“Instruments, you say? If I were to claim familiarity, I’d say the esteemed elders present here are far more acquainted than I am. I’m just a junior, and my understanding of musical instruments pales in comparison to yours. However, after hearing everyone’s performances just now, I can’t help but notice a few flaws. Take, for example, the Nathan Reed. It’s a traditional instrument, yes, but its tone doesn’t hold a candle to modern instruments like the saxophone or the trumpet. Saxophones, for instance, produce music that is cheerful and lively, but the Nathan Reed is far too sorrowful. People don’t gravitate toward music steeped in sadness.”
At these words, an elderly man who had just performed with the Nathan Reed stood abruptly, his face flushed with anger. “Would you play cheerful tunes at someone’s funeral?” he countered, his voice trembling with indignation. “The Nathan Reed sends souls to their rest. It’s not meant to produce the kind of jubilance you’re after!”
Luther’s face twitched at the rebuke, but he forced a cold smile and replied, “Sir, I meant no disrespect! Nor am I trying to take away your livelihood. I’m merely pondering the possibility-what if, one day, the Nathan Reed falls out of use as society evolves? What happens then? Have you never considered the idea of innovation?”
The old man snorted angrily. “Innovation? The Nathan Reed is a symbol of our Seclela people! It’s a tradition passed down through generations. Are you suggesting we abandon it? Do you want our heritage to disappear entirely?”
Luther quickly waved his hands in protest. “No, no, that’s not what I mean. I’m simply saying that as time progresses, cultural practices gradually merge. Isn’t it true that many traditions from various ethnicities are slowly evolving?”
The elder’s glare sharpened. “You’re speaking nonsense! Do you even understand your own culture? Do you comprehend what it means to preserve a legacy? You think a few piano lessons make you qualified to critique centuries of history? Are you suggesting we dilute and alter our unique identity?”
“Our traditions have been passed down for thousands of years! Do you think they can be changed so casually?”
Luther was momentarily speechless, clearly realizing he had angered an unwavering traditionalist.
Sensing the tension, Gabriel, seated on the stage, quickly intervened with a conciliatory tone. “Gentlemen, please. Mr. Falcon isn’t trying to disrespect cultural heritage. He’s merely sharing his own perspective. Let’s not take it to heart.”
The elder snorted again but reluctantly sat down, his displeasure evident.
“Go on, Mr. Falcon,” Gabriel prompted, signaling for Luther to continue.
Luther, unfazed, adjusted his posture and resumed speaking. “Now, let’s talk about drums. Modern drums have evolved significantly. Those massive, cumbersome old drums are no longer practical. We should broaden our horizons and learn from the innovations happening elsewhere.”
After critiquing several instruments, Luther’s tone softened as he offered some praise. “Of course, among all these instruments, the best remains our nation’s own Lydia Strings. This ancient instrument has endured for thousands of years, producing melodies as smooth as flowing water, gentle yet profound.”
“I have a deep appreciation for the Lydia Strings. It’s one of the most remarkable instruments I’ve encountered. Unfortunately, it hasn’t gained global recognition because it’s too rigidly confined to tradition. Its sound is too soft, its melodies too refined and elegant, too steeped in antiquity. That’s why it struggles to gain broader appeal.”
“Nowadays, people prefer bold, intense music. Gentle, melancholic tunes simply don’t resonate with them.”
“In the end, I believe we need to focus on instruments that can transcend borders and find a place on the world stage. Take the piano, for example, which I just played. It’s an instrument embraced worldwide! It’s taught in universities, and even in some primary and secondary schools. That alone shows the profound influence of the piano on music.”
Luther dove into an animated discussion about the piano, detailing its tonal qualities, the emotions it could convey, and its versatility. He spoke at length, leaving the audience alternately captivated and confused. Still, they nodded in agreement, as though his words carried undeniable truth.
“Perhaps some of you may be reluctant to acknowledge this, but the sheer number of compositions created for the piano speaks volumes. Its presence in mainstream music is undeniable. So, when I say the piano is the king of all instruments, is that really an exaggeration?”
His bold declaration stirred the crowd. Many in the audience found themselves agreeing with Luther. Indeed, the piano had become indispensable in modern music.
“Mr. Falcon is truly impressive-his eloquence is unmatched!” Cyan couldn’t help but praise him again, her admiration glowing. At that moment, Luther seemed to her like a prince among men.
But Georgia, seated nearby, remained unimpressed. To her, Luther was nothing special.
Meanwhile, the traditional musicians were in an uproar. Luther’s proclamation had struck a nerve. The title of “king of instruments” for the piano was an affront to their deeply cherished traditions.
“How dare he call a modern instrument the king of all instruments? Outrageous!”
“This young man thinks a few lessons on a trendy instrument give him the right to belittle our heritage? Shameless!”
“Get down from that stage! Let me teach you a lesson!”
Angry voices rose from the traditionalists, many of whom stood, their frustration boiling over.
Gabriel, still holding the microphone, quickly stepped in. “Everyone, please calm down. Let’s maintain order!”
“I believe Luther has a point. The piano truly is a remarkable instrument. Just look at the popular music on major platforms-it’s dominated by piano melodies. I understand your frustration, but you can’t deny that the piano produces superior sound compared to what we’ve heard today.”
Gabriel’s blunt words were like a dagger, piercing the hearts of these guardians of tradition. Their instruments, representing countless years of history and symbolism, had just been dismissed outright.
The divide between modern and traditional instruments was nothing new-everyone knew it existed. But no one had ever dared to voice it so brazenly in a public forum. Gabriel’s remarks were a brutal blow, leaving the traditionalists seething.
“Ridiculous! That’s only because you haven’t heard us perform the Nathan Reed’s ‘The Phoenix!'”
“Or ‘The Snail’s Drum Dance!'”
“And don’t forget ‘Seasons of Spring!'”
Gabriel smirked dismissively. “You keep talking about these legendary pieces, but I’ve yet to see anyone actually perform them. They’re relics, lost to time. Empty boasts mean nothing. Don’t you get tired of repeating the same claims? Because I’m certainly tired of hearing them.”
His words were as cold and cutting as a blade, striking at the core of their pride.
Just then, a calm yet commanding voice broke through the commotion.
“Very well. Allow me to play one of the so-called weakest instruments-the Celestial Harp.”