Mashiro no Oto [Season 1 Episodes 1-12]

Mashiro no Oto: A Raw, Unfinished Melody That Strikes a Chord

Let’s cut to the chase: Mashiro no Oto isn’t your typical feel-good music anime. No sparkly trophies, no “power of friendship” speeches that fix everything, and definitely no easy wins. Adapted from Marimo Ragawa’s manga and produced by Shin-Ei Animation (the studio behind Crayon Shin-chan, of all things), this 12-episode Spring 2021 series follows Setsu Sawamura—a teen shamisen prodigy reeling from his grandfather’s death—who moves to Tokyo to find his own “sound” amid family drama, cultural pressure, and the relentless grind of traditional music competitions. And if the fan reactions are anything to go by? It’s a show that sticks with you—for better or for worse.

First, let’s talk about the good stuff, because there’s a lot to love. Fans on MyAnimeList can’t stop gushing about Setsu’s growth: “Setsu didn’t let his past hold him back and played with his heart,” one user writes of his final performance. The series nails the emotional core of grief and identity—Setsu isn’t just learning to play the shamisen; he’s learning to be himself instead of living in his grandfather’s shadow. The family drama hits hard, too: “The writing is pretty good with all the drama (especially the family one),” says another viewer, even if they wished the show was about “a different instrument” (shamisen haters, unite? Kinda).

But let’s get real—this show is messy. And not the “charming messy” of a slice-of-life comedy. The messy of a kid whose parents are actual garbage. Umeko, Setsu’s mom, is a fan-favorite villain for a reason: she drops his third-place trophy and calls him “pathetic” after the final competition, and fans are fuming. “Mommy is scummy, daddy is scummy, man Setsu’s parents are really fine folks,” one user rants. His dad isn’t much better—both are obsessed with turning Setsu into a carbon copy of his grandfather, not letting him carve his own path. It’s frustrating, it’s infuriating, and it’s real. This isn’t a show where parents suddenly “get it”; it’s a show where they keep adding fuel to the fire, and you can’t help but yell at the screen.

Then there’s the ending. Oh, the ending. If you’re here for closure, you’re in the wrong place. The final episode leaves everything hanging: unresolved family tensions, Setsu’s third-place loss (to the annoying Arakawa guy, no less), and a mother who doubles down on her cruelty. “I don’t feel like this is the final episode at all,” a fan complains. “Too many unresolved situations.” Another adds: “It’s an unfinished song with unknown length.” And honestly? That’s the point. Mashiro no Oto isn’t about wrapping things up neatly—it’s about the struggle. Setsu doesn’t win the competition because he’s not ready to win. As one user puts it: “Setsu’s problem was that he spent far too long trying to be like his grandad… while he really should have spent more time trying to be himself.” His third-place finish isn’t a failure—it’s a wake-up call.

But let’s address the elephant in the room: the shamisen. Yes, it’s a divisive instrument. “I absolutely hated the shamisen to the point that I had to fast-forward all the playing moments,” one viewer admits. But for others, that’s the magic. The animation of Setsu’s fast fingers—“even the animation couldn’t keep up,” a fan jokes—makes the performances feel visceral, like you can hear the strings vibrating through the screen. The show doesn’t sugarcoat traditional music: it’s hard, it’s competitive, and it’s full of people who judge you for not playing “the right way.”

So why is this show underrated? Because it’s not for everyone. It’s not flashy, it’s not happy-go-lucky, and it doesn’t cater to your expectations. But that’s exactly why it works. “This anime really is underrated,” a fan says. “Only this anime did I wait a whole week just to watch 24 minutes.” It’s a hidden gem for anyone who’s ever felt like they’re living in someone else’s shadow, or like their best isn’t good enough. Setsu’s frustration—“everyone was blaming him for not playing the sound they wanted to hear,” another user notes—resonates because we’ve all been there: trying to please people who will never be satisfied, even when we give it our all.

Is there a second season? Fans are begging for it. “Many things haven’t been resolved,” one says, “and sadly I can’t find the manga in my country.” But even if there isn’t, Mashiro no Oto stands on its own as a raw, honest look at what it means to create art. It’s not a perfect show—there are pacing issues, some characters feel underdeveloped, and that ending will leave you wanting more—but it’s real.

At the end of the day, Mashiro no Oto is like a shamisen song: it’s rough around the edges, it’s full of emotion, and it doesn’t end when you want it to. But if you let it, it’ll stay with you—long after the final note fades. As one fan puts it: “It’s an unfinished song with unknown length.” And sometimes, the unfinished ones are the ones that matter most.

Final Verdict? If you’re tired of generic music anime and want something that hits you in the feels (even if it makes you scream at the screen), give Mashiro no Oto a shot. Just don’t expect a happy ending—expect a real one. And hey, if you hate the shamisen? You’re not alone. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll grow to love it. Or at least tolerate it. No promises.