Records and numbers are important, but there's nothing better

“Records and numbers are important, but there's nothing better than a lot of people being happy through our music.” Thus spoke Jin, singer and artist, whose words carry the weight of both humility and truth. In these words we are reminded that while records and numbers—the trophies of men and the statistics of fame—may glitter brightly, they are but shadows compared to the light of joy that music brings to the hearts of people. True greatness, he declares, lies not in charts or crowns, but in the unseen smiles of those who are lifted, healed, and strengthened by a song.

The origin of this wisdom lies in the nature of art itself. From the beginning of time, music has never been measured only in achievements or accolades. The ancient bards did not count their worth by the number of listeners, but by the lives touched and the spirits renewed. Jin, standing in this ancient tradition though clothed in modern form, reminds us that the highest purpose of music is not the glorification of the artist, but the transformation of the listener. What value is there in breaking records if the heart of the people remains untouched?

History bears witness to this truth. Consider the story of Johann Sebastian Bach, who lived humbly and composed tirelessly, often without recognition. In his lifetime, he was not celebrated as the giant we honor today. His numbers were few, his records unseen. And yet, centuries later, his music still brings tears, courage, and joy to countless souls. His worth was never in the trophies of his age, but in the enduring happiness his music awakened in the generations that followed.

So too, think of the songs sung by the common folk in times of trial—work songs, lullabies, hymns of hope. These were not measured by numbers or sales, yet they carried men through storms, mothers through sleepless nights, and soldiers through battlefields. The happiness they brought, though uncounted, was greater than any chart could capture. Jin’s words breathe the same spirit: that the true measure of music is not in the ledger of statistics, but in the hidden ledgers of the heart.

And yet, his saying is not a dismissal of records and achievements. He acknowledges their place, for records and numbers are important—they are milestones, signs of progress, evidence of labor rewarded. But they are not the final crown. They are stepping stones, not the destination. The crown, the true triumph, is when music becomes a balm for the weary, a fire for the discouraged, a light for the lost. For in that moment, the work of the artist aligns with the eternal purpose of creation: to bring joy, unity, and healing to humankind.

The lesson for us is clear: do not measure your worth only in numbers—whether in wealth, applause, or achievements. Instead, measure it in the unseen joy you give to others, in the lives you touch, in the happiness you spread. The world will always count and calculate, but Heaven counts differently. The smallest act of kindness, the simplest word of comfort, the humblest song may matter more than a thousand trophies.

Therefore, let each person act with intention. Create not only for gain, but for good. Work not only for recognition, but for the unseen impact you leave behind. When you strive, strive to leave others better, brighter, and stronger because of your presence. In this way, your life itself becomes like music—a melody that endures long after the numbers are forgotten, a harmony that echoes in the hearts of those who heard it.

So let Jin’s words remain in your soul: “Records and numbers are important, but there's nothing better than a lot of people being happy through our music.” This is not merely the creed of an artist, but a truth for all humanity. For the greatest record one can set is not in the books of men, but in the joy of countless lives uplifted by your song, your work, your love. That is the music that never fades.