Like with the American pop charts, numerous acts don’t chart well on the Korean pop charts. Maybe the group stays together to produce a few low-ranking groups, break up, and fade to obscurity. Groups like this might be remembered when a radio DJ decides to play it on a whim or maybe a situation or meeting an old friend makes the song come to mind. Other groups may have a low charting single, but by luck garner some attention for some reason. Maybe it’s a slow but steady influx of new fans. Perhaps it’s the work of a new promotional team. But in the case of the Korean group Exceed in Dreaming, better known as EXID, a viral, fan-made performance video of the group’s follow-up song “Up & Down,” helped the song become one of the biggest hits of the year and cemented the groups as a top girl group in South Korea.
DON’T EASILY SPEAK OF ME TO OTHERS. DON’T EVEN SAY HOW I WAS. Like “good 4 u,” “Whoz That Girl” is a break-up song dripping in sarcasm. Even if the listener doesn’t speak Korean, they can hear the anger and pretty much guess the meaning of the song. It’s a song about erasing someone from your life. The video shows the girl group intimidating the actor playing the role of the boyfriend in the style of girl group badass-ery. While the lyrics of the song imply everything’s fine, the delivery and the music video show that subtext is everything. The 2012 hit picked up more streaming and radio play in Korea after their song “Up & Down” became a hit in 2014. So in 2014, “Whoz That Girl” could be heard along side other K-pop songs, like at grocery stores, gyms, or even some cafes. When the song came on at the bakery Allan and Philip were getting breakfast at on their healing trip, Philip had had just enough caffeine to make him start dancing to the track and mouthing the words. Allan jolted out of his melancholy morning stupor he had previously excused as a lack of caffeine and crack a smile and shook his friend at his friend. “Don’t spill your macchiato,” Allan snorted. “Dude, I’m just trying to cheer you up,” Philip said losing breath. “Everything is really serious, but not that bad. We’re on vacation, not in Seoul or Chungju. Live a little.” He broke into song, “Who’s that girl? Tell me who’s that girl?”–he stopped– “No, serious A.J., you’ve gotta tell me about that psycho student of yours. How did it happen?”
SO SHOW HER TO ME. SURPRISE ME. “Well, you met her at the gala on Saturday night. She was the student MC, been involved with everything at the institute these days. Sandra started taking my class, maybe in April. Come to find out, she’s the daughter of one of the ajummas from my morning class. She’s pretty good at English, but I noticed she kept popping up in my class even when I changed my schedule giving the morning class to Lily. She even dropped down a level and took my class in the evening.” “Dang, so, when did she start acting funny?” “Everything was fine until September. There were always enough other students in the class. I tried to engage all my students equally. But in September, I took the morning class again, and it was a small class. A lot of the advanced students took a term off or switched to evening classes. Toward the end of September she started messaging me, asking if I wanted to hang out during my break time or on the weekend. I said I was pretty busy, but maybe some of my students would like to go out as a group. But then in October, she happened to be the only student in class one morning. The topic in the textbook was about dating and relationships. Well, it wasn’t the first time the book had delved into the topic. And, you should also know that I like to teach my classes a little provocatively. I have probably come across as flirty or cutesy, but only when it was a group of college students.” Philip chuckled. “But in a one-on-one setting, my goal is to be completely unattainable. You know we shouldn’t date our students. It’s completely unethical. I casually brought it up during that class when she started asking me about past relationships.” “Seriously? How did that come up?” “Well, she was asking me about if I ever dated a Korean girl. If there was ever a student in my class I had a crush on.” Wow, how did she respond?” “Well, she looked sad. Her perfect 7-am make up, dressed like a woman 15 years her senior kind of showed the face of a little girl. Dismayed she said, ‘You must get lonely.’ ‘I get by just fine. I have my friends. I know that this situation isn’t permanent.’” “So, then, why is she still messaging you?”
I regret to admit that a few years ago I told my students that BTS probably would never enjoy mainstream success in America. Sure, the signs were all there: the Spotify numbers, the growing fervor for diverse cultures in the pop scene, a growing media interest in Korean culture–movies were featuring more scenes in Seoul, and Asian actors were getting more and more leading roles. “However,” I assured my middle school students, “American radio listeners aren’t very tolerant of foreign languages.” A song like “Despacito” got huge because of its featuring Justin Bieber on the remix. However, when I made those regrettable comments, I was thinking about the America that I knew. I was thinking about the time in college I was a faithful reader of Billboard’s charts, before you had to pay a monthly fee to read them. I was thinking of a time when radio airplay was the majority of an artist’s success. And with BTS’s Billboard success–two #1 Hot 100 hits in a row–American radio stations are still reluctant to play the boyband from South Korea. I am truly happy for BTS’s success with their English, Korean, and Japanese hits’ success. I am also glad that more democratic systems like Spotify streams and YouTube views help to propel an artist to their true potential, rather than relying on the gatekeepers of the FM airwaves.
WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES IN THE DARKNESS…Maybe you’re out late, coming home from the nightlife in Seoul. Maybe you’ve just come from the train and public transportation has stopped and the only way to get home is by taxi. If the taxi driver isn’t watching tv–which was a little terrifying when I first came to Korea–he’s probably listening to the radio. Late at night, you might hear some old Bruce Springsteen song or maybe some Korean 트롯(throat) music, a kind of popular music with the older people. Sometimes you might hear newer K-pop or Taylor Swift from the 2010s. Most of the songs are interrupted by the DJ in the middle of the song. I’ve heard a French song or two. But one thing you’ll never hear is a Japanese song on Korean broadcasting. It’s illegal. Even if it’s an original by mega Korean superstars BTS, you might hear the Japanese song streaming at the gym, but it cannot be played on the radio due to a censorship law of Japanese media. China, Japan, and Korea have or have had bans on each respective country’s music at one time or another. Since 2016, China has placed a ban on South Korean culture because of Korea and America’s installation of THAAD, a defense initiative aimed to protect the nation from North Korean missile attacks, but argued by the Chinese Government as an intelligence- grabbing opportunity for the United States on the Asian continent. The ban made it harder for Korean artists to perform in China, thus many Korean artists set their sights on the Japanese market. However, the conservatives in Japan, too, worry about Korean cultural infiltration. The two countries run hot with disputes. When former President Trump declared, “Trade wars are good, and easy to win,” Asia had been proving the business tycoon-turned president’s statement false since the end of World War II. From the most recent “White List” trade battle that reached into trade at every level, banning imports/exports between the two countries for a time, making goods in both countries more expensive and electronics impossible to produce.
FLYING ON DAMAGED WINGS THROUGH THE NIGHT. So how does this crash course on East Asian economics relate to South Korea’s best selling musical act? How do the American pop charts connect? Just as some groups in American pop music don’t translate to an international market, not all Korean music is bound to go abroad. However, the highest success relies on transnational crossover appeal. Before BTS, or any major K-pop group for that matter, tackled the English pop charts, they rode the K-Wave to Japan. The Korean Wave first crashed on the shores of China, despite a highly censored media, in the early 2000s. The boy band H.O.T preformed a sold-out concert in Shanghai in the year 2000. Two years later, BoA became the first Korean artist to sell a million copies in Japan. By the end of the ’00s, K-pop groups would record in both Chinese and Japanese for their fans in both countries. Sometimes, they would just record the Japanese or Chinese versions of their Korean hits. But other times, like today’s song, “Lights,” the artist would debut an original song in the language of the country of primary release. This came at a time when, because of a nationalist Korean drama, Mr. Sunshine—a drama set during the Japanese annexation of Korea–, and because of the sanctions raised between the two governments’ tourist industries, Koreans canceled their travel plans to Japan. BTS isn’t the first Korean group to sing or create music in Japanese, but they are the first Korean group that wrote music in Japanese and spoke at the UN. Perhaps the economical and cultural divide between Japan and Korea will never be solved. But perhaps music can be a source of peace. Perhaps this generation can cut a new path of reconciliation.
P.S. Much of what I said in this post are based on conversations I have had with Korean people and some Wikipedia searching. I believe I need to take the time to rewrite and better research this topic. I hope that I covered this topic with sensitivity, and I hope to improve how I approach sensitive topics like this one.
Kim Jong-won, singer of the South Korean soft-rock band Nell makes a third entry for the month. The writer of Taeyeon’s “Time Lapse” and Kim Sung-Kyu’s “Shine,” knows how to write an autumny, nostalgic track. Nell became known for their bleak music in the early 2000s. Their release of 2008’s Separation Anxietyis no exception. “Time Spent Walking Through Memories” would become one of Nell’s most recognizable songs. However, conscription would force the band on to go on hiatus before making their comeback in 2012, changing their sad tune to the uplifting, anthemic “Ocean of Light.”“Time Spent Walking” sees singer Kim Jong-won wax poetic, describing the loss of love, in similar manner to “Time Lapse” and “Shine.” “Time Spent Walking,” however, has a calmer, lullaby quality to the soft piano and the ending “La La”s.
