COUNTDOWN CONCERT 2025-2026 STARTO to MOVE returned at the end of 2025 carrying far more weight than a year‑end concert usually does. After a long absence, the revival of the traditional New Year’s countdown felt less like the resumption of an annual event and more like a quiet statement of intent. This was not simply about counting down into a new year, but about reaffirming what STARTO ENTERTAINMENT has always positioned itself as at its core: a family built on continuity, shared history, and the careful passing of time from one generation to the next.
From the moment the stage was filled with artists spanning multiple eras, the tone was clear. The night leaned deliberately into connection rather than spectacle. Familiar structures returned—shuffle units, medleys, cross‑group moments—but they were framed not as novelty, but as reminders. This is how STARTO has always told its story: seniors and juniors sharing space, experience flowing quietly downward, growth happening in relation to what came before. Even viewers who approached the broadcast cautiously could find themselves being pulled into that atmosphere because the language of the countdown was unmistakably communal.
Much of the emotional resonance came from moments that felt reflective rather than loud. From the opening sequence, the concert established its tone by gathering dozens of artists onto the same stage and beginning not with individual statements, but with a shared one—voices overlapping in a song long treated as a kind of informal company anthem. That choice set the emotional coordinates for the night. Rather than spotlighting who had arrived most recently or who currently commanded the biggest numbers, it emphasized collective memory and shared inheritance, reinforcing the idea that this stage belongs to everyone standing on it, regardless of era or status.
Certain song choices carried an unmistakable sense of transition, echoing themes of distance, hope, and perseverance that have become inseparable from the company’s recent history. These were not performances designed to dominate the timeline the next morning, but ones that lingered—gestures toward legacy rather than instant virality. Brief appearances by senior figures reinforced that same message. Their presence was fleeting, almost understated, but it anchored the event in a lineage that many fans have grown up alongside. The effect was not an indulgence in nostalgia alone, but a quiet reassurance that the past had not been discarded.
At the same time, the concert did not avoid looking forward. The concept of “MOVE” ran quietly beneath the structure of the night, expressed through unconventional pairings, theatrical callbacks, and an emphasis on interaction over hierarchy. The direction leaned toward experimentation, and while that ambition did not always land cleanly, it reflected a desire to redefine what a countdown under STARTO could be, rather than simply recreating what it once was.
For some, this approach felt refreshing and purposeful. For others, it introduced moments of uncertainty—pacing that wavered, choices that felt unclear, a sense that the emotional framing sometimes outweighed the urgency traditionally associated with New Year’s Eve. But that uncertainty, too, felt inseparable from the idea of starting to move: motion that does not always read as clean progress, yet remains motion all the same.
Technical issues with the livestream further complicated reception. Early instability disrupted immersion and sharpened criticism, particularly among overseas viewers who had waited years for an official, real‑time way to participate. Yet even this frustration revealed something telling. The disappointment did not stem from apathy, but from expectation. Fans wanted this revival to succeed. They wanted it to feel seamless, definitive, worthy of its return. That level of scrutiny is inseparable from long‑term investment.
What emerged in the aftermath was not a simple split between praise and criticism, but a far more layered response. Many discussions acknowledged flaws openly while still circling back to gratitude. The mere existence of a shared countdown again carried emotional value. Complaints coexisted with relief. Critique existed alongside affection. In that sense, the reaction itself mirrored STARTO’s identity: passionate, demanding, deeply attached.
Seen through that lens, COUNTDOWN CONCERT 2025-2026 STARTO to MOVE succeeded in the most essential way.
That spirit was perhaps most clearly distilled in moments that had little to do with music at all. The annual year‑animal segment—playful, deliberately unserious, and proudly out of step with any notion of polished performance—returned as a reminder that STARTO’s idea of entertainment has always extended beyond the stage.
Watching artists of different ages and backgrounds throw themselves into a simple, almost childlike race was not about spectacle or competition, but about permission: permission to be seen as human, to laugh at oneself, to share the same space without hierarchy. These moments, often immortalized in official photos, speak to a tradition that values warmth and familiarity over refinement. They underline that COUNTDOWN is not only a concert, but a gathering—one where music, variety, and shared humor coexist, and where generations connect through something as small as a joke carried from one year to the next.
