Selling Acceptance: CFs as MVs

In 2014, a young woman by the name of Park Bo-Ram made her rookie debut with “Beautiful.” The title of the song certainly matches Park, who is young, fresh-face and beautiful. The song swept the top spots of many national digital singles charts, including the Gaon Chart. Here's what you may not know: before her official debut, Park lost a whopping 72lbs. This is an incredible accomplishment for anyone who has tried to slim down. But consider this: Park went from weighing 77kgs (169lbs) to her recorded weight of 44kgs (97lbs). This weight loss in itself does not raise any immediate concerns, but when placed into the context of the idol industry where already thin people are pushed to achieve even thinner bodies (often with the assistance of plastic surgery), it becomes clear that selling acceptance through the use of idols can be damaging.

Last month, Park released a new video and single by the name of “Super Body,” which is essentially a remix of her other hit, “Celepretty.” In the video, Park is seen confidently walking in a gym while everyone stares, and taking it upon herself to scout down the only person in the world to ever drink Coke while running on a treadmill. She then walks into a clothing store, and takes a pastry from a woman, gives her a magic elixir, and the woman emerges from a fitting room with a completely different body (and face). Everyone in the video is either beautiful and thin, or fat and shameful. Those that are thin are envied by others, while the only 2 non-thin people are ridiculed and receive unsolicited fitness advice, which basically consists of drinking this 1oz bottle, marching in place, and viola, becoming skinny and therefore adored—just like her!

It should be obvious by now that “Super Body” is a thinly veiled CF, or commercial film, for a “weight loss product” by CJ E&M by the name of Fat Down. This is also the same company that Park is signed to as a performer. And although this is a commercial, it does not forgive the video for it’s troubling treatment of larger bodies and its misguided message.

The whole reason for drinking “Fat Down” is in order to lose weight. But why do the people in “Super Body” want to lose weight? To be skinny and beautiful, of course. The only two larger people in this video are treated as a spectacle. They are pointed out and pointed at in order to make them feel inadequate and undesirable. Even the men that are not large watch Park with a lustful, almost creepy stare, reinforcing the idea that if you are not thin and beautiful, and do not want to lose weight, like Park, you are an outcast. But what the CF doesn’t show is the immense hard work and dedication it takes to actually achieve a healthy and fit body. It is dirty, sweaty, and sometimes even painful. The “Super Body” commercial bypasses the complete lifestyle change and commitment to healthy eating and regular exercise for a quick fix in the form of a drink because it is easy, quick, and doesn’t take effort. Idols are normally seen as virtually flawless, but the actual dedication and ugly side of keeping their thin shapes is rarely brought to light. And when they are, the miniscule portions they eat despite hectic schedules and physical training is often placed under scrutiny.

Given the popularity of plastic surgery, not just in South Korea but worldwide, it’s not surprising then that the desire to change your entire appearance to keep up with society’s ideals is this generation’s version of “Keeping Up with the Neighbours.” Advertisers have tapped into this ubiquitous lack of self-esteem and have used idols to make us wish we were them. In “Super Body,” fat-shaming is used to reiterate the image of the perfect, idealized body, and thus the perfect life. Commercials use idols as the ideal representation of who we should be to sell products for us to want to achieve these perfect lives.

Using celebrities, or in regards to Kpop, idols, to sell products is hardly revolutionary. This type of marketing, dubbed, “Lifestyle branding” arguably began after WW2 when new technology became accessible and achieving the middle-class lifestyle was all that mattered. Marketing was no longer about selling the products themselves, but about the way of life that accompanies these products. Using Park Boram, who lost a whopping 33kgs (72lbs) and became an idol, to endorse a product that is meant to speed up weight loss, not for the sake of health, but rather to fulfil the desire to be accepted, loved, and even lusted after is a natural fit.

In 2010, then super groups SNSD and 2PM collaborated on a full-length video about lifeguard training at Caribbean Bay, at the popular South Korean theme park, Everworld. The video, “CABI Song” promises a plethora of defined abs and short shorts if you visit Everworld. But “CABI” doesn’t have the same effect as “Super Body” simply because its purpose as a CF is far more hidden. Instead of selling an actual product, it promises to sell an ideal (again, with a heavy focus on physical appearance and arguably an oversexualization of lifeguard training) and has nothing to do with the actual theme park except for location.