FROM THE VISION OF A STRANGER PASSING BY. You probably still remember the cooler Sunday afternoons. Summer practically begins in late April in Korea these days. You realize when you’re going to a spring wedding in Cheongryeong-ri and after the wedding you take advantage of the fact that you’re in Seoul and it’s Sunday so you might as well go shopping or eat something you can’t have in Chungju and you start sweating profusely, so you fold your suit jacket underneath your now embarrassing pit-stained blue dress shirt, that winter has ended. But then there’s September when you leave your apartment just a bit earlier than usual to catch a train for the coordinator’s meeting, and while you’re shivering, waiting for a taxi, you check the weather app and realize that every day is becoming a little cooler and you should have probably brought a jacket. So the next weekend, you keep that in mind, leaving a little bit later to meet up with Alex for brunch in Itaewon, wearing a thin jacket because it never did warm up last Sunday, and cafe, restaurant, and bookstore blasted the air conditioning like it was mid-July and outside you were just a little cold. But this weekend, the sun heats up by 10:30 with your windbreaker on, and you’re left carrying your jacket around all day. And every place you go has turned off the air conditioning, and one place might have turned on the heat? But carrying a jacket around is not a problem. And I still remember your brown leather jacket covering your forest green and dark blue Gingham button down shirt.
EVEN TODAY I LIVED WITH THE TRACES OF YOU. In my younger, almost virginal state, I thought that the conversation we shared, a game of volleyball about teaching English and being a foreigner in another country, about how you too had discovered abroad, years ago in Toronto, you were like me. How you used to try to cover this up, especially when you came back to Seoul, to good Confucian parents who only wanted your financial success and for you to produce children and pass on the moral values of Korean culture. And so you tried the matchmakers your parents subjected you to, you had a few wild nights with the boss at those karaoke bars, when you were a young man building your career, getting a little too drunk. It was the mid- ’90s and spending time with a prostitute on the boss’s dime was expected of good employees, you told me. Of course, these days workers are filing complaints of abuse and scandal after scandal comes out about businessmen, singers, teachers, and ordinary folks getting caught–with their pants down–so to speak. But you said, let’s not talk of that anymore. You never let me say the word gay. “Korean people can’t follow a conversation in English,” you said in the crowded outdoor foodcourt in Jong-ro, “but they do know the word gay.” So we talked in euphemism about the things that I was so scared to say aloud. The things I had confessed to web forums–and then deleted my account when I felt the prick of conscience. But now I had gone too far. Alex, you were the face and spirit and body of something that I had hoped existed when I was trapped in a repressive Christian high school. And I might have run away if you too didn’t talk about your conversion to Christianity in your teen years. About how you still believe that God has a place for us. About how we can’t help how we are. And just as the conversation grew to an intellectual or spiritual climax, you’d get quiet and finish your drink and look at me, your muscular chest pressing against that leather jacket, and ask me, “So, you wanna go to a motel?”
In high school, Kim Sung-kyu, the future leader of the boy band Infinite, had to hide his vocal practice from his parents. In high school he sang in a rock band with some of his friends. When he graduated he left his hometown of Jeonju in hopes of having a career in music in Seoul. After failing an audition for SM Entertainment, he tried out for label Woolim Entertainment. His hope was to be a rock singer like his future label mates, Nell. On the day of his audition, though, he was suffering from appendicitis. Determined to make it as a singer, he sang through the pain and went to the hospital after the audition finished. Rather than cultivating Kim’s rock talents, the record label decided to place him as the leader of the their first boy-band, Infinite. Throughout the group’s tenure, they would flirt with rock music; however, it wasn’t until Sung-Kyu’s debut EP, Another Me, that he would be able to make the kind of music he envisioned.
WHENEVER THIS TIME OF YEAR COMES, I ALWAYS THINK OF THE WORDS YOU USED TO SAY TO ME. Released at the end of 2012, Another Me is a K-pop album for listeners who don’t really care for the genre, and was an excellent introduction to Korean music. From the vocal intro-track that is reminiscent of early ’90s harmonies to the near-epic closing track “41 Days” which displays Sung-kyu’s passionate vocals, this short album is a refreshing look at a soft-rock album when most Koreans musicians, particularly ones with any association with K-pop, had long rejected the genre. Born in 1989, Sung-kyu’s prominence in the music scene corresponded with a rejection of guitars, bass and drums, in favor of synths and trap beats. And while the songs on Another Me are much calmer than some of the rock bands who charted on the pop charts in the ‘90s and ‘00s, the EP has an authenticity that the “other” Sung-kyu can sing to the music he believes in. His confidence will make it popular, rather than pandering to the whims of the K-pop market. Another Me may not be a very popular release. Apple Music didn’t have it for a long time, and Sung-kyu’s later releases seem to have received more recognition. But fans of the album seem to really love it. The guitar-driven “Shine,” Like “Time Lapse,” was written by Nell’s vocalist Kim Jong-wan. Sung-kyu stated that he auditioned for Woolim Entertainment because of Nell, so the lead singer’s input on the album brings Sung-kyu’s career full circle. Speaking about the seasons of change, a break up, a longing for the past lover and a longing for the past makes this late ’90s-sounding guitar ballad feel relevant even nine years later.
