Believe

"Believe" is the side of LUNA SEA that their heavier moments sometimes obscure: patient, melodic, reaching toward something genuinely anthemic without losing the melancholy that runs through everything they made. The arrangement builds methodically, guitar tones cleaner and more ringing than on their harder material, creating space for Ryuichi to inhabit the vocal line with something close to tenderness. The chorus doesn't arrive as explosion so much as opening — a widening of sonic sky. There's a mid-song instrumental passage where the guitars interlace in a way that feels like a conversation rather than competition, and it's in moments like these that LUNA SEA's musicianship becomes most audible. Lyrically the song is about faith as a willed act — the choice to trust in something or someone despite evidence that doubt is more rational. It's an optimism that acknowledges darkness rather than ignoring it, which is what gives it weight. Released in a period when the band was reaching their commercial and artistic peak, "Believe" was LUNA SEA offering something accessible without dumbing down. You return to this song in the specific emotional register of renewed determination — after something has been difficult and you're deciding to continue anyway, when you need music that confirms that persistence is worth something.