In the year following “CABI,” in perhaps an incredibly clever marketing ploy, G-Dragon released “Gmarket Party,” a catchy song/commercial for the online marketplace Gmarket, where you can purchase the very same clothing that G-Dragon wears in the video. But the clear difference is that “Gmarket Party” is an obvious commercial, and thus feels just slightly less dirty. Like “Super Body,” there is a product being sold and there is nothing hidden about that. The list of idolized commercials continues: 2NE1, Big Bang, Amber of f(x), Beast and A Pink are just a small sampling of idol groups that have promoted everything from vespas to laptops to cell phones to clothing lines.

But there are even more music videos that are commercials, and I bet you had no idea:

Orange Caramel released “Abing abing,” an advertisement for Baskin Robbins, and Girl's Day has an entire song devoted to hair dye with “Hello Bubble.” Both these releases are well-produced songs with their own choreography and costumes. But if I hadn't been told they were commercials, I wouldn't have caught onto it. This type of advertising is much more subtle and hidden. It's more sneaky, and feels rather devious. I even doubt that SNSD's “Galaxy Supernova” is an ode to the Samsung Galaxy cellphone, but the idea is still in my head, and now with every listen, I immediately think of the popular phone brand. JYJ's immensely popular “Get Out” has been alleged to be an advertisement for yet another phone: the LG Optimus Q2. This goes far beyond logo and product dropping into music videos, into a whole other subconscious level.

Don't believe me? Here's some more examples

Dara of 2NE1's solo release, “Kiss,” is about selling beer.

f(x)'s “Chocolate Love” is for the LG Chocolate cell phone.

Even my secret guilty pleasure, Phantom, has a song about beer called “Ice.” But at least they're upfront about it.

What this all comes down to is that commercials and advertisements are a regular, inescapable part our lives, especially when we indulge in pop culture so readily. When celebrity endorsements are outright and obvious, they aren’t really so bad. Who hasn’t bought a certain brand because their favourite idol has worn it? But when commercials are so deeply ingrained into a music video that the lines between product placement and creativity are completely blurred, where does one end and the other begin? Videos like Red Velvet’s “Ice Cream Cake” are an example of this new generation of CF. It’s part music video, but the Baskin Robbin’s imagery and convenient placement of ice cream cones is downright sneaky, and frankly, ingenious. Even Baskin Robbins proudly announces that they carry red velvet-flavoured ice cream cake. This can leave the average fan feeling more like a demographic with disposable income to spend on emulating their idols, rather than an actual person who appreciates the time, energy, and creativity that goes into producing a group. Trying to live up to the standards of Park Boram’s “Super Body” by fat-shaming and internalizing the ideal of skinny being the only way to be beautiful, makes that commercial especially damaging. In this case, imitating the commercial interests of an idol is a dangerous idea and viewing should be accompanied by some sort of investigative thought.

I doubt that companies will ever stop using idols to sell products and images. This in itself is not necessarily a bad thing, nor is it restricted to Kpop. This practice is used literally world-wide, and using popular faces can introduce people to some products that they may genuinely enjoy. It becomes troubling, however, when selling idealized images comes at the expense of another person’s dignity, and promises of acceptance are always associated with unachievable standards. Hopefully the trend of using music videos as secret commercials does not last forever.


'L' lives in Ontario, Canada. She is a pop culture and media junkie and has helped organize kpop parties and events across Ontario. Her biases are BTS, Block B, M.I.B and Infinite.

Film Review: The Grim Reality of 'Nine Muses of Star Empire' is Essential Kpop Viewing

The debate over whether an idol is born or created does not hold much water in the world of Kpop. Most fans familiar with the genre’s intense idol training program would argue it is the latter. But how does one create an idol? Nine Muses of Star Empire takes us behind the scenes to witness the trials and tribulations of a Kpop girl group about to debut. Given unprecedented access to practice sessions, one-on-one interviews, and private management meetings, Director Hark Joon Lee exposes, for the first time ever, the side of Kpop that you’ve never seen before (and spoiler alert: it’s grim).