YOUR VOICE, YOUR EYES, YOUR TOUCH THAT LINGERED ON ME. Fall seems to be the most nostalgic season. The life germinated in the spring and brought to fruition in the summer seems to have our minds focused on the new. From the first buds on the trees in late February, we focus on the possibilities that this new life will bring. But our minds start to change with the nearing of the harvest. When the children go back to school, adults realize that the possibilities we hoped for when we were children didn’t go exactly to plan. We stop looking ahead because, in the fall, we’re truly afraid of what bitter cold the winter years of our lives might bring. Hence we buy into the pumpkin spice, the apple picking, the cozy sweaters, a form of carpe diem when it comes to the midlife crisis. We remember “when I was a kid,” looking through old yearbooks, remembering past Halloweens, Thanksgivings, and Christmases. Parents propitiate these traditions or modify them, and thus we repeat the cycle of nostalgia year in and year out until the children leave the house. In the fall, we look back at the year, measuring how far from the target the darts fell. And we can’t just confine it to one year, we might overanalyze our patterns in the fall. We may drudge up old relationships, wondering how I failed her or why he’s no longer around. But before going to call up an ex, remember that the golden light cascading through the colored leaves encapsulates only the good of that other person. Remember that those cold nights when the bitter breeze carries the last of the leaves clinging to the top of the tree only frames your failures, not successes. And when the fall begins, the Korean harvest festival celebrating the first full moon of the fall, Chuseok, be thankful for what you’ve been given this year and in this life. The relationships may not have gone they way you expected, but who are you, God? And finally, Josh, back in 2014, don’t be so quick to feel rejected. Don’t think of those moments with Alex as the happy, golden moments. Don’t be so quick to recreate that feeling. The moments walking under fallen Gingko leaves can’t be manufactured. Let them happen.
“My my, hey hey/ Rock ‘n’ Roll is here to stay” declares Neil Young in his 1978 song. Rock music has had lasting presence in pop culture since the age of Chuck Berry and Little Richard. Some points in the ’60s, ’70s, ’80s, ’90s, and ’00s the genre took the primary spots on radio charts outside of the genre. However, around the end of the ’00s, Hip Hop decimated the genre. The rock bands left standing, mostly traded their axes for acoustic guitar, keyboards, EDM beats, or Trap rhythms. Much of the rock music was indistinguishable from other genres, and that trend continues into the 2020s. However, just as rock bands cross over to the pop charts, the late 2010s to 2021 is seeing pop singers experiment with rock music. From Miley Cyrus performing with Metallica to rappers like Post Malone and Machine Gun Kelly flirting with emo, some may argue that Rock is seeing a mainstream resurgence. Enter Olivia Rodrigo‘s “good 4 u,” the first guitar-driven song to top the British pop charts for more than four weeks since 2003’s “Bring Me to Life” by Evanescence.
YOU BOUGHT A NEW CAR AND YOUR CAREER’S REALLY TAKING OFF. Disney Channel star-turned musician Olivia Rodrigo released her debut album Sourback in May this year. The album is one of the biggest of the year for several reasons. Critics loved how self-aware Rodrigo’s lyrics were for the late teenage years. Musically, listeners and critics loved the genre-bending of the songs. Rodrigo was influenced by pop, synth-pop, punk, and metal. The album’s second single, “good 4 u,” taps into the angry girl rock song, popularized in the ’90s by Fiona Apple and Alanis Morissette–critics even calling Sour the Jagged Little Pillfor Generation Z. While modern “sad girl” music influenced by these ’90s stars, artists like Lana Del Rey, Lorde, and Billie Eilish, has tended to avoid heavy guitars and drums as if it were an embarrassing trend, Rodrigo leans into it on “good 4 u.” Many listeners have cited a similarity between Rodrigo’s second chart-topping hit and Paramore‘s breakthrough single, “Misery Business.” Rodrigo admitted to taking the inspiration for parts of the song and eventually gave writing credits to Paramore’s Haley Williams and Zac Farro. Rodrigo’s hit takes a few jabs at her assumed ex, co-star Joshua Bassett, who reportedly got famous, according to Rodrigo, on the coattails of her success. The lyrics of the song use sarcasm, even including a singing-laugh more commonly heard in musical theater than pop or rock music. Whereas the lyrics are about rage, the video is pure revenge. Some may feel a similarity to the “Misery Business” video. The video shows Rodrigo burning down a house, losing her mind with rage, yet looking cute and pretty all along the way.
