衡？你們會希望歌曲清楚傳達自己的立場，還是更傾向留下空間，讓聽眾形成自己的理解？
仁杰：我覺得這兩件事情其實很難完全分開，因為我們對一個社會現象產生情緒，本身就代表我們已經有了某種立場。但對我來說，比起急著告訴別人我是對的、誰是錯的，我更在意的是這個現象為什麼會發生？以及我們是不是也在不知不覺中成為其中的一部分？
像紙鳶有些作品，表面上是在談論社會現象，但我真正想追問的，往往不只是某個人的行為，而是讓這些行為得以發生的環境，以及我們習以為常的價值觀。因為很多事情並不是把一個人定義成好人或壞人，就真的能夠得到解答。
所以在創作的時候，我會希望具體的事件或觀察能夠成為入口，但不一定要把所有答案都寫出來。有時候太急著解釋，反而會讓作品失去原本可以延伸的空間。我更希望透過歌詞、意象和情緒，讓聽眾自己走進那個問題。
但留下空間，不代表我不願意表達立場。我還是希望作品有它明確的觀點，只是我不認為創作者有必要替聽眾完成所有思考。對我來說，一首歌可以很有立場，同時也容許別人從不同的生命經驗出發，得到不一樣的理解。
而且我覺得，當我們在批判某些現象的時候，也應該保留反過來檢視自己的可能。因為人很容易在看見別人的問題時，認為自己一定站在比較正確的位置，但實際上，我們也可能在某些情境下做出自己曾經批判過的事情。
所以我寫歌的時候，不太希望自己只是站在旁邊評論世界。有時候我也想把自己放進去，去思考自己是不是同樣受到那些價值觀影響，甚至是不是也曾經成為自己不認同的那種人。
至於聽眾最後會怎麼理解，我願意把那個空間留給他們。畢竟我能負責的是我為什麼寫這首歌，但我沒辦法替每個聽見它的人，決定這首歌應該代表什麼。
Q8：今年紙鳶受邀出席國際前往泰國 Monster Music Festival 演出，開始與台灣以外的樂迷交流。這次經驗是否改變你們對自身音樂的理解？你們最希望透過現場演出傳達什麼？
紙鳶：海外音樂節讓我們看見自己做得好的地方，也讓我們知道還缺什麼。像是現場的規模、舞台的製作、國際溝通，甚至是我們跟其他國家音樂人的交流方式，這些都是以前在台灣比較不容易意識到的事情。但我不會因此覺得我們一定要離開台灣，才有辦法證明自己。
反而是我更希望紙鳶可以把台灣這塊土地上累積出來的東西做好，然後有機會再帶出去。
因為我現在比較相信，真正有價值的海外交流，不是「去過哪裡」而已，你去了之後有沒有把一些新的東西帶回來，讓自己的作品跟現場變得更特別更完整。
所以如果未來還有機會去更多地方演出，我們當然會很期待，但我們比較希望有一天可以很理所當然地在台灣做好自己的音樂，也很理所當然地把它帶到世界其他地方。
這樣對我們來說才比較像是紙鳶真正開始飛向國際。
Q9：《缺頁的名冊》試著記錄那些可能被時間帶走的人事物，但生活仍然會不斷產生新的故事。完成這張專輯後，你們對創作、樂團以及自己有沒有產生新的理解？如果未來的紙鳶能回頭翻閱今天留下的這些音樂，你們希望那時候的自己，會從中看見什麼？
紙鳶：我們總是很習慣用結果去衡量一件事情的價值，包含創作也是。我們會在意作品有沒有被看見、被理解，甚至有沒有得到足夠的回應。但如果一件事情的價值，必須等到有人認可之後才能成立，而那些沒有被看見的東西，是不是就真的不重要了？
這也是《缺頁的名冊》對我來說很重要的地方。它讓我重新去思考，創作是不是除了表達自己，也能替一些可能被忽略的事情留下紀錄。即使它們沒有改變什麼，也不代表它們不值得被寫下來。
至於樂團，我覺得我們也還在學習怎麼一起走下去。每個人都會改變，對音樂的想法、對生活的期待，甚至對樂團的想像，都可能跟剛成立的時候不一樣。我不覺得一個樂團必須永遠維持最初的樣子，但我希望我們在改變的過程中，還是能夠知道自己為什麼開始做這些事情，以及為什麼到現在還願意繼續做下去。
仁杰：如果未來的紙鳶有一天回頭聽這張專輯，我希望我們看見的，不只是當時做出了什麼樣的作品是那個階段的我們，曾經很認真地思考一些事情，也很誠實地留下了自己的困惑。
我不一定希望未來的自己會認同現在寫下的每一句話。因為如果幾年過去了，我們對世界的理解還跟現在一模一樣，那或許也代表我們沒有真正經歷什麼改變。但至少我希望未來的我們不會因為害怕犯錯、害怕被誤解，或是太在意別人怎麼看待自己的作品，而慢慢失去提問的能力。
對我來說，創作最珍貴的地方是讓我們有機會回頭看見，自己曾經怎麼理解這個世界，又是如何一步一步走到今天。
Q10：最後想請各位團員各自推薦近期喜歡，或對自己有特殊意義的歌曲，並分享喜歡這首歌的原因。無論是旋律、歌詞、編曲，或是歌曲帶給自己的感受，都歡迎和大家分享。
仁杰：〈平凡的一天〉
我覺得人很容易把注意力放在還沒得到的東西上，總覺得等到下一個目標實現，生活才會真正開始。但人生好像不是這樣運作的，很多事情發生了就是發生了，時間也不會因為我們還沒準備好，就停下來等我們。如果要說這首歌帶給我什麼，我想是讓我開始學著接受，有些日子不需要特別有意義，也不一定要留下什麼成果。只是當下的我們，往往很難意識到自己正身處其中。或許很多年以後，當我們回頭想起現在，真正記得的未必是那些費盡力氣想完成的事情，而是某個再普通不過的下午、一次沒有特別理由的相聚，或是一段當時以為還會持續很久的日常，只是那個時候我們可能已經沒有辦法再回到那一天了。
所以我希望〈平凡的一天〉能留下的，不是要大家把每一天都過得多有意義，是想提醒大家當某一天終究成為過去，我們至少還能記得自己曾經好好地生活在那個時刻。
崇祐：〈星雲飄蕩〉
我們時常在生活中經歷很多不舒服的事情，可能是工作很累，可能是跟人吵架，可能是失戀，也可能只是今天真的過得很糟糕，這些情緒常常讓我們忘記身邊還有很多愛著我們的人，就像都市夜晚的天空，晚上抬頭看的時候，可能根本看不到幾顆星星，因為有太多燈光、太多東西把它們蓋住了，但是他們其實一直都在，我覺得身邊那些愛我們的人也是一樣，這首歌提醒我們其實一直都被愛著，就算現在看不到，也不代表它不存在。
秉宸：田馥甄〈大船〉
這首歌給我的感覺，就像是溫柔地看著一個人經歷風浪，然後慢慢歸航。
我們在生活裡常常像是一艘獨自航行在大海上的船，總是得獨自面對未知的風浪、突如其來的雨，甚至是漫無邊際的孤獨。很多時候我們被催促著要往前開、要勇敢、要堅強，但卻很少有人問我們「累不累？要不要停下來靠岸？」。
〈大船〉這首歌的旋律和歌詞有一種神奇的力量，它不會強迫你要立刻好起來，而是像一個寬廣的港灣，告訴你：「辛苦了，你已經做得很好，現在可以好好休息了。」它讓我覺得，無論我們在外面受了多少傷、經歷了多少迷惘，內心深處永遠會有一個安全的地方等待我們回航。希望這首歌也能給正在經歷風浪的人一種安心感——知道自己被溫柔地包容著，然後在休息夠了之後，又有勇氣重新出發。
海豹：Loathe 〈Fangs〉
Loathe 的音樂有一點很特別，就是他們在很重、很炸的音牆裡面，會塞進非常夢幻的旋律。聽〈Fangs〉的感覺就像站在風暴中心，外面雖然狂風暴雨，但當你被這種極度破壞力的聲音徹底包圍時，心裡反而會覺得超級平靜。
我們平常都得逼自己當個情緒穩定的人，隱藏自己的「獠牙」。這首歌像是一個情緒出口，發洩完之後再重新找回面對明天的力氣。
亨利：上山《如夢石》
這首歌在編曲上從平靜到兇狠，對於我來說很像在為一件事情吶喊的感覺，對於最近的我來說這首歌蠻符合我的心境的。
Formed in 2024, Taiwanese band Seizer comprises vocalist and principal songwriter Jay, guitarist and producer Seal, guitarist and backing vocalist Kay, bassist Henry, and drummer Daniel. Following their debut album Human Nature Is Cheap, the band returned with their second album, Unwritten Lines, continuing to explore different facets of human nature, relationships, and everyday life.