Though filmed during Nine Muses’ debut preparations in 2010, and originally released in 2012 (re-released in 2014), Nine Muses of Star Empire never feels dated. In fact, it feels more relevant than ever. Fans are well-aware of the cracks in the idol system, thanks to several recent high-profile incidents of idols complaining of slave contracts and unfair management practices. But those rumors, deleted tweets, and press releases hardly tell the whole story. Until now, what goes on behind the curtain has been off-limits. It’s that scrutiny of things previously hidden which makes Nine Muses of Star Empire a must-see for fans of Kpop.

In fact, it’s the kind of documentary that makes you wonder why Star Empire ever agreed to have the cameras around in the first place. It does not make them look good, and there is clearly no censorship or feelings spared. In one of the more telling moments of the film, the CEO and management hold a private meeting to discuss how poor Nine Muses’ live performance was, all while the women are forced to watch said performance over and over again, like children sent to their room to think about what they did wrong. The management does not seem to recognize the irony that while they bemoan the lack of confidence in the group, their future stars sit in shame in the next room, not even invited to the table. It’s not motivating stuff, but it’s likely what many face on the path to becoming Kpop idols.

The scene just described is actually fairly representative of the majority of interactions we witness throughout the film, where after performing a routine they have done countless times, Nine Muses is berated yet again by their management. Though you might expect drama, what we see is mostly tears. When Sera is stripped of her role as leader (a determination made by the management without seeking any feedback), there is no fight, no upset words, no discussion, even. There are only the tears and conciliatory hugs from a group of women who prove to have very little agency and very little control over their lives.

You can see their hopelessness as they practice the dance routine for “No Playboy” over and over, and the malaise of these women, so familiar with the song and the steps that they begin to look like mannequins, this malaise begins to seep into the viewer. Please don’t show them practice again, you might think as you watch the film, but Director Hark Joon Lee, importantly, shows it again. It is the only way for us to truly understand the depressive nature of creating an idol. Hearing that song again and again, watching as one more time Nine Muses move lethargically in front of the cold-eyed and sour-faced manager, clearly unimpressed and unhappy with what he sees; this is the daily life of the idol hopeful. Practice, as they say, makes perfect.

Ideally, this is the moment where we would turn this review on its head and tell you about all the positive things you’ll see in the film, about all the times you’ll laugh and enjoy getting to know these nine young women. Unfortunately, it’s not that kind of movie, and this isn’t that kind of review. The best we can do is recall an early moment when the camera invites Eunji to describe each member of Nine Muses by what her role would be in a high school setting. It’s a rare moment in the film, both for its lightheartedness and for its setting (one of the only times the cameras leave the Star Empire studio). Unfortunately, the film does not broaden its scope at any time. The director does coax some very raw emotion out of the women of Nine Muses, but we would have liked to see a few interviews with other people connected to the group: family, friends, industry experts, etc. Extending the reach of the film could have also provided another storyline, possibly even a happier one.

Though we’ve painted a grim picture of the experience of Nine Muses, it would be wrong to suggest this is completely Star Empire’s fault. Although Star Empire received a lot of bad press in 2014 over the brewing, but never quite boiling, issue with ZE:A leader Moon Jun-Young (stage name, Lee Hoo), this same company also managed the longest running Kpop girl group, Jewelry, for almost fifteen years (until their recent disbandment). With the focus of this documentary being so narrow, it would be easy to frame Star Empire as an evil corporation, but that would also be misguided. The management of Nine Muses is frequently heard suggesting both to themselves and to the women of Nine Muses that training would be much harder at other companies. Whether or not that is true, the perception highlights the systemic mistreatment of idols across entertainment labels. Attacking Star Empire for trying to keep up with the harsh conditions perpetuated by the rest of Kpop would be a trivial pursuit. But it should come as no surprise that when Director Hark Joon Lee revisits Nine Muses to conduct a follow-up interview, three of the members have already left.

We rate Nine Muses of Star Empire as a must-watch film, not because it will put a smile on your face, but because it will make you uncomfortable. Kpop is full of flash and fireworks, but rarely do we look at the blood, sweat, and tears that go into making it. The grim story this film tells is an important one.

You can watch Nine Muses of Star Empire on Hulu (link) or Vimeo (link).

This Week in Kpop: May 31-June 6, 2015

New releases from Big Bang and Exo. Both in the same week. Yes, you've died and gone to heaven. And heaven is This Week in Kpop! Let's get started!

