Other Voices, Other Rooms: K-Pop Corner
On changing, becoming, and 3 certified bubblegum earworms
For our next guest piece, we have K-Pop scholar (and longtime mutual across three platforms and IRL) Justin Nava writing about three of the best K-Pop (and K-Indie, as I’m sure he’d clarify) songs of the past five years—none of which I probably would have heard if not for him—dovetailing personal stories with drive-by history lessons on the genre and the groups that define it.
(And in case you were doubting his bonafides, here’s his top 100 K-Pop songs of the decade so far.)
Continuing the trend of thematically resonant song groupings, tomorrow we’ve got two from me, both of which deal with, in their own ways, the molecular experience of isolation. We’ve also got three more guest pieces coming next week, so subscribe now if you don’t want to miss any of them.
Here’s the full playlist of the 100 Best Songs of the 2020s (So Far).
In case you missed any of our prior newsletters for this series so far:
Top 10 (all by me): “TLC Cagematch” / “Casual” | “American Teenager” / “People, I’ve been sad” | “Silk Chiffon” / “anything” | “Hard Drive” / “Somewhere Near Marseilles” | “It’s Not Just Me, It’s Everybody” / “Welcome to My Island”
Guests: “Starburned and Unkissed” by Gian Balangue | 3 K-Pop Songs by Justin Nava | “Huwag Muna Tayong Umuwi” / “The Loneliest Time” by Emil Hofileña | “My Love Mine All Mine” by Ashley Ranich | “Billions” by Niki Colet | “party 4 u” / “Will Anybody Ever Love Me?” by Currie McKinley
NewJeans - “Super Shy”
At my old high school, we had a chapel named the Five Loaves. It was named after a biblical passage in which Jesus feeds a crowd of over five thousand with just five loaves of bread and two fish. This is one of His thirty-seven miracles, that range from transmogrification at a wedding to opening the eyes of the blind. A party trick may not have that much in common with playing doctor, but all biblical miracles are characterized by turning what once was into what once wasn’t. Transformation was a symptom of divine providence.
I’d come face to face with my own transformation when I was fourteen, when my best friend showed my friend group and I the music video for Girls Generation’s “Hoot” just outside another chapel we had on campus. We were hooked. We soon spent our days bonding over our shared love for the group. We watched every performance and video they’d release in the years to come. Eventually, we branched out to discover other acts in the genre. My best friend was certainly no Jesus, but it was through his actions that I had been totally changed. I plunged headfirst into the waters of K-pop, baptising myself as a fan.
I colored in my 2010s high school experience with pretty Korean twentysomethings. I opted for Korean cotton candy, monster truck music, and whatever came in between, forgoing the fashionable emo pop punk of the time. I’m still here, and I will probably still be here long after my days of being a pretty twentysomething myself.
As a veteran fan of the genre—and I do mean veteran in that I’ve been in the trenches of fan-war and scandal—it’s hard not to feel nostalgic for days gone by. From eclectic genre-hopper “I Got a Boy” to Punjabi-folk-interpolating Italo disco track “Catallena”, I’ve seen groups take inspiration from wherever the hell they could. Every new release seemed a revelation. Miracles were the norm.
And since then, we’ve continued to have many years of manna from heaven gracing the genre. The fish and loaves of many 4th- and 5th-gen groups have kept us well-fed, but few acts have felt like true rain in the desert like Newjeans. The girls made walk-on-water waves with an impressive surprise debut, achieving massive domestic and global success almost overnight. They terraformed the musical landscape with their brazen girlish Y2K aesthetic, as well as their electronic-R&B inspired sound, going on to release megahits like “Hype Boy” and “OMG.”
Of their hits, “Super Shy,” their first single off their sophomore EP, epitomizes their character. Its dreamy production seamlessly blends synthesizers and staccato drums, creating a rich and vibrant track that reflects both apprehension and excitement. The production uncovers raw emotion, with every kick beat like its own beating heart, every beat switch jumping between doubtful questions (You don’t even know my name / Do you?), confident declarations (Wait a minute / While I make you mine), and candid confessions of (You’re on my mind all the time / I wanna tell you / But I’m super shy). It’s the hush-hush flush and rush of having a crush, torrid emotion so tightly bottled up it can only come out in whispers. There are feelings that cannot be left unexpressed. There are words that cannot be left unspoken.
I’ve been a fan of K-pop for almost fifteen years. I have hundreds of words to describe what it is to me, what it does and what it makes me feel. In small talk, it’s been my main interest. On my Spotify Wrapped, it has been my musical preference. On my expenses tracker, it has been my financial burden. It has been my defining characteristic, my main inspiration, my best friend, my worst enemy.
All in all, it’s been a miracle.
NAYEON - “POP!”