From the direct confrontation with human desire on their debut to the new album’s reflections on loss, forgetting, and the everyday, Seizer continues to turn their observations and experiences into music.
In this interview, we talk about the origins of Unwritten Lines, how “Carpe diem” became a turning point in shaping the album’s concept, and the band’s exploration of new sounds, including metal influences. We also discuss their creative process, collaborations with other musicians, and what performing overseas has taught them about their own music.
From the making of individual songs to the band’s evolution over the past two years, we take a closer look at Unwritten Lines and how Seizer uses music to document the lives and thoughts of the people they are today.
Seizer
Second Album: Unwritten Lines
Digital Release: 9 September 2026
Physical Release: 9 October 2026
Q1: Since forming in 2024, Seizer have released two albums. The debut, 人性本賤, confronts human desire head-on, while their second album, 缺頁的名冊 (Unwritten Lines), turns its attention to loss, forgetting and regret. Where do you usually find inspiration for your music? How do experiences and observations from everyday life find their way into your songs?
Jay: I don't think inspiration necessarily comes from anything particularly extraordinary. More often, it comes from things in everyday life that we've grown accustomed to, or barely pay attention to at all.
人性本賤 deals more directly with desire, jealousy and the darker sides of human nature that we aren't always willing to acknowledge. With Unwritten Lines, I've become more interested in relationships, loss, and the things that ultimately aren't remembered as well as they should be.
For me, songwriting isn't simply a way to release my emotions. I'm more interested in thinking about what lies behind a particular feeling or phenomenon, and what causes it to happen. Why are people always so quick to judge others? Why is it that we sometimes end up becoming the very kind of person we dislike, without even realising it?
I usually start with questions like these, then gradually turn my observations into lyrics. But I don't insist that every song needs to have a fully developed concept. Sometimes it begins with nothing more than a feeling in the moment. I might return to it much later and realise that it has a connection with other songs after all.
That's essentially how Unwritten Lines came together. Many of the songs weren't deliberately written around a shared theme, but once they were finished, I realised they were approaching loss, forgetting, and the fact that life has to go on even when we don't have all the answers, each from a different angle.
So, for me, creating music is an ongoing process of observing and trying to understand the world. There are things I still can't quite make sense of, and that's precisely why I want to record them through my work. How listeners ultimately interpret these songs is up to them. I don't necessarily need to provide an answer to every question. At the very least, I hope the music can bring things that usually go unnoticed back into view.
Q2: The completion of “Carpe diem” became a starting point for the overall concept of Unwritten Lines to take shape. When a song that originally stood on its own begins to inform an entire album, how do you decide how the other tracks should relate to it? Was there a song that initially seemed unrelated to the concept but later became an indispensable part of the album?
Jay: For me, “Carpe diem” was more of a starting point that helped me understand the album differently. It wasn't a song I'd originally planned as the central idea around which the whole record would be built.
Many of the songs on the album were written at different times and in different states of mind. I didn't deliberately insist that every track had to fit a particular theme, because I don't want the creative process to become a matter of deciding on an answer first and then finding material to fill it in. I think that can make a song lose something of its original honesty.
But as more songs accumulated and I began listening to them together, I noticed that although they dealt with different subjects, there seemed to be certain things running beneath the surface. They might be doubts about human nature, reflections on relationships, or things we thought we'd moved on from but that return to our minds at unexpected moments.
“Carpe diem” is particularly important to me because it made me think about how life continues even when we're confronted with someone else's loss, regrets, or even deeply painful experiences. What happened yesterday can become part of everyday life by today. Something that once meant a great deal to one person can gradually disappear from everyone else's memory as time passes.
That gradually became the direction of Unwritten Lines: documenting things that seem insignificant, that haven't been properly acknowledged, or that might eventually be forgotten altogether.
If I had to name a song that later proved indispensable, I would actually find it difficult to single one out. What interests me about this album is that the songs weren't created for one another, yet they developed a connection once they were finished.
I think that's sometimes how creating music works. You don't necessarily know why you're writing certain things at the time. Only when you look back later do you realise you've been returning to similar questions all along. With this album, those thoughts that were originally scattered simply found a place together.
Q3: Every song on Unwritten Lines captures a different emotion or story. Is there a particular lyric or passage that you especially love or feel deeply connected to? Have your interpretations of these lyrics changed over time?
Jay: If I had to choose one, I'd go with “Carpe diem”.
What's special about this song is that it captures some of the ways my outlook on life and music changed after I became an independent musician.
In the past, I might have thought that releasing an album or playing on a bigger stage was something to look forward to above all else. But once you actually reach that stage, you realise that many things you've long dreamed of can gradually become part of everyday life as you work towards them. It's not that they stop mattering. We're just very good at getting used to the things we once desperately wanted.
So, for me, this song isn't simply about documenting ordinary life. It's about asking how we should look at things that have already happened but no longer feel special to us.
As for whether the meaning of the lyrics changes over time, I think it inevitably does. When a songwriter writes something, they might simply be trying to express a particular emotion. But when you sing those words again a few years later, you may realise you've lived through experiences you couldn't understand at the time. The lyrics haven't changed, but the person singing them has.
These days, I'm less inclined to rush to a definitive interpretation of a song. When I write something, I may not fully understand it myself. Sometimes I simply preserve what I'm feeling in that moment. Then, one day, I return to it and discover that those same lines carry other meanings.
That's one of the most interesting things about making music. A song's meaning isn't fixed the moment it's finished. It changes alongside the songwriter's experiences, and listeners bring their own lives to it, finding interpretations we never anticipated.
In a way, writing lyrics allows us to document who we are. But as time passes, those same words can also help us understand ourselves all over again.
Q4: Seizer's music draws on elements of emo rock, grunge and Britpop, while “Taste me Alive” on the new album takes things further by incorporating metal influences. Does this sonic exploration arise from the needs of individual songs, or from a conscious desire to push beyond the band's established sound? When exploring new directions, how do you balance experimentation with the musical identity that defines Seizer?
Seizer: I think it's a bit of both, but the needs of the song itself are more important to me.
I've always felt that genre should serve the music, rather than forcing a song to conform to a particular genre. If a song needs a stronger sense of aggression, we'll look for sounds that suit it. If it calls for a more restrained arrangement with greater space, we shouldn't force it to sound dense and intense just because Seizer's previous music has tended to be more explosive.
With “Taste me Alive”, metal felt like an appropriate choice. The point wasn't simply to make the music heavier. It was to use the weight of the sound, the rhythm and the tension in the arrangement to amplify what the song was trying to express.
As for balancing experimentation with our existing identity, I think the key lies in how we define what makes us recognisable. To me, Seizer isn't simply a combination of emo rock, grunge and Britpop. It's also about the perspective through which we look at the world, and how we turn emotions and contradictions that are difficult to articulate into something powerful.
From confronting human desire on 人性本賤 to reflecting on loss, forgetting and everyday life on Unwritten Lines, we've never been entirely satisfied with simply describing an emotion. We want to keep asking where it comes from and what role we ourselves play in it. I think that's an important part of Seizer's identity, and something we want to express through both our lyrics and our music.
So I don't see experimenting with metal as a departure from Seizer's original sound. Rather than holding on to a fixed musical identity, I'm more concerned with whether the music genuinely serves what a song wants to say, and whether the work is honest while remaining musically compelling.
I hope Seizer won't be confined to any single genre. Our sound can change and our creative direction can continue to expand, but the way we look at human nature, relationships and the world, and our determination to turn those observations into music will remain.
Q5: The album features collaborations with Traveller’s KAI, YUMMY MAN and John Stoniae. How do you decide which songs would benefit from bringing in other musicians? Did any unexpected musical sparks emerge from exchanging ideas and creating music together?
Seizer: When deciding whom to collaborate with, I think we always come back to the song itself. Not every track needs another voice. Some songs benefit from maintaining a more unified narrative, while others can gain new layers when different voices or perspectives enter the picture.
The three collaborations with Traveller’s KAI, YUMMY MAN and John Stoniae each served a different purpose.
“Taste me Alive” has a more forceful musical direction and incorporates metal elements. KAI's contribution gave us the opportunity to develop a more dynamic and powerful expression within the song's existing sonic framework.