Big Bang's "Bang Bang Bang" and "We Like 2 Party"

Big Bang's incredible year continues with not just one, but two candidates for song of the summer. Maybe the Songs of the Summer? "Bang Bang Bang" took us a minute to get beyond some rapid transitions. Now we can appreciate it for the dance floor masterpiece that it is. And can't you just picture "We Like 2 Party" in a stadium concert, fans singing along, cheering through their tears (of happiness)? This song seems like it was designed for just that occasion. 

Is there any doubt that 2015 belongs to Big Bang? Every release is a gift. Every live performance a miracle. Already the releases have an aura of mythology behind them - with stories of Big Bang being at least mildly intoxicated during the filming of "We Like 2 Party" filling our Twitter feeds. We're loving it. There will certainly never be another Big Bang, and there probably will never be a release schedule as ambitious as we've gotten from them this year. It's almost bad business (except with Big Bang, everything is good business) and has likely tied up the rest of YG until October (AKMU). And, honestly, can all their upcoming songs really keep topping each other? Really? 

Forget all that. You'll be telling your kids about Big Bang's 2015 years from now, when Big Bang is making their latest comeback on the Moon. 

Exo's "Love Me Right" 

Not to be outdone, Exo returned this week with a repackaged album, Love Me Right, featuring four new songs for the Exo-L faithful. The promotional single, "Love Me Right," has our guys playing (American) football, mixing chemicals, and smashing stuff. It's a jazzy song with a Michael Jackson feel during the verses that's sure to get you moving. We can't help but notice Tao's absence, but we're trying to think positively. Any Exo release is good news, right? We're still waiting to see how Exo does going head-to-head against BIGBANG for the first time!

Critical Kpop Podcast: Episode Three - Rise of the Boyband! 

Bang Bang Bang! Big Bang isn't the only Boyband that's dominating Kpop as of late! And Exo isn't the only competition! Here's our look at the rise of the boybands, in the only Kpop podcast that asks you to LISTEN HARDER. 

An Honest Attempt to Define the Genre of Kpop

Here's an easy question: What exactly is Kpop? Think about it for a minute. We know how easy it is to simply answer with: Korean. Pop. But take another minute, or maybe five, to read our examination of this very question! And then get back to us with a straight answer!

How to Revamp Kara for their Next Comeback (You're Welcome, DSP)

So, Kara's back. And, "Cupid?" Not a bad song. But we think that Kara's about due for a change. Take a look at how we'd go about that right here! 

May 31-June 6, 2015 

And that was This Week in Kpop! Can you believe we've gotten new releases from both Big Bang and Exo in the same week? We don't deserve such good fortune, ever. Throw us a strong girl group release and 2015 will be an amazing year! Maybe we'll get one next week? We shall see. Until then, have fun and be safe! 

Biodata dan fakta terbaru CLC

Hello...

Setelah sekian lama tidak memposting berita, akhirnya sekarang aku mau postingan tentang biodata group baru dari Cube entertainment. CLC adalah singkatan dari Crystal Clear yang berarti bahwa grup yang akan terus bersinar terang seperti crystal dan akan terus menunjukkan pesona mereka. CLC adalah adik dari 4Minute, Beast, Btob, Rain dan Roh Jihoon. CLC memiliki member yang masih muda berbakat dan bertalenta. Salah satu membernya berasal dari Thailand yaito sorn. Rata-rata member CLC mampu menguasai bahasa Inggris meskipun tidak semua dengan bagus, paling tidak salah satu membernya jago bhs inggris yaitu sorn. CLC debut pada 19 maret 2015 dengan album bertajuk First love dan PEPE ,menjadi single utama mereka. Konsep dasar dari CLC sepertinya cute dan mengarah ke arah seksi kharisma seperti kakak senior mereka 4Minute. Grup ini juga memiliki energik lagu yang kuat diikuti oleh dance yang energik, sehingga menjadi daya tarik grup ini sehingga kelihatan lebih fresh.  CLC mulai mengamen di jalanan untuk mengumpulkam dana untuk pada yatim piatu sejak 11 september 2014.

