Episode 8 – Rock is a Lady’s Modesty

This week’s episode opens on a great scene, with Tina struggling for her life against hurricane-level winds, symbolizing her other three bandmates’ raw rock and roll power. It’s like she’s stuck in that iconic Maxell commercial. While this isn’t groundbreaking imagery, it’s a fitting beginning for a chapter where characters use a lot of life-or-death language when arguing about the future of their ensemble. Melodrama always works better when the visuals rise to the occasion. Here, Tina musters the strength to push through their onslaught and reach her keyboard, which foreshadows her ultimate victory, borne of her own determination.

Before we reach that point, though, her biggest barrier remains Tamaki, who wastes no time choking the apology out of poor Usami’s plush neck. Remember, this is a life-or-death situation. Tamaki initially sees Tina as an annoyance who gets in the way of her real battle against Lilisa, but as I discussed last week, there are very good reasons why she and Tina have been introduced together. The text of this episode makes those connections even more blatant, with Otoha recalling a younger and more wide-eyed Tamaki. Tina is currently very childlike in her infatuation with rock and her amateur-level proficiency. Rock is a Lady’s Modesty, however, continues to extol the virtues of authenticity, and that’s exactly where Tina lays down her life.

Lilisa also cements her own connection to Tina’s struggles. She flashes back to the moment when she realized she would have to put on a mask to appease her mother. She knows the pain that comes from shaping oneself to others’ expectations. She can’t give up on Tina because it would mean giving up on herself. When she says, “Because she’s fighting to live life in her own way! And that’s the kinda person I wanna rock out with!” she delivers a perfect summary of Rock Lady’s ethos. Additionally, Lilisa’s defiance finally spurs Otoha to take an active role in Tina’s tutelage, as she wisely suggests they simplify the keyboard part. She was hands-off last week, but loves Lilisa too much not to trust her twin-tailed intuition. If Lilisa believes Tina can rock, then Otoha does as well.

Tamaki, meanwhile, is secretly the funniest character. My “bratty bottom” assessment from last week’s review receives further support from the new material, and the one detail I’d add is that Otoha is not the only person holding her leash. When Lilisa refuses to let Tina walk out, Tamaki gives in a bit too quickly. She delivers the five-day limit like an ultimatum, but that’s just a face-saving way of framing her pliancy. In other words, she’s tsun-tsun, which also colors her current rivalry with Lilisa. Tamaki keeps provoking her in a manner that almost seems engineered to make Lilisa whoop her ass. I can read between the lines. However, our resident drummer still brings out her best material—Tamaki rolls over every time Otoha so much as bats her eyelashes at her. Otoha confirms she knows this, too, because she exercises that power as soon as Tamaki considers dropping Tina from the band. Tamaki is all bark and no bite, and I don’t see this season ending without the other girls taking turns rubbing her tummy.

With Tina’s position sorted, the second part of the episode is slightly more perfunctory, setting up next week’s climactic concert conflict against Bitter Ganache. That’s not to say it doesn’t have good material, though. I love Lilisa’s legally distinct Rolling Stones shirt, and I know for a fact she has a drawer full of British Invasion graphic tees. That isn’t conjecture, either, because she gives one to Tina. As far as boob gags go, I think a stretched-out shirt logo is top-tier, and I also want to commend the translation for whipping out “bazongas” and “honkers” to convey Lilisa’s tone properly. On the other hand, Ganache’s frontwoman itching to feel up Tina swerves a bit too far into tired cliché territory. The show shouldn’t need to resort to those light titillations when Rock Lady’s forte is foul-mouthed lesbian perverts.

Despite Tina’s internal victories, I appreciate that Rock Lady still has Tamaki bring the band back down to earth. In the end, music is a performance. They’re doing this for an audience that is going to judge them accordingly. Music touches the players and the listeners in related yet distinct ways, both of which are important. To be a true rock and roll star, Tina has to express her authentic self and inspire the audience in the same way that Lilisa originally inspired her. There are many ladies left to radicalize. At the same time, Tamaki has to learn how to wield her ego in concert with her fellow instrumentalists. She can’t hold onto her icy pride. This is why the constant innuendo is actually brilliant, because sex is a great metaphor for playing music. While good sex might look messy and adversarial to an outside observer, it stems from mutual respect, communication, and trust between partners. That’s what Lilisa and Otoha have, and that’s what Tamaki can’t quite see. Their foursome is not yet a proper band, but they’re only a few steps away from making sweaty and passionate music together.

Finally, if you haven’t read it already, please check out Lynzee’s interview with the anime’s director Shinya Watada. He doles out trenchant insights on the series’ use of mocap, recommends good bands, and reinforces the revolutionary spirit at Rock Lady’s heart.

Rating:

Rock is a Lady’s Modesty is currently streaming on
HIDIVE on Thursdays.

Steve is on Bluesky for all of your posting needs. He is modest as a mouse. You can also catch him chatting about trash and treasure alike on This Week in Anime.

Disclosure: Bandai Namco Filmworks Inc. (Sunrise) is a non-controlling, minority shareholder in Anime News Network Inc.