“Until the rain” is in a different place emotionally. It focuses more on the movement of emotion and the feelings between people that are difficult to put into words. YUMMY MAN brought another emotional layer to the track, giving its narrative a different sense of breathing room.
Stoniae’s contribution to “Carpe diem” was particularly meaningful to me. The song carries my reflections on life and time, as well as the changes in my outlook since becoming an independent musician. I wanted it to convey the feeling of looking at everyday life differently after having lived through certain experiences. Stoniae's involvement brought another interpretation to that feeling, so the finished song was no longer simply a reflection of my own perspective.
What makes collaboration interesting is that every creator has their own habits and way of understanding things. Faced with the same piece of music or the same emotion, different people may express it in completely different ways. Sometimes you think you already know exactly where a song should go, but once someone else joins in, their voice or approach reveals possibilities you hadn't considered.
For me, collaboration isn't just about exchanging techniques or sounds. It's also about allowing my own ideas to be interpreted differently. We don't necessarily have to control every detail according to our original vision. As long as those different qualities ultimately serve the song and become part of the work, I think it's a valuable experience.
Q6: Seizer's songs are primarily initiated by Jay and Kay, with Seal overseeing production and Daniel and Henry contributing to the arrangements. As a song develops from an initial lyrical and melodic idea into a finished piece, how do you exchange ideas and work through different musical perspectives? Is there a track on the new album that particularly reflects the process of shaping music together?
Seizer: Towards the end of making this album, we realised that each of us had a slightly different idea of what Seizer should sound like, which naturally led to more disagreements.
Take “矯” (Maverick), for example. It was originally titled “我厭惡的流行歌曲” (The Pop Song I Hate). That was the title Jay, who wrote the song, was most satisfied with at the time, because it echoed “你聽過的流行歌曲” (The Pop Song You've Heard) from our debut album. The two songs were intended to reference each other across albums.
But after discussing it as a band, we gradually persuaded Jay that spelling out a concept too explicitly can sometimes leave a work with less room for imagination. That's why we eventually changed the title to “矯”.
Jay: I think that's one of the biggest changes in me over the past two years. I used to think, “I wrote this, so why should I change it?” But I've gradually come to understand that compromise doesn't necessarily mean giving up your own ideas. Sometimes it's about finding a position that everyone can agree on without sacrificing the work itself.
As for having Kay sing “你在的地方” (Where You Are), the song has a very different character from what people might usually associate with us. I wanted Chongyou to sing it because the character in the song was intended to echo the one in “查無此人” (Absence). I imagined Kay's gentler, more delicate voice entering into that dialogue. It also offered us a new direction in terms of how the song could sound.
Q7: Seizer's music often explores contradictions in the real world and the circumstances individuals find themselves in. When you want to incorporate a social issue or observation into a song, how do you balance the specific event with your own emotions? Do you want the song to communicate a clear position, or would you rather leave room for listeners to form their own interpretations?
Jay: I think it's difficult to separate those two things completely, because the very fact that we have an emotional response to a social phenomenon means we already have a certain position on it. But rather than rushing to tell people that I'm right and someone else is wrong, I'm more interested in asking why the phenomenon happens in the first place and whether we might unknowingly be part of it ourselves.
Some of Seizer's songs appear to address social issues on the surface, but what I really want to question often goes beyond an individual's behaviour. I'm interested in the environment that allows that behaviour to happen, as well as the values we've come to take for granted. Simply labelling someone as good or bad doesn't necessarily help us understand what's going on.
When writing, I want a specific event or observation to serve as an entry point, but I don't necessarily want to spell everything out. Sometimes, explaining too much too quickly takes away the room a work could otherwise leave for interpretation. I'd rather use lyrics, imagery and emotion to invite listeners into the question themselves.
That said, leaving room for interpretation doesn't mean I'm unwilling to express a position. I still want the work to have a clear point of view. I just don't think a songwriter needs to do all the thinking on behalf of the listener. A song can take a strong position while still allowing people, drawing on their own life experiences, to arrive at different understandings.
I also think that when we criticise certain phenomena, we should leave room to examine ourselves in return. It's easy to see a problem in someone else and assume we're standing on the right side. In reality, there may be circumstances in which we do the very things we've criticised.
That's why I don't want to write songs as though I'm simply standing at a distance and commenting on the world. Sometimes I want to place myself within the picture and ask whether I've been influenced by the same values, or whether I've ever become the kind of person I disagree with.
As for how listeners ultimately interpret the songs, I'm happy to leave that space to them. I can take responsibility for why I wrote a song, but I can't decide what it should mean to everyone who hears it.
Q8: This year, Seizer performed at Thailand's Monster Music Festival, connecting with audiences beyond Taiwan for the first time on this scale. Did the experience change how you understand your own music? What do you most hope to communicate through your live performances?
Seizer: Performing at an overseas festival showed us what we do well, but also what we're still missing. Things like the scale of the event, stage production, international communication and even how we interact with musicians from other countries. These are areas we didn't necessarily have as much opportunity to recognise while working in Taiwan.
But I don't think that means we have to leave Taiwan to prove ourselves.
If anything, I want Seizer to continue developing what we've built here in Taiwan, and then take it elsewhere when the opportunity comes.
I'm increasingly convinced that meaningful international exchange isn't simply about being able to say you've performed somewhere. It's about what you bring back from the experience, and whether it helps make your music and live performances more distinctive and complete.
Of course, we'd be excited to perform in more places in the future. But our hope is to reach a point where making our own music in Taiwan feels entirely natural, and taking that music to other parts of the world feels just as natural.
To us, that's when Seizer will truly have begun to take flight internationally.
Q9: Unwritten Lines attempts to document people and things that might otherwise be carried away by time, yet life continues to generate new stories. After completing the album, have your understanding of music, the band and yourselves changed? If a future version of Seizer could look back through the music you're making today, what would you hope to see?
Seizer: We're accustomed to measuring the value of something by its results, and that includes creative work. We care about whether our music is seen and understood, and even whether it receives enough of a response. But if something only becomes valuable once someone else recognises it, does that mean the things that go unnoticed are genuinely unimportant?
That's one of the things that makes Unwritten Lines important to me. It has led me to reconsider whether creating music can do more than express ourselves whether it can also preserve a record of things that might otherwise be overlooked. Even if those things don't change anything, that doesn't mean they aren't worth writing about.
As for the band, I think we're still learning how to keep moving forward together. Everyone changes. Our ideas about music, our expectations of life and even our understanding of what the band should be can all differ from when we first started. I don't think a band has to remain exactly as it was at the beginning. But as we change, I hope we can still remember why we started doing this in the first place, and why we're still willing to carry on.
Jay: If Seizer looks back on this album one day, I hope we'll see more than just the work we made. I hope we'll see who we were at that particular stage of our lives: people who took certain questions seriously and honestly left their uncertainties in the music.
I don't necessarily hope that my future self will agree with every line I've written today. If, several years from now, our understanding of the world is exactly the same as it is now, perhaps that would mean we haven't truly changed or experienced very much. But at the very least, I hope we won't gradually lose the ability to ask questions because we're afraid of making mistakes, being misunderstood, or caring too much about how others perceive our work.
For me, the most precious thing about creating music is that it gives us a chance to look back and see how we once understood the world and how we've gradually arrived at where we are today.
Q10: Finally, we'd like each member to recommend a song they have been enjoying recently, or one that holds a special meaning for them, and tell us why they chose it. Whether it's the melody, lyrics, arrangement or the feelings it evokes, we'd love to hear what makes the song meaningful to you.
Jay — “平凡的一天” (Carpe diem)
I think it's easy to focus on the things we haven't yet achieved, always assuming that life will truly begin once we reach the next goal. But I don't think life works that way. Things happen when they happen, and time won't stop to wait for us just because we're not ready.
If this song has taught me anything, it's to accept that some days don't need to be particularly meaningful, nor do they have to produce any tangible results. The difficulty is that, while we're living through them, we often don't realise that we're already in the middle of something worth remembering.
Perhaps many years from now, when we look back on the present, the things we'll remember most vividly won't necessarily be the goals we worked so hard to achieve. They might instead be an ordinary afternoon, an unplanned gathering, or a part of everyday life we once assumed would continue for a long time. By then, we may no longer be able to return to that day.
So I hope “平凡的一天” doesn't tell people that every day has to be made meaningful. Rather, I hope it reminds them that when a day eventually becomes part of the past, they can at least remember that they were once there, living through that moment.
Kay — “星雲飄蕩” (Cradled by the night)
We go through all kinds of difficult experiences in everyday life. Work might leave us exhausted, we might argue with someone, go through a breakup, or simply have a terrible day. Those feelings can make us forget that there are still people around us who love us.