Berikut biodata member CLC satu per satu :

1.    SEUNGHEE

Full name : Oh SeungHee

Tanggal lahir : 10 Oktober 1995

Berat : 49

Tinggi : 163

Posisi : Lead Vocal-1

Fact :

Dia adalah member tertua dan menjadi leader dari CLC. Dia pernah berkolaborasi dengan Yoseob dengan lagu parfume bersama dengan rekannya seungyeon. Dia memiliki suara yang sangat bagus dan dia sekalian menjadi lead vocal pertama di ClC. Dia sangat ahli bermain piano. Dia memiliki bakat menulis dan memproduksi lagu sendiri. Dia juga pernah menjadi model di beberapa MV nya BTOB.  Pemenang dari final "1st Cube Star Audition" di Gwangju/Jeollanam

2.   Yu jin

Full Name : Choi Yu Jin

Tanggal lahir : 12 agustus 1996

Tinggi : 164 cm

Berat : 42 kg

Gol. Darah : A

Posisi : sub Vocal, lead dancer-2

Fact :

Dia adalah salah satu member yang pandai dance bersama dengan seungyeon. Dia bisa memainkan harmonika. Dia adalah member clc yang memiliki waktu paling lama masa trainee. Dia memiliki badan yang sangat kurus dan ramping. Dia juga sebagai Visual di clc.

3.   SEUNGYEON

Full name :  chang Seung Yeon

Tanggal lahir : 6 November 1996

Tinggi : 163 cm

Berat : 46 kg

Gol. Darah : A

Posisi : Lead vocal-2, lead dancer-1

Fact:

Dia pernah berkolaborasi dengan Yoseob “parfum”.  Dia bisa memainkan gitar. Dia juga sebabai vocal dan dancer utama di grup clc. Karena dia memiliki suara yang bagus yang kuat dan berenegik, begitu juga dengan tarianya, sangat berbeda dan menarik perhatian. Dia juga memiliki paras wajah yang cantik, sehingga dia dipilih sebagai face of grup.

4.   SORN

Full name :Chonnasorn Sajakul

Tanggal lahir : 18 november 1996

Tinggi : 164 cm

Berat : 48 kg

Gol. Darah : A

Fact :

Dia adalah salah satu member yang paling berbakat. Dia berasal dari Thailand. Sebelum bergabung di cube, dia adalah pemenang dari acara audisi global milik TVN yaitu Kpop Star Hunt Season 1 (2011-2012). Dia bisa memainkan gitar. Dia juga mampu menguasai bahasa Inggris dengan baik dan lancar, mulai dari pronounciation, vocabularies dan grammer bahkan lebih bagus dari bahasa korea, bahasa yang sering dipakai dalam sehari harinya di korea. Dia juga memiliki suara yang bagus dan energik.

5.   YEE EUN

Full name : Jang Yee Eun

Tangal lahir : 10 agustus 1998

Tinggi : 166 cm

Berat : 49 kg

Gol. Darah : B

Fact:

Dia memiliki masa tranee selama 2 tahun, dia adalah kidal. Dia juga mampu menguasai bahasa inggris dan mandarin, sama halnya dengan sorn dengan baik. Dia bisa memainkan perkusi. Dia adalah maknae di CLC dia juga adalah rapper di sini.

Critical Kpop Podcast - Episode 3 - Rise of the Boyband!

In the third episode of the Critical Kpop Podcast, Zander, 'L,' and Tim take on the boyband! We talk debuts with Monsta X and Seventeen (whose debut was better?). And we talk kings of Kpop with BIGBANG and Exo (who will dominate the charts?). Tune in for all this and more!

Critical Kpop Podcast - Episode 3 by Critical Kpop on Mixcloud

You can subscribe to the Critical Kpop Podcast on iTunes, or check this and future episodes out at www.mixcloud.com/CriticalKpop. You can expect a healthy serving of news, reviews, and critical analysis in every episode. The Critical Kpop Podcast is the only podcast that invites you to LISTEN HARDER.

How to Revamp Kara for their Next Comeback (You're Welcome, DSP)

As you must know, Kara just released their seventh mini-album, In Love, and is currently promoting their single, "Cupid." And, overall, this is an inoffensive, middling release that doesn't tarnish the Kara legacy as much as bore us to tears. If this were a review, and believe us, nothing would bore us more than to review this album, we'd give this, while yawning, a:

for boring. 

To be fair, the protection of the legacy is paramount to Kara's continued existence. Goo Hara has repeatedly told fans (in her reality show, no less) how "We wanted to protect Kara," as if they were being besieged from all sides.