The old saying goes, “The only thing constant is change”. From cosmopolitan gentrification, to friends coming and going, to KFC suddenly sucking, that is certainly true, but I’d argue change isn’t the only thing that’s constant. It should go: The only things constant are change and straight Filipino boys’ fascination with short chinita girls.
Jokes aside, I’ve yet to have an era of my life in which this was false. Straight guys love big shoes, basketball, big basketball shoes, and playing basketball in big basketball shoes. They also love the girls in TWICE.
Back in 2017, both of these constants played out with TWICE getting dubbed the Nation’s Girl Group, ending Girls’ Generation’s reign. There isn’t technically a national vote for this, but I’m sure the straight male population of my college alone would have caused a landslide victory. Hallways were decorated with the sound of TWICE’s music and dudes dancing to “TT” between classes. Phone backgrounds were transformed to shrines of Jihyo and Sana. Jeongyeon’s skateboard look in the “Likey” music video has since become a collective core memory.
It’s not hard to see the appeal of an act like TWICE. They’ve been cheerleaders, haunted house attractions, movie stars, prom queens, scientists, and sober. They’ve also consistently churned out some of the genre’s most iconic earworms, from peppy pop staple “Cheer Up” to eclectic electro banger “Fancy.” The group’s aesthetic and music have evolved from bubblegum to glitter, from light pink to rose gold. Their group image has been imprinted into our global psyche, so it was hard to ever imagine them apart.
In 2022, we no longer had to imagine, as the group forayed into K-pop’s favorite constant change: A solo debut. One thing that didn’t change, thankfully, was that the song was a bona fide hit.
Nayeon’s “POP!” was a departure from early-days TWICE’s typical girlish game, forgoing coy confessions for daring declarations. The song soars from high to high, each confident lyric dancing on top of its bright interspersion of horns and guitar. It is a track that leaves no frills about its feelings, only leaving an addictive pop-pop-pop post-chorus for us to catch our breath. It is brash yet simple, all the urgency and honesty of big feelings in a small track that’s just under three minutes. It is the romcom grand gesture, the softness of say yes in the loudness of a beating heart.
The old saying goes, “The only thing constant is change”, but another constant we ought to remember is that we can change things. Sometimes change is out of our control, like cosmopolitan gentrification, or friends coming and going, or KFC suddenly sucking. But sometimes change is us having big feelings and doing something about it. Sometimes it is getting your first pair of Jordans, or decorating the hallways with music, or giving someone a landslide of affection. So Nayeon goes: I gotta pop it, I can’t stop it.
CHEEZE - “LOSER”
I’m almost 30. Not in the way I think I should be by now, but I am almost 30.
When I was a kid I wanted to be a chef. A little older and I wanted to be an artist. Just a bit older than that I just wanted to get through the day. I’ve accomplished that last dream thousands of times on end, but rarely has it ever felt the right way. I am not my friends who have gotten married, or my friends who have condos and houses, moving abroad, pursuing masters degrees, passing the bar, or living their lives. I’m almost 30. I am just almost 30.
Growing up we learn that “just me” is the definition of alone. Growing up I’ve learned that “just me” is the definition of lonely. I know by virtue of time I’ll get to 30. I just don’t know if I’ll have become it.
I am quiet. Since the world shut down when I was 23, I have become awkward. Sometimes, I am loud, perhaps because I have to prove to myself I’m not invisible. I want to be seen. I want to see myself.
Sometimes I do, in the mirror after I shower. I toss my hair, see the reflection, and know I am there. Sometimes I do, on TV when boys are sad and get to cry it out. I cry too, and I know I am there. Sometimes I do, when a song says I’m a loser. I’m a loser, too, and I know I am there.
CHEEZE’s “LOSER” is a bit of an oddball. It is a candid introspection, wondering how the self can be so bizarre. Questions of how do you think? and you know what I mean? punctuate verses, a whirlwind of a diary entry. There are always questions but there is never an answer. Even as the song switches from confusion to excitement in the bridge, turning I still don’t know myself into I can be anything, it is not an answer. It is anticipation, the beauty in the becoming. The song’s whimsical production reveals a childlike optimism in weirdness, the celebration of an in-between sense of self. It wears its title not as an insult, but as a badge.
When put that way, maybe I am a loser. I guess that isn’t all bad. I am not my friends who have gotten married, or my friends who have condos and houses, moving abroad, pursuing masters degrees, passing the bar, or living their lives. I know I am just me, but that doesn’t mean I am just me. I have my friends who get me. I have art that gets me. I even have CHEEZE who gets me.
I’m almost 30. I’m just almost 30.
Justin is a graphic designer, film enthusiast, and total moron. He’s also currently a wannabe reader, writer, and journaler. He’s into K-pop, Pokémon, cartoons, and many other things that might be the answer of a 7-year old when asked the question “what do you like?” When he’s not on Photoshop for work, he’s probably asleep in front of his laptop that has Photoshop open.
Letterboxd: @tinarchv
IG: @navadsgn