It's a little like looking up at the night sky in a city. With all the lights and other distractions, you might barely see any stars. But they're still there.
I think the people who love us are much the same. This song reminds us that we're loved, even when we can't feel it. Just because we can't see it right now doesn't mean it isn't there.
Daniel: Hebe Tien — “大船” (Lost and Wandering)
This song feels to me like gently watching someone weather a storm before slowly making their way home.
In life, we often feel like ships sailing alone across a vast ocean, having to face unknown storms, sudden rain, and sometimes an overwhelming sense of loneliness. We are constantly urged to keep moving forward, to be brave, to stay strong, yet very few people stop to ask, “Are you tired? Do you want to stop and come ashore for a while?”
There is something almost magical about the melody and lyrics of “大船” It never forces you to feel better right away. Instead, it feels like a wide, welcoming harbour, telling you, “You’ve been through a lot. You’ve done enough. It’s okay to rest now.” It reminds me that no matter how many wounds we carry or how lost we may feel out there, there will always be a safe place deep within us waiting for us to return.
I hope this song can offer the same sense of reassurance to anyone going through a storm, the feeling of being gently held and accepted, knowing that once you have rested enough, you will find the courage to set sail again.
Seal: Loathe — “Fangs”
There’s something particularly fascinating about Loathe’s music. Within their incredibly heavy and explosive walls of sound, they weave in melodies that feel almost dreamlike. Listening to “Fangs” feels like standing at the centre of a storm. The world outside may be filled with wind and rain, but when you are completely surrounded by the sheer destructive force of the sound, you somehow end up feeling incredibly calm.
We are constantly expected to keep our emotions in check and to hide our own “fangs.” This song feels like an outlet for all of that emotion, a place to let it out, before finding the strength to face another day.
Henry: Shang Shan — “如夢石”
The arrangement of this song moves from calm and restrained to fierce and intense. To me, it feels like shouting out for something you deeply believe in. And lately, it has resonated quite strongly with where I am emotionally.
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從首張作品對人性慾望的直面，到新作對失去、遺忘與日常的凝視，紙鳶持續透過音樂記錄生活中的觀察與感受。《缺頁的名冊》像一本尚未完整的名冊，每一首歌都是其中留下的一頁；而在不同的閱讀與聆聽順序裡，同樣的作品也可能產生不同的觀看方式。
這次專訪，我們聊了《缺頁的名冊》的創作起點、〈平凡的一天〉如何成為專輯概念逐漸成形的契機，以及曲風與金屬聲音的探索。也談到團員之間的創作磨合、與不同音樂人的合作，以及走上海外舞台後，對自身音樂有了哪些新的體會。
從歌曲的誕生到樂團一路走來的變化，邀請你一起翻開紙鳶的《缺頁的名冊》，看看他們如何在一頁頁音樂之間，留下屬於這個階段的痕跡。
紙鳶 Seizer
第二張專輯《缺頁的名冊 Unwritten Lines》
數位發行｜2026.09.09
實體發行｜2026.10.09
《缺頁的名冊》發片專場
2026.10.25 SUB Live
18:30 入場｜19:30 開演
Q1：紙鳶在 2024 年成團後，接連推出兩張專輯。首張《人性本賤》以直率的聲音直面人性的慾望，而第二張《缺頁的名冊》則將目光轉向失去、遺忘與遺憾。你們的創作靈感通常來自哪些地方？日常生活中的經歷與觀察，又是如何轉化成歌曲的？
仁杰：我覺得創作靈感其實不一定來自什麼特別的事情，反而是生活裡那些我們習以為常、甚至不太會特別在意的東西。
像《人性本賤》比較直接地去面對人性裡的慾望、嫉妒，還有一些我們不太願意承認的陰暗面；到了《缺頁的名冊》，我開始更在意人與人之間的關係、失去，以及那些最後沒有被好好記住的事情。
對我來說，寫歌不只是把自己的情緒抒發出來，我更喜歡去思考，一個情緒或一個現象背後，究竟是什麼原因讓它發生。比如說，為什麼人總是急著判斷別人？為什麼我們明明討厭某些行為，最後卻可能不知不覺成為自己討厭的那種人？
我通常會先從這些問題出發，再慢慢把觀察轉化成歌詞。但我也不會刻意要求每首歌都要有多完整的概念，有時候只是當下的一個感受，寫著寫著，過了一段時間再回頭看，才發現它跟其他作品之間原來有某種關聯。
其實《缺頁的名冊》就是這樣。很多歌曲一開始並沒有刻意圍繞同一個主題去創作，但完成之後才發現，它們都在不同的角度談論著失去、遺忘，以及人在沒有答案的情況下，還是得繼續生活這件事。
所以我覺得，創作對我而言比較像是一種持續觀察和理解世界的過程，就是因為有些事情我一直想不明白，才想試著透過作品把它們記錄下來。至於聽眾最後怎麼理解這些歌曲，我覺得那是他們自己的課題。我不一定需要替每個問題提供解答，至少我希望這些作品能讓一些平常不太會被注意到的事情，有機會被重新看見。
Q2：〈平凡的一天〉的完成，成為《缺頁的名冊》整體概念逐漸成形的起點。當一首原本獨立的作品開始延伸成整張專輯時，你們如何決定其他歌曲要如何與它產生關聯？有沒有哪首歌原本並不在這個概念之中，後來卻意外成為不可或缺的一部分？
仁杰：其實對我來說，〈平凡的一天〉比較像是讓我重新理解這張專輯的起點，不是一開始就拿來當作整張專輯的核心去規劃。
這張專輯裡的很多歌曲，都是在不同的時間、不同的狀態下完成的。我沒有刻意要求每首歌都必須扣合某個主題，因為我不太希望創作變成先有一個答案，再去找適合的素材填進去。對我來說那樣反而容易失去作品原本最真實的樣子。
但當歌曲越來越多，開始把它們放在一起聽的時候，我才發現雖然每首歌談論的事情不太一樣，底層好像都有一些相似的東西。可能是對人性的懷疑、對關係的理解，也可能是那些我們以為已經過去了，卻還是會在某個時刻重新想起來的事情。
〈平凡的一天〉對我來說很特別，是因為它讓我開始思考，當我們看見別人的失去、遺憾，甚至是一些很沉重的事情時，生活卻還是會繼續。昨天發生的事，可能今天就成了日常；曾經對一個人很重要的事情，也可能隨著時間過去，慢慢從其他人的記憶裡消失。
這其實也是《缺頁的名冊》後來逐漸形成的方向。我們開始去記錄那些看起來不重要、沒有被好好對待，甚至最後可能被遺忘的事情。
如果要說哪一首歌是後來才發現不可或缺的，我反而覺得很難單獨挑出一首。因為這張專輯對我而言有趣的地方，就是它們並不是為了彼此而存在，卻在完成之後產生了某種連結。