And that perception within the group and DSP seems to be an essential problem (as we see it, but hear us out). Kara is playing defense in an industry that demands offense. "Cupid" isn't even a bad song - it's a lesser "Mamma Mia," which is safe, and may appeal to the die-hard fans who are seeking more Jpop-infused-electronica. But if Kara wants to reclaim their top-tier status? They may have to punch instead of block. They may need to tackle instead of...block. We were never big sports fans, but basically we're saying that Kara needs to kick some ass again.

The 4Minute Treatment

Yes, we know that there are few groups as different on the Kpop spectrum as Kara and 4Minute, in attitude or aesthetics, but Kara can learn a thing or two from 4Minute's revitalizing "Crazy" comeback. 4Minute didn't have a horrendous 2014, but were definitely in a funk by the time they got to "Whatcha Doing Today?" where they seemingly exhausted the quirky-mayhem-vibe they were riding high with since "What's Your Name?"

4Minute came back with a vengeance, with a snarl on their faces - even their choreography was electrified. They didn't just seem re-energized by this dramatic shift in attitude, they looked liberated, as if the quirkiness were more debilitating then freeing. Still, even with this shift, this release was decidedly 4Minute, just 4Minute distilled and humming. This release also had something that was missing from those previous: Urgency. Passion. Whatever you want to call: The Need to Slay.

Kara seems like they're in the same place as 4Minute was circa 2014, riding (not quite as) high with their signature Kara sound, but feeling flat and bored, caught in a musical malaise. Getting the 4Minute treatment wouldn't necessarily mean Kara would have success becoming a brash, angry, fist-pumping girl group (though we'd love to see that). What's needed here is not a complete overhaul, but a reinvention. But how can Kara get Kpop fans excited again? We're glad you asked, friend!

Remind Fans of Who They Are!

Sometimes as Kpop fans, we take for granted that everyone else must know as much as we do about Kpop. But Kara has been around for eight years now, and even long-standing groups need to remind us why we fell in love with them in the first place. The wonderful thing about Kara is that, even with the members that have left, they have such wonderful, larger-than-life personalities remaining.

Park Gyuri is a quintessential diva - Kpop royalty, and she loves playing with that arrogance and image on variety shows. Why not show more of that inner-diva in these comebacks?

Han Seungyeon is incredibly hard working and strives to be a consummate professional (and she's saved and invested enough to be rich!). She also has a killer voice that could be bringing us to tears.

Goo Hara? Goo Hara is a cover girl, but she's also a stunning dancer that should be given more room to shine and a killer solo release to boot (fingers crossed on that one).

Youngji is energetic and eager to please and may be the only member that seems excited to be in Kara anymore.

There's more to each member, but surely we can see more of their personalities come through with their songs and music videos.

Right now, we're not seeing those personalities in these releases. Kara is being as generic as their songs. But Kara is special, aren't they?

Why is Kara Special? 

That's not for me to answer, but for Kara to show us! I believe that at their prime Kara was one of the best girl groups ever! Just look at some of their greats!

Step!

Mr! 

Lupin!

Even Pandora!

Kara, at their best, was exciting, pure, unadulterated, unapologetic pop. Kara had a reason to exist back then. They have a reason to exist now too. We just need to be reminded what that reason is.


Timothy Moore writes from Chicago. He blogs at Read My Blog Please, and edits at Ghost Ocean Magazine. His biases are T-ara, Block B, Nine Muses, Brown Eyed Girls, and Girl's Day.

An Honest Attempt to Define the Genre of Kpop

As Kpop grows in popularity, millions of potential new fans begin to ask the question, “What is Kpop?” The most common answer they receive, of course, is that it’s “Korean pop,” before they are shown a slew of their friends favorite videos. And while this may prove entertaining, it does not adequately answer the question they have asked. Kpop is more than a racial distinction, it is a genre. If the only way we can describe the genre of Kpop is through forcing someone to listen to every piece of music with that label, we have fundamentally failed to categorize our interest. In all the years I have been a Kpop fan, I have yet to see someone give an accurate definition of what Kpop actually is. This is an honest attempt to do so, and I welcome all feedback!

First and foremost, Kpop is pop music, making its definition both eclectic and somewhat self-referential. Pop music is whatever music is popular in the general culture. That means there is a certain amount of latitude when it comes to the "sound" of Kpop, because what is popular changes over time. It should be noted that Kpop would refer to what is popular in Korea (not in America and not in Hungary). So, for example, the early days of Kpop would have a heavy trot influence, whereas current Kpop does not.