The weight of that success is inseparable from what COUNTDOWN has historically meant. Since the late 1990s, the year-end concert has functioned as a shared heartbeat for the agency and its fans—a ritual that carried people across eras, scandals, graduations, and personal milestones. It was never just a stage show, but a place where boundaries softened: where senpai and kouhai stood shoulder to shoulder, where unexpected pairings turned into inside jokes remembered for decades, and where fans who followed only one group were briefly invited into the full constellation of the agency. Midnight at the Dome became a symbolic reset, a moment where time itself seemed to pause so everyone could step forward together.
The silence left by its absence after 2022 lingered precisely because of that role; without COUNTDOWN, many fans felt the year could not fully close. Its return, then, was not about restoring spectacle, but about restoring rhythm—a reassurance that continuity still exists, even after years shaped by uncertainty, restructuring, and distance. It re‑established a communal ritual. It reminded people that this industry, for all its shifts and rebranding, is still built on relationships that stretch across years and careers. The event did not present a flawless future, but it affirmed a continuous one.
STARTO has always emphasized family and legacy not as static ideals, but as living systems—imperfect, evolving, and sustained by those who participate in them. In that sense, COUNTDOWN has never tried to be a competition stage or a showcase designed to rank who shines the brightest. Its value lies elsewhere. It has always been closer to a family gathering than a best-of reel: noisy, occasionally chaotic, sometimes uneven, but held together by familiarity and shared history.
For those who come seeking only a single group presented in isolation, the structure can feel frustrating. But for those who look forward to shuffle medleys, fleeting interactions, and the annual reminder that these artists do not exist in silos, the messiness can feel less like a flaw and more like a familiar rhythm.
None of this invalidates disappointment or personal expectations—those feelings are real and understandable—but it does suggest that the spirit of COUNTDOWN asks for a different kind of viewing. One rooted less in individual perfection, and more in collective presence. This countdown embodied that philosophy. It moved forward without severing ties to the past, invited criticism without losing its emotional core, and chose connection over polish. As a first step back onto the Tokyo Dome stage at year’s end, it was less a conclusion than a promise: STARTO is just beginning to move, and as long as the show goes on, they’re going to be our happiness.
Photo assets © STARTO ENTERTAINMENT. Used with permission.
FAMILY CLUB members: 3,900 yen (tax included)
General: 4,400 yen (tax included)
Repeat Broadcast Period
January 7, 2026 (WED) 22:00 (JST) 〜 January 11, 2026 (SUN) 23:59 (JST)
※No restrictions applied on frequency of viewing or schedule thereof during the repeat broadcast period.
COUNTDOWN CONCERT 2025-2026 STARTO to MOVE is also coming worldwide to Netflix on January 7 too.
But whether witnessed in person or from afar, the essence remains the same. This tradition belongs to everyone who has ever counted down with these artists, laughed at their backstage chaos, or found comfort in the unspoken affection that threads them together.
Beneath the excitement sits a tender awareness that the lineup is not a perfect one, that the agency has weathered storms, and that gathering everyone again is never something to take for granted. If anything, these shifts only deepen fans’ appreciation for what COUNTDOWN represents: continuity, connection, and a family choosing to step into the future together.
As fans wait for the archive of this year’s concert, many are turning to what already exists—a patchwork of memories and modern reimaginings that keep the tradition alive in their hearts. The “Thank you 2021 Hello 2022～” digest, now available on YouTube, has become a comforting revisit point: a vivid reminder of how dazzling an all-agency gathering can be, and how deeply fans cherish seeing groups interact, joke, and celebrate side by side.
And for those craving something more recent, “WE ARE! Let’s Get the Party STARTO!!” on Netflix offers a cinematic homage to that same spirit—an ensemble-style production that captures the agency’s evolving identity while honoring the legacy of its past traditions. They aren’t quite the same as the electric midnight thrill of COUNTDOWN, but they echo the essence beautifully: artists coming together not just to perform, but to stand as one.
Here’s to another year of STARTO magic!