我覺得創作有時候就是這樣，你當下不一定知道自己為什麼要寫這些東西，但過了一段時間回頭看，才發現原來自己一直在反覆思考相似的問題。這次只是剛好透過一張專輯，讓那些原本分散的想法有機會被放在一起。
Q3：在《缺頁的名冊》中，每首歌都記錄著不同的情緒與故事。有沒有哪首歌的歌詞特別讓你們喜歡，或是其中某個段落讓你們產生很深的共鳴？隨著時間過去，你們對這些歌詞的理解有沒有產生新的變化？
仁杰：如果是我自己的話，我會選〈平凡的一天〉
這首歌對我來說有一個很特別的地方，就是它其實記錄了我在成為獨立音樂人之後，對生活和創作的一些轉變。
以前可能會覺得，只要能夠發片、能夠站上更大的舞台，就是一件很值得期待的事情。但真的走到這個階段之後，才發現很多曾經很渴望的事情，在實現的過程中，也會慢慢變成生活的一部分。不是它們不再重要了，而是人好像真的很容易習慣自己曾經夢寐以求的東西。
所以這首歌對我來說，不只是記錄平凡的生活，而是去思考，我們究竟要怎麼看待那些已經發生、卻不再讓自己感到特別的事情。
至於歌詞的理解有沒有隨著時間改變，我覺得一定有。創作者在寫歌的當下，可能只是想表達某個情緒，但幾年之後再唱起來，你會發現自己已經走過一些當時還不理解的事情。歌詞沒有改變，可是唱歌的人變了。
我現在反而不太會急著替一首歌下定論。因為有些事情在寫下來的時候，我自己也未必真的想明白了。可能只是先把當下的感受留下來，等到某一天再回頭聽，才發現那幾句話原來還有其他意思。
我覺得這也是創作很有趣的地方。作品完成的那一刻，不代表它的意義就固定了。它會跟著創作者的經歷改變，也會因為聽眾各自的人生，產生原本沒有預期到的解讀。
某種程度上，我們寫下歌詞的時候是在記錄自己，但時間過去之後，那些文字也可能反過來讓我們重新認識自己。
Q4：紙鳶的音樂融合 Emo Rock、Grunge、Britpop 等元素，而新專輯中的〈Taste me Alive〉也進一步嘗試金屬語彙。對你們而言，這次在聲音上的探索是源於歌曲本身的需求，還是樂團希望主動突破既有風格？在嘗試新方向時，如何拿捏實驗性與紙鳶原有的音樂特色？
紙鳶：我覺得兩者都有，但對我來說，歌曲本身的需求還是比較重要。
因為我一直認為，曲風應該是拿來服務作品的，而不是反過來讓作品去配合某一種曲風。如果今天一首歌需要更強烈的侵略性，我們就去找適合它的聲音；如果它需要比較內斂、比較有空間的編曲，也不應該因為紙鳶過去的音樂比較衝，就硬是把它做得很滿。
像〈Taste me Alive〉這首歌，金屬的語彙對它來說就是一個適合的選擇。它需要的不是單純把音樂做得更重，透過聲音的重量、節奏和編曲的張力，去放大歌曲本身想傳達的東西。
至於怎麼拿捏實驗性與紙鳶原有的特色，我覺得關鍵在於我們怎麼定義自己的核心辨識度。對我來說，紙鳶不只是 Emo Rock、Grunge 或 Britpop 等曲風的組合，我們習慣用什麼角度看待這個世界，以及怎麼把那些不容易被說清楚的情緒與矛盾，轉化成有力量的作品。
從《人性本賤》對人性慾望的直面，到《缺頁的名冊》對失去、遺忘與日常的凝視，我們始終不太滿足於只描述一種情緒，我們會繼續追問它從何而來，以及自己在其中扮演了什麼角色。我認為這是紙鳶很重要的辨識度，也是我們希望透過歌詞與音樂共同呈現的東西。
所以我不會認為嘗試金屬就代表偏離了紙鳶原本的風格。比起守住某一種固定的精神，我更在意音樂是否真的承接了歌曲想說的事情，作品本身是否足夠誠實，也兼具內容與音樂性。
我希望紙鳶不會被某一種曲風限制住。聲音可以改變，創作方向也可以持續拓展，但我們看待人性、關係與世界的方式，以及把這些觀察轉化成作品的企圖心是始終不變的。
Q5：這張專輯邀請旅人、羊米人與知更參與合作。你們是如何決定哪些歌曲適合邀請其他音樂人加入？在與不同創作者交流、共同完成作品的過程中，有沒有出現原先未曾預期的音樂火花？
紙鳶：我覺得我們在決定合作人選的時候，還是會先回到歌曲本身去思考。不是每首歌都適合加入其他人的聲音，有些作品需要維持比較完整、單一的敘事，但有些歌如果能有不同的聲音或觀點進來，反而會讓作品產生原本沒有的層次。
像這次與旅人至凱、羊米人和知更的合作，我覺得三首歌的需求其實不太一樣。
〈Taste me Alive〉本身的音樂方向比較強烈，也有金屬的元素，所以旅人至凱的加入，讓這首歌有機會在原本的聲音基礎上，發展出更有張力的表現方式。
〈六月的雨縫〉則是另一種狀態。這首歌比較著重情緒的流動，以及人與人之間那些難以言說的感受。羊米人的加入，讓歌曲多了一種不同的情緒層次，也讓原本的敘事有了不一樣的呼吸感。
至於〈平凡的一天〉，知更的參與對我來說很有意義，因為這首歌承載了我對生活、時間，以及成為獨立音樂人之後一些心境變化的感受。我希望這首歌呈現的感覺試一種經歷過一些事情之後，重新看待日常的心情。知更的加入，讓這份情緒有了另一種詮釋，也讓歌曲最後呈現的樣子，不再只是我一個人的視角。
我覺得合作很有趣的地方，就是每個創作者都有自己的習慣和理解方式。同樣一段音樂、同樣一個情緒，不同的人可能會用完全不同的方式去詮釋。有時候你原本覺得自己已經很清楚這首歌要往哪裡走，但當另一個人加入之後，他的聲音或表達方式會讓你發現，原來這首歌還有其他可能性。
所以對我來說，合作不只是交換技術或聲音，也是讓自己的想法接受不同的詮釋。我們不一定要把每個細節都控制在原本的想像裡，只要最後這些不同的特質都能回到歌曲本身，成為作品的一部分，我覺得就是很珍貴的經驗。
Q6：紙鳶的創作主要由仁杰與崇祐發起，海豹擔綱製作，並與秉宸、亨利共同完成編曲。當一首歌從最初的詞曲雛形發展成完整作品時，團員通常如何交換想法、磨合不同的音樂觀點？有沒有哪首新歌特別能代表你們彼此激盪、共同塑造音樂的過程？
紙鳶：因為這張專輯做到後面，我們其實對於自己想像的紙鳶是什麼樣子都稍微不一樣，也更容易有衝突。像〈矯〉一開始叫〈我厭惡的流行歌曲〉，其實那個名字就是詞曲作者仁杰當時最滿意的想法，因為和第一張專輯的〈你聽過的流行歌曲〉是跨專輯的呼應。可是後來大家討論之後也慢慢說服仁杰，有時候把概念講得太滿，反而會讓作品少掉一些想像的空間，所以最後才改成〈矯〉。
仁杰：我覺得這也是我自己這兩年比較大的改變。以前可能會覺得「這就是我寫的，我為什麼要改？」但後來開始知道，妥協不一定等於放棄自己的東西，有時候是在找一個大家都能認同、但作品本身又沒有被犧牲掉的位置。
至於崇祐唱〈你在的地方〉，因為那首歌的氣質跟我們平常給人的印象差很多，而且我希望讓崇祐唱的原因是歌裡的角色想和〈查無此人〉呼應，讓崇祐比較溫柔細膩的聲線去對話是我想像的歌曲樣貌，對聽感來說也是一種新的嘗試。
Q7：紙鳶的作品經常觸及現實生活中的矛盾與個體處境。當你們想把某個社會現象或觀察寫進歌曲時，如何在具體事件與個人情緒之間找到平衡？你們會希望歌曲清楚傳達自己的立場，還是更傾向留下空間，讓聽眾形成自己的理解？
仁杰：我覺得這兩件事情其實很難完全分開，因為我們對一個社會現象產生情緒，本身就代表我們已經有了某種立場。但對我來說，比起急著告訴別人我是對的、誰是錯的，我更在意的是這個現象為什麼會發生？以及我們是不是也在不知不覺中成為其中的一部分？
像紙鳶有些作品，表面上是在談論社會現象，但我真正想追問的，往往不只是某個人的行為，而是讓這些行為得以發生的環境，以及我們習以為常的價值觀。因為很多事情並不是把一個人定義成好人或壞人，就真的能夠得到解答。
所以在創作的時候，我會希望具體的事件或觀察能夠成為入口，但不一定要把所有答案都寫出來。有時候太急著解釋，反而會讓作品失去原本可以延伸的空間。我更希望透過歌詞、意象和情緒，讓聽眾自己走進那個問題。
但留下空間，不代表我不願意表達立場。我還是希望作品有它明確的觀點，只是我不認為創作者有必要替聽眾完成所有思考。對我來說，一首歌可以很有立場，同時也容許別人從不同的生命經驗出發，得到不一樣的理解。
而且我覺得，當我們在批判某些現象的時候，也應該保留反過來檢視自己的可能。因為人很容易在看見別人的問題時，認為自己一定站在比較正確的位置，但實際上，我們也可能在某些情境下做出自己曾經批判過的事情。
所以我寫歌的時候，不太希望自己只是站在旁邊評論世界。有時候我也想把自己放進去，去思考自己是不是同樣受到那些價值觀影響，甚至是不是也曾經成為自己不認同的那種人。
至於聽眾最後會怎麼理解，我願意把那個空間留給他們。畢竟我能負責的是我為什麼寫這首歌，但我沒辦法替每個聽見它的人，決定這首歌應該代表什麼。
Q8：今年紙鳶受邀出席國際前往泰國 Monster Music Festival 演出，開始與台灣以外的樂迷交流。這次經驗是否改變你們對自身音樂的理解？你們最希望透過現場演出傳達什麼？
紙鳶：海外音樂節讓我們看見自己做得好的地方，也讓我們知道還缺什麼。像是現場的規模、舞台的製作、國際溝通，甚至是我們跟其他國家音樂人的交流方式，這些都是以前在台灣比較不容易意識到的事情。但我不會因此覺得我們一定要離開台灣，才有辦法證明自己。
反而是我更希望紙鳶可以把台灣這塊土地上累積出來的東西做好，然後有機會再帶出去。
因為我現在比較相信，真正有價值的海外交流，不是「去過哪裡」而已，你去了之後有沒有把一些新的東西帶回來，讓自己的作品跟現場變得更特別更完整。
所以如果未來還有機會去更多地方演出，我們當然會很期待，但我們比較希望有一天可以很理所當然地在台灣做好自己的音樂，也很理所當然地把它帶到世界其他地方。
這樣對我們來說才比較像是紙鳶真正開始飛向國際。
Q9：《缺頁的名冊》試著記錄那些可能被時間帶走的人事物，但生活仍然會不斷產生新的故事。完成這張專輯後，你們對創作、樂團以及自己有沒有產生新的理解？如果未來的紙鳶能回頭翻閱今天留下的這些音樂，你們希望那時候的自己，會從中看見什麼？
紙鳶：我們總是很習慣用結果去衡量一件事情的價值，包含創作也是。我們會在意作品有沒有被看見、被理解，甚至有沒有得到足夠的回應。但如果一件事情的價值，必須等到有人認可之後才能成立，而那些沒有被看見的東西，是不是就真的不重要了？