Although it is important for the definition of Kpop to distinguish what is popular in Korea from what is popular in America, it is currently a trend for Korean music to borrow heavily from America. This has the effect of blurring the lines between Kpop and American pop, though not completely. Just as it is easy to distinguish a native speaker of a language from someone who has taken classes, Kpop borrows from America but it does not duplicate. There are certain styles and structures more commonly appropriated (for example, rap), and others which are largely ignored (for example, country). Note that both examples are of genres not classically considered "pop," but which often intersect with American pop. For this reason, it is easy for Kpop to either borrow or ignore. What can't be ignored is the main driving force behind American pop music, the song structure.

Kpop relies heavily upon the verse-chorus-bridge structure, common in American pop (specifically, verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus). It is so common as to be near ubiquitous. This structure works especially well for pop music, allowing for a mix of both new information with the verses and a repeated chorus, or “hook,” possibly the most important part of any pop song. It is common for either the bridge or one of the verses to be rapped, either by a member of the group or by a featured artist. Songs are short to medium in length, and easily incorporate other styles.

As a basic definition, this is a good start, but this does not move us far past describing Kpop as “Korean pop.” There are several other elements which can help to classify all Kpop music.

For example, Kpop eschews live instrumentation. The typical Kpop song is composed on a computer, using electronic instruments and drum kits. Although this practice is common among many genres, Kpop extends its avoidance of live instrumentation into live performances as well. The focus, instead, is on image and dance. This heavy visual component also overshadows, to some degree, vocal performance. This is not to say that Kpop singers are lacking in ability, but that during live performances they tend to prioritize the spectacle of dance over vocals, with much choreography being too strenuous for a serious vocal showcase.

Kpop is also synonymous with the creation and adoration of idols. Yes, one could argue that any pop star becomes an idol by virtue of being popular, but with the term Kpop we are referring to a very specific system that trials, trains, and governs the men and women who become idols. Because of the specific focus we insinuate with the term Kpop, Redditor u/leopetri recommends that we use the Korean word, "gayo," to refer to idol-oriented Korean pop music. Since "Kpop" can be confused for all general Korean music that is popular, some of which is not produced by idols, this suggestion makes logical sense. However, for the admittedly few fans and critics of Korean music that bother to point out a distinction between idol- and non-idol-produced music, the majority use "Kpop" to refer to idol-produced music and use genre terms preceded by a prefix of "K" for the rest (e.g. Krock, Khiphop, K-indie, etc.). But are these alternative names really needed? Can't we just keep on calling everything Kpop? Redditor u/finchyjjigae notes that incorrectly labeling artists as "pop artists" can be both detrimental and insulting to the artist. It stands to reason that if an artist claims he or she creates rock music, for example, then "Krock" would be a much more appropriate and respectful term to employ.

As most Kpop fans are familiar with the idol system, this article will not go into great detail regarding the dynamics of how Korean entertainment companies function. Rather, the goal is to point out some of the more important ways in which the idol system affects the genre of Kpop.

First, it is nearly impossible for an ordinary person to become a Kpop star without first navigating through the trainee system. The Kpop music industry is heavily controlled by a few major companies that use their weight and resources to promote the would-be idols that have come through their internal training programs. There isn’t any chance for a few high school buddies jamming in someone’s garage to hit it big. Although there are indie and garage-rock scenes in Korea, they receive little attention from the Kpop world. There have been a few exceptions, mostly when an indie group or artist has appeared on a reality talent show (e.g. Busker Busker), thereby garnering enough attention to be picked up by one of the major labels. But this sort of “fairy-tale” approach is not the norm. How does this affect the genre?

The Kpop idol system expends a large amount of energy on training future stars, with trainees often spending between two and eight years before debuting. This results in even “rookie” groups displaying a high level of skill, belying their youth, but also a very consistent (maybe even boringly so) level of skill. The skills which the trainees are taught depends heavily on the previously mentioned focus on image, dance, and vocals (often in that order). So while we can predict the next batch of idols to be attractive, slick dancers, and decent-to-good vocalists, their skills in playing instruments, composing, or writing lyrics (things typically associated with creating music) are likely to be rudimentary or non-existent.