這也是《缺頁的名冊》對我來說很重要的地方。它讓我重新去思考，創作是不是除了表達自己，也能替一些可能被忽略的事情留下紀錄。即使它們沒有改變什麼，也不代表它們不值得被寫下來。
至於樂團，我覺得我們也還在學習怎麼一起走下去。每個人都會改變，對音樂的想法、對生活的期待，甚至對樂團的想像，都可能跟剛成立的時候不一樣。我不覺得一個樂團必須永遠維持最初的樣子，但我希望我們在改變的過程中，還是能夠知道自己為什麼開始做這些事情，以及為什麼到現在還願意繼續做下去。
仁杰：如果未來的紙鳶有一天回頭聽這張專輯，我希望我們看見的，不只是當時做出了什麼樣的作品是那個階段的我們，曾經很認真地思考一些事情，也很誠實地留下了自己的困惑。
我不一定希望未來的自己會認同現在寫下的每一句話。因為如果幾年過去了，我們對世界的理解還跟現在一模一樣，那或許也代表我們沒有真正經歷什麼改變。但至少我希望未來的我們不會因為害怕犯錯、害怕被誤解，或是太在意別人怎麼看待自己的作品，而慢慢失去提問的能力。
對我來說，創作最珍貴的地方是讓我們有機會回頭看見，自己曾經怎麼理解這個世界，又是如何一步一步走到今天。
Q10：最後想請各位團員各自推薦近期喜歡，或對自己有特殊意義的歌曲，並分享喜歡這首歌的原因。無論是旋律、歌詞、編曲，或是歌曲帶給自己的感受，都歡迎和大家分享。
仁杰：〈平凡的一天〉
我覺得人很容易把注意力放在還沒得到的東西上，總覺得等到下一個目標實現，生活才會真正開始。但人生好像不是這樣運作的，很多事情發生了就是發生了，時間也不會因為我們還沒準備好，就停下來等我們。如果要說這首歌帶給我什麼，我想是讓我開始學著接受，有些日子不需要特別有意義，也不一定要留下什麼成果。只是當下的我們，往往很難意識到自己正身處其中。或許很多年以後，當我們回頭想起現在，真正記得的未必是那些費盡力氣想完成的事情，而是某個再普通不過的下午、一次沒有特別理由的相聚，或是一段當時以為還會持續很久的日常，只是那個時候我們可能已經沒有辦法再回到那一天了。
所以我希望〈平凡的一天〉能留下的，不是要大家把每一天都過得多有意義，是想提醒大家當某一天終究成為過去，我們至少還能記得自己曾經好好地生活在那個時刻。
崇祐：〈星雲飄蕩〉
我們時常在生活中經歷很多不舒服的事情，可能是工作很累，可能是跟人吵架，可能是失戀，也可能只是今天真的過得很糟糕，這些情緒常常讓我們忘記身邊還有很多愛著我們的人，就像都市夜晚的天空，晚上抬頭看的時候，可能根本看不到幾顆星星，因為有太多燈光、太多東西把它們蓋住了，但是他們其實一直都在，我覺得身邊那些愛我們的人也是一樣，這首歌提醒我們其實一直都被愛著，就算現在看不到，也不代表它不存在。
秉宸：田馥甄〈大船〉
這首歌給我的感覺，就像是溫柔地看著一個人經歷風浪，然後慢慢歸航。
我們在生活裡常常像是一艘獨自航行在大海上的船，總是得獨自面對未知的風浪、突如其來的雨，甚至是漫無邊際的孤獨。很多時候我們被催促著要往前開、要勇敢、要堅強，但卻很少有人問我們「累不累？要不要停下來靠岸？」。
〈大船〉這首歌的旋律和歌詞有一種神奇的力量，它不會強迫你要立刻好起來，而是像一個寬廣的港灣，告訴你：「辛苦了，你已經做得很好，現在可以好好休息了。」它讓我覺得，無論我們在外面受了多少傷、經歷了多少迷惘，內心深處永遠會有一個安全的地方等待我們回航。希望這首歌也能給正在經歷風浪的人一種安心感——知道自己被溫柔地包容著，然後在休息夠了之後，又有勇氣重新出發。
海豹：Loathe 〈Fangs〉
Loathe 的音樂有一點很特別，就是他們在很重、很炸的音牆裡面，會塞進非常夢幻的旋律。聽〈Fangs〉的感覺就像站在風暴中心，外面雖然狂風暴雨，但當你被這種極度破壞力的聲音徹底包圍時，心裡反而會覺得超級平靜。
我們平常都得逼自己當個情緒穩定的人，隱藏自己的「獠牙」。這首歌像是一個情緒出口，發洩完之後再重新找回面對明天的力氣。
亨利：上山《如夢石》
這首歌在編曲上從平靜到兇狠，對於我來說很像在為一件事情吶喊的感覺，對於最近的我來說這首歌蠻符合我的心境的。
[Interview] Seizer — Unwritten Lines: Tracing the Marks Left by Time
Formed in 2024, Taiwanese band Seizer comprises vocalist and principal songwriter Jay, guitarist and producer Seal, guitarist and backing vocalist Kay, bassist Henry, and drummer Daniel. Following their debut album Human Nature Is Cheap, the band returned with their second album, Unwritten Lines, continuing to explore different facets of human nature, relationships, and everyday life.
From the direct confrontation with human desire on their debut to the new album’s reflections on loss, forgetting, and the everyday, Seizer continues to turn their observations and experiences into music.
In this interview, we talk about the origins of Unwritten Lines, how “Carpe diem” became a turning point in shaping the album’s concept, and the band’s exploration of new sounds, including metal influences. We also discuss their creative process, collaborations with other musicians, and what performing overseas has taught them about their own music.
From the making of individual songs to the band’s evolution over the past two years, we take a closer look at Unwritten Lines and how Seizer uses music to document the lives and thoughts of the people they are today.
Seizer
Second Album: Unwritten Lines
Digital Release: 9 September 2026
Physical Release: 9 October 2026
Q1: Since forming in 2024, Seizer have released two albums. The debut, 人性本賤, confronts human desire head-on, while their second album, 缺頁的名冊 (Unwritten Lines), turns its attention to loss, forgetting and regret. Where do you usually find inspiration for your music? How do experiences and observations from everyday life find their way into your songs?
Jay: I don't think inspiration necessarily comes from anything particularly extraordinary. More often, it comes from things in everyday life that we've grown accustomed to, or barely pay attention to at all.
人性本賤 deals more directly with desire, jealousy and the darker sides of human nature that we aren't always willing to acknowledge. With Unwritten Lines, I've become more interested in relationships, loss, and the things that ultimately aren't remembered as well as they should be.
For me, songwriting isn't simply a way to release my emotions. I'm more interested in thinking about what lies behind a particular feeling or phenomenon, and what causes it to happen. Why are people always so quick to judge others? Why is it that we sometimes end up becoming the very kind of person we dislike, without even realising it?
I usually start with questions like these, then gradually turn my observations into lyrics. But I don't insist that every song needs to have a fully developed concept. Sometimes it begins with nothing more than a feeling in the moment. I might return to it much later and realise that it has a connection with other songs after all.
That's essentially how Unwritten Lines came together. Many of the songs weren't deliberately written around a shared theme, but once they were finished, I realised they were approaching loss, forgetting, and the fact that life has to go on even when we don't have all the answers, each from a different angle.
So, for me, creating music is an ongoing process of observing and trying to understand the world. There are things I still can't quite make sense of, and that's precisely why I want to record them through my work. How listeners ultimately interpret these songs is up to them. I don't necessarily need to provide an answer to every question. At the very least, I hope the music can bring things that usually go unnoticed back into view.
Q2: The completion of “Carpe diem” became a starting point for the overall concept of Unwritten Lines to take shape. When a song that originally stood on its own begins to inform an entire album, how do you decide how the other tracks should relate to it? Was there a song that initially seemed unrelated to the concept but later became an indispensable part of the album?
Jay: For me, “Carpe diem” was more of a starting point that helped me understand the album differently. It wasn't a song I'd originally planned as the central idea around which the whole record would be built.
Many of the songs on the album were written at different times and in different states of mind. I didn't deliberately insist that every track had to fit a particular theme, because I don't want the creative process to become a matter of deciding on an answer first and then finding material to fill it in. I think that can make a song lose something of its original honesty.
But as more songs accumulated and I began listening to them together, I noticed that although they dealt with different subjects, there seemed to be certain things running beneath the surface. They might be doubts about human nature, reflections on relationships, or things we thought we'd moved on from but that return to our minds at unexpected moments.
“Carpe diem” is particularly important to me because it made me think about how life continues even when we're confronted with someone else's loss, regrets, or even deeply painful experiences. What happened yesterday can become part of everyday life by today. Something that once meant a great deal to one person can gradually disappear from everyone else's memory as time passes.
That gradually became the direction of Unwritten Lines: documenting things that seem insignificant, that haven't been properly acknowledged, or that might eventually be forgotten altogether.
If I had to name a song that later proved indispensable, I would actually find it difficult to single one out. What interests me about this album is that the songs weren't created for one another, yet they developed a connection once they were finished.
I think that's sometimes how creating music works. You don't necessarily know why you're writing certain things at the time. Only when you look back later do you realise you've been returning to similar questions all along. With this album, those thoughts that were originally scattered simply found a place together.
Q3: Every song on Unwritten Lines captures a different emotion or story. Is there a particular lyric or passage that you especially love or feel deeply connected to? Have your interpretations of these lyrics changed over time?
Jay: If I had to choose one, I'd go with “Carpe diem”.
What's special about this song is that it captures some of the ways my outlook on life and music changed after I became an independent musician.
In the past, I might have thought that releasing an album or playing on a bigger stage was something to look forward to above all else. But once you actually reach that stage, you realise that many things you've long dreamed of can gradually become part of everyday life as you work towards them. It's not that they stop mattering. We're just very good at getting used to the things we once desperately wanted.
So, for me, this song isn't simply about documenting ordinary life. It's about asking how we should look at things that have already happened but no longer feel special to us.
As for whether the meaning of the lyrics changes over time, I think it inevitably does. When a songwriter writes something, they might simply be trying to express a particular emotion. But when you sing those words again a few years later, you may realise you've lived through experiences you couldn't understand at the time. The lyrics haven't changed, but the person singing them has.
These days, I'm less inclined to rush to a definitive interpretation of a song. When I write something, I may not fully understand it myself. Sometimes I simply preserve what I'm feeling in that moment. Then, one day, I return to it and discover that those same lines carry other meanings.
That's one of the most interesting things about making music. A song's meaning isn't fixed the moment it's finished. It changes alongside the songwriter's experiences, and listeners bring their own lives to it, finding interpretations we never anticipated.
In a way, writing lyrics allows us to document who we are. But as time passes, those same words can also help us understand ourselves all over again.
Q4: Seizer's music draws on elements of emo rock, grunge and Britpop, while “Taste me Alive” on the new album takes things further by incorporating metal influences. Does this sonic exploration arise from the needs of individual songs, or from a conscious desire to push beyond the band's established sound? When exploring new directions, how do you balance experimentation with the musical identity that defines Seizer?
Seizer: I think it's a bit of both, but the needs of the song itself are more important to me.
I've always felt that genre should serve the music, rather than forcing a song to conform to a particular genre. If a song needs a stronger sense of aggression, we'll look for sounds that suit it. If it calls for a more restrained arrangement with greater space, we shouldn't force it to sound dense and intense just because Seizer's previous music has tended to be more explosive.
With “Taste me Alive”, metal felt like an appropriate choice. The point wasn't simply to make the music heavier. It was to use the weight of the sound, the rhythm and the tension in the arrangement to amplify what the song was trying to express.
As for balancing experimentation with our existing identity, I think the key lies in how we define what makes us recognisable. To me, Seizer isn't simply a combination of emo rock, grunge and Britpop. It's also about the perspective through which we look at the world, and how we turn emotions and contradictions that are difficult to articulate into something powerful.
From confronting human desire on 人性本賤 to reflecting on loss, forgetting and everyday life on Unwritten Lines, we've never been entirely satisfied with simply describing an emotion. We want to keep asking where it comes from and what role we ourselves play in it. I think that's an important part of Seizer's identity, and something we want to express through both our lyrics and our music.
So I don't see experimenting with metal as a departure from Seizer's original sound. Rather than holding on to a fixed musical identity, I'm more concerned with whether the music genuinely serves what a song wants to say, and whether the work is honest while remaining musically compelling.
I hope Seizer won't be confined to any single genre. Our sound can change and our creative direction can continue to expand, but the way we look at human nature, relationships and the world, and our determination to turn those observations into music will remain.
Q5: The album features collaborations with Traveller’s KAI, YUMMY MAN and John Stoniae. How do you decide which songs would benefit from bringing in other musicians? Did any unexpected musical sparks emerge from exchanging ideas and creating music together?
Seizer: When deciding whom to collaborate with, I think we always come back to the song itself. Not every track needs another voice. Some songs benefit from maintaining a more unified narrative, while others can gain new layers when different voices or perspectives enter the picture.
The three collaborations with Traveller’s KAI, YUMMY MAN and John Stoniae each served a different purpose.
“Taste me Alive” has a more forceful musical direction and incorporates metal elements. KAI's contribution gave us the opportunity to develop a more dynamic and powerful expression within the song's existing sonic framework.
“Until the rain” is in a different place emotionally. It focuses more on the movement of emotion and the feelings between people that are difficult to put into words. YUMMY MAN brought another emotional layer to the track, giving its narrative a different sense of breathing room.
Stoniae’s contribution to “Carpe diem” was particularly meaningful to me. The song carries my reflections on life and time, as well as the changes in my outlook since becoming an independent musician. I wanted it to convey the feeling of looking at everyday life differently after having lived through certain experiences. Stoniae's involvement brought another interpretation to that feeling, so the finished song was no longer simply a reflection of my own perspective.
What makes collaboration interesting is that every creator has their own habits and way of understanding things. Faced with the same piece of music or the same emotion, different people may express it in completely different ways. Sometimes you think you already know exactly where a song should go, but once someone else joins in, their voice or approach reveals possibilities you hadn't considered.
For me, collaboration isn't just about exchanging techniques or sounds. It's also about allowing my own ideas to be interpreted differently. We don't necessarily have to control every detail according to our original vision. As long as those different qualities ultimately serve the song and become part of the work, I think it's a valuable experience.
Q6: Seizer's songs are primarily initiated by Jay and Kay, with Seal overseeing production and Daniel and Henry contributing to the arrangements. As a song develops from an initial lyrical and melodic idea into a finished piece, how do you exchange ideas and work through different musical perspectives? Is there a track on the new album that particularly reflects the process of shaping music together?
Seizer: Towards the end of making this album, we realised that each of us had a slightly different idea of what Seizer should sound like, which naturally led to more disagreements.
Take “矯” (Maverick), for example. It was originally titled “我厭惡的流行歌曲” (The Pop Song I Hate). That was the title Jay, who wrote the song, was most satisfied with at the time, because it echoed “你聽過的流行歌曲” (The Pop Song You've Heard) from our debut album. The two songs were intended to reference each other across albums.
But after discussing it as a band, we gradually persuaded Jay that spelling out a concept too explicitly can sometimes leave a work with less room for imagination. That's why we eventually changed the title to “矯”.