The idol system also affects the style and type of music which is released. The large majority of idols have a team of managers and producers who select which songs they release, and who choose what concept the idols will embody during the course of their promotion. There is very little freedom of expression for Kpop idols. We often use words like “factory” and “manufactured” to describe this system, words with a negative connotation. But perhaps a better metaphor would be that of a well-oiled machine. Kpop labels have become expert at releasing hit song after hit song. Expecting wild creativity out of Kpop may leave you disappointed, but expecting quality releases every time will not.

The lack of common creativity also means that any new direction in Kpop comes as a great leap, with each label jumping on the evolutionary bandwagon. As the labels copy the popular new sound of one innovator, this results in months or even years that can be defined by a single trend or style. We are likely to see phases such as “throwback to the ‘90s” or “dubstep dance breaks,” phases that last until a new trend is adopted.

Of course, there are some exceptions to the lack of individual expression in Kpop. Certain labels allow for a greater degree of input from their idols. We see this more often with solo idols, or with a single idol in a larger group, always dependent on that individual’s strength. As well as injecting more personality into the music, Kpop labels understand that they can market their idols’ strengths. In this way, for example, Zico of Block B, a young idol that showed a talent for producing, became talismanic of the group. With each credit Seven Seasons gave to Zico for producing Block B’s next hit song, they effectively marketed the group twice: once as performers, and once as creators. But again, this is only possible where talent allows. (As noted in the comments below by @mountaincow1, utilizing the unique talents of individual members is quickly becoming a trend among major groups, a trend that we will likely see continue in the future.)

One of the more difficult parts of understanding Kpop as a genre is how to include language in that definition. Because I am attempting to define this as a musical genre, I would ignore ethnicity or nationality as an indicator. (Yes, Kpop is overwhelmingly created by Koreans, but there are notable exceptions, such as Nichkhun and the many Chinese stars in groups such as Miss A, f(x), and Exo. Quite frankly, using race in our definition would be to suggest that any music created by a Korean would become Kpop by default, which is categorically wrong.) Language, however, is a notable characteristic of music, and the genre of Kpop can be described by its use of language.

A very large portion of Kpop music is sung in Korean, but it is not a requisite. The most common use of language in Kpop is for the verses to be sung mostly in Korean and for the chorus to contain very simple English. Although this blending might sound odd, there is a long history of using simple-English choruses in electronic music, especially in the genres popularized in Europe. The idea is that by creating a strong hook with lyrics that an international audience can understand (thus the need for simple English), the song will expand exponentially in popularity, spreading across linguistic borders. A portion of Kpop's success outside of Korea can be attributed to this use of simple-English choruses.

But Kpop has also shown a willingness to abandon Korean language in favor of the language of its fans. A group like Exo (which was originally composed of two sub-units, one for Korean language and one for Mandarin) is an excellent example of the international focus of the genre. Exo has consistently released their music in both Korean and Mandarin (without significantly changing the instrumentation), thereby gaining them a devoted Chinese fanbase on top of their already heavy Korean following. The ease with which Exo translates their music into another language is a good example of why language can be descriptive of Kpop, but cannot adequately define it. When Spica released an all-English single, "I Did It," the group did not identify a desire to cross over to American pop music, but, rather, wanted to engage with their American fans. As can be seen in these two examples, language does not define Kpop as a genre, but rather suggests which audience is being targeted (needless to say, the target audience does not define Kpop either). Kpop, as a genre, extends much further than the Korean language.

Finally, an important note. There will always be exceptions. Rather than relying on the old cliche, that the exception proves the rule, I would instead suggest that exceptions evidence potential shifts in the taste of popular Korean culture. Those shifts could be minor and temporary, or they could signal a radically new kind of pop music. Kpop is not static. It never will be. However, having a basic understanding of how the Kpop genre is defined is vital to our ability to listen to it critically, to talk about it intelligently, and to enjoy it wholeheartedly.

Is there something that you think I missed? Let me know in the comments!

[Editor's Note: I've determined to update this article to add some of the many thoughtful and incisive comments that have been shared with me. Since we're talking about popular music, it only seems fitting to allow for a more "popular" conception of how to define the genre. I will do my best to give credit for any ideas not my own.]


Zander Stachniak is a southern-born, Chicago-based writer who first discovered Kpop through ShoutCast Radio. His biases are f(x) and Block B.