Jay: I think that's one of the biggest changes in me over the past two years. I used to think, “I wrote this, so why should I change it?” But I've gradually come to understand that compromise doesn't necessarily mean giving up your own ideas. Sometimes it's about finding a position that everyone can agree on without sacrificing the work itself.
As for having Kay sing “你在的地方” (Where You Are), the song has a very different character from what people might usually associate with us. I wanted Chongyou to sing it because the character in the song was intended to echo the one in “查無此人” (Absence). I imagined Kay's gentler, more delicate voice entering into that dialogue. It also offered us a new direction in terms of how the song could sound.
Q7: Seizer's music often explores contradictions in the real world and the circumstances individuals find themselves in. When you want to incorporate a social issue or observation into a song, how do you balance the specific event with your own emotions? Do you want the song to communicate a clear position, or would you rather leave room for listeners to form their own interpretations?
Jay: I think it's difficult to separate those two things completely, because the very fact that we have an emotional response to a social phenomenon means we already have a certain position on it. But rather than rushing to tell people that I'm right and someone else is wrong, I'm more interested in asking why the phenomenon happens in the first place and whether we might unknowingly be part of it ourselves.
Some of Seizer's songs appear to address social issues on the surface, but what I really want to question often goes beyond an individual's behaviour. I'm interested in the environment that allows that behaviour to happen, as well as the values we've come to take for granted. Simply labelling someone as good or bad doesn't necessarily help us understand what's going on.
When writing, I want a specific event or observation to serve as an entry point, but I don't necessarily want to spell everything out. Sometimes, explaining too much too quickly takes away the room a work could otherwise leave for interpretation. I'd rather use lyrics, imagery and emotion to invite listeners into the question themselves.
That said, leaving room for interpretation doesn't mean I'm unwilling to express a position. I still want the work to have a clear point of view. I just don't think a songwriter needs to do all the thinking on behalf of the listener. A song can take a strong position while still allowing people, drawing on their own life experiences, to arrive at different understandings.
I also think that when we criticise certain phenomena, we should leave room to examine ourselves in return. It's easy to see a problem in someone else and assume we're standing on the right side. In reality, there may be circumstances in which we do the very things we've criticised.
That's why I don't want to write songs as though I'm simply standing at a distance and commenting on the world. Sometimes I want to place myself within the picture and ask whether I've been influenced by the same values, or whether I've ever become the kind of person I disagree with.
As for how listeners ultimately interpret the songs, I'm happy to leave that space to them. I can take responsibility for why I wrote a song, but I can't decide what it should mean to everyone who hears it.
Q8: This year, Seizer performed at Thailand's Monster Music Festival, connecting with audiences beyond Taiwan for the first time on this scale. Did the experience change how you understand your own music? What do you most hope to communicate through your live performances?
Seizer: Performing at an overseas festival showed us what we do well, but also what we're still missing. Things like the scale of the event, stage production, international communication and even how we interact with musicians from other countries. These are areas we didn't necessarily have as much opportunity to recognise while working in Taiwan.
But I don't think that means we have to leave Taiwan to prove ourselves.
If anything, I want Seizer to continue developing what we've built here in Taiwan, and then take it elsewhere when the opportunity comes.
I'm increasingly convinced that meaningful international exchange isn't simply about being able to say you've performed somewhere. It's about what you bring back from the experience, and whether it helps make your music and live performances more distinctive and complete.
Of course, we'd be excited to perform in more places in the future. But our hope is to reach a point where making our own music in Taiwan feels entirely natural, and taking that music to other parts of the world feels just as natural.
To us, that's when Seizer will truly have begun to take flight internationally.
Q9: Unwritten Lines attempts to document people and things that might otherwise be carried away by time, yet life continues to generate new stories. After completing the album, have your understanding of music, the band and yourselves changed? If a future version of Seizer could look back through the music you're making today, what would you hope to see?
Seizer: We're accustomed to measuring the value of something by its results, and that includes creative work. We care about whether our music is seen and understood, and even whether it receives enough of a response. But if something only becomes valuable once someone else recognises it, does that mean the things that go unnoticed are genuinely unimportant?
That's one of the things that makes Unwritten Lines important to me. It has led me to reconsider whether creating music can do more than express ourselves whether it can also preserve a record of things that might otherwise be overlooked. Even if those things don't change anything, that doesn't mean they aren't worth writing about.
As for the band, I think we're still learning how to keep moving forward together. Everyone changes. Our ideas about music, our expectations of life and even our understanding of what the band should be can all differ from when we first started. I don't think a band has to remain exactly as it was at the beginning. But as we change, I hope we can still remember why we started doing this in the first place, and why we're still willing to carry on.
Jay: If Seizer looks back on this album one day, I hope we'll see more than just the work we made. I hope we'll see who we were at that particular stage of our lives: people who took certain questions seriously and honestly left their uncertainties in the music.
I don't necessarily hope that my future self will agree with every line I've written today. If, several years from now, our understanding of the world is exactly the same as it is now, perhaps that would mean we haven't truly changed or experienced very much. But at the very least, I hope we won't gradually lose the ability to ask questions because we're afraid of making mistakes, being misunderstood, or caring too much about how others perceive our work.
For me, the most precious thing about creating music is that it gives us a chance to look back and see how we once understood the world and how we've gradually arrived at where we are today.
Q10: Finally, we'd like each member to recommend a song they have been enjoying recently, or one that holds a special meaning for them, and tell us why they chose it. Whether it's the melody, lyrics, arrangement or the feelings it evokes, we'd love to hear what makes the song meaningful to you.
Jay — “平凡的一天” (Carpe diem)
I think it's easy to focus on the things we haven't yet achieved, always assuming that life will truly begin once we reach the next goal. But I don't think life works that way. Things happen when they happen, and time won't stop to wait for us just because we're not ready.
If this song has taught me anything, it's to accept that some days don't need to be particularly meaningful, nor do they have to produce any tangible results. The difficulty is that, while we're living through them, we often don't realise that we're already in the middle of something worth remembering.
Perhaps many years from now, when we look back on the present, the things we'll remember most vividly won't necessarily be the goals we worked so hard to achieve. They might instead be an ordinary afternoon, an unplanned gathering, or a part of everyday life we once assumed would continue for a long time. By then, we may no longer be able to return to that day.
So I hope “平凡的一天” doesn't tell people that every day has to be made meaningful. Rather, I hope it reminds them that when a day eventually becomes part of the past, they can at least remember that they were once there, living through that moment.
Kay — “星雲飄蕩” (Cradled by the night)
We go through all kinds of difficult experiences in everyday life. Work might leave us exhausted, we might argue with someone, go through a breakup, or simply have a terrible day. Those feelings can make us forget that there are still people around us who love us.
It's a little like looking up at the night sky in a city. With all the lights and other distractions, you might barely see any stars. But they're still there.
I think the people who love us are much the same. This song reminds us that we're loved, even when we can't feel it. Just because we can't see it right now doesn't mean it isn't there.
Daniel: Hebe Tien — “大船” (Lost and Wandering)
This song feels to me like gently watching someone weather a storm before slowly making their way home.
In life, we often feel like ships sailing alone across a vast ocean, having to face unknown storms, sudden rain, and sometimes an overwhelming sense of loneliness. We are constantly urged to keep moving forward, to be brave, to stay strong, yet very few people stop to ask, “Are you tired? Do you want to stop and come ashore for a while?”
There is something almost magical about the melody and lyrics of “大船” It never forces you to feel better right away. Instead, it feels like a wide, welcoming harbour, telling you, “You’ve been through a lot. You’ve done enough. It’s okay to rest now.” It reminds me that no matter how many wounds we carry or how lost we may feel out there, there will always be a safe place deep within us waiting for us to return.
I hope this song can offer the same sense of reassurance to anyone going through a storm, the feeling of being gently held and accepted, knowing that once you have rested enough, you will find the courage to set sail again.
Seal: Loathe — “Fangs”
There’s something particularly fascinating about Loathe’s music. Within their incredibly heavy and explosive walls of sound, they weave in melodies that feel almost dreamlike. Listening to “Fangs” feels like standing at the centre of a storm. The world outside may be filled with wind and rain, but when you are completely surrounded by the sheer destructive force of the sound, you somehow end up feeling incredibly calm.
We are constantly expected to keep our emotions in check and to hide our own “fangs.” This song feels like an outlet for all of that emotion, a place to let it out, before finding the strength to face another day.
Henry: Shang Shan — “如夢石”
The arrangement of this song moves from calm and restrained to fierce and intense. To me, it feels like shouting out for something you deeply believe in. And lately, it has resonated quite strongly with where I am emotionally.