I’VE SPENT THE NIGHT CRYING ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR. “Good 4 u” captures the grief of the “loser” of a break up. This is in contrast to the “victor” who is doing great with someone new. While some breakups occur completely mutually, but those kind of break ups don’t make good rock songs. Keane‘s “We Might as Well Be Strangers” takes a sad approach of two people who don’t know each other anymore. But in “good 4 u” the listener is either 1) passive aggressively rubbing the speaker’s face in his success or 2) genuinely misses the other person and is even looking for her affirmation. Either way, Rodrigo calls him a “damn sociopath.” Allan back in 2014 would answer the second, completely self-absorbed, blind to Kelly’s affections and unaware that the ship had sailed. “I’m going to start attending another church across town,” she said one day at church. “It’s Pastor Shim. I tried as much as I could. He’s run off all of the other Korean teachers. He’s so controlling of us.” “Well, we can still keep in touch, I hope,” Allan said. “Of course. I couldn’t dream of not seeing you.” The KakaoTalk messages used to be frequent tennis matches between them full of emojis, usually initiated by Kelly, asking an English grammar question, but Allan would always ask something personal about her day. However, he started noticing that the messages became less and less frequent. The meetings stopped, too. When he messaged her the answers were short. He asked to meet up at a cafe. Her answers were non-comital. “Should have made that move,” Abram said, shaking his head. “But, I can see why you didn’t. It’s so clear.” “And what is that?” “You want someone younger. Kelly maybe a young soul, but you need someone your age. Someone to start the family God wants you to make.” “I just wish that I could still have that friendship.” “It’s unnatural for men and women to be friends. When you do settle down and get married, do you think your wife will want you hanging out in cafes with an older woman you clearly have chemistry with?”
On The Labeled Podcast‘s first season, Aaron Marsh talked about the history of their first album, Beneath Medicine Tree. The Copeland singer claimed that there were no Christian Copeland songs; however, songs on Copeland albums that sound like they speak about faith are inspired by his grandmother. This month we return to Copeland’s second record, In Motion, an album that is perhaps Copeland’s most Christian-sounding record. “You Have My Attention” is a very spiritual song. It uses Christian terminology to build the central metaphor. Whether the relationship is with God, Marsh’s grandmother, or an idea who “has [his] attention like a shout through an empty sanctuary” yet “speak[s] but a whisper,” “You Have My Attention” is a powerful song about a muse or a force that blesses the speaker. A holy spirit or the Holy Spirit carries this tune, grabbing the listener’s attention when the hectic afternoon lets up for just a moment.
JUST DO YOUR BEST TO HEAR ME. If you say that God talks with an audible voice, people will dismiss you as crazy. “What are the voices telling you now?” They might ask. The Quakers teach that everyone has a conscience, and it is through the conscience that believers can have a direct experience with God. Adventists teach young children that their conscience is the Holy Spirit and that they should always listen to their conscience. If they don’t listen to that still, small voice, it will go away. As we get older, we learn that if the conscience goes away, it’s the unpardonable sin, or grieving the Holy Spirit. When you’re little it’s all about listening to your parents. When you’re a teenager it’s all about not doing certain things. Don’t smoke, don’t drink, don’t play video games with lots of blood, don’t watch that movie, don’t listen to that music, don’t look at those websites. To live one’s life in prayer was the alternative. If a person was born again, he or she would receive the Holy Spirit and begin a personal relationship with God. This relationship has teenagers in their quiet times when they weren’t feeling guilty about all the bad things they did, talking to God and thinking about him. It was a metaphysical friendship, like an experience with a friend you can talk to all the time, who is always there, yet who oddly has a very similar personality to you, or at least, a personality of you at your ideal state. This friend would also sound like a pastor, a Bible school teacher, and your own interpretation of what is wrong.
YOUR VOICE SOUNDS MILES AWAY. This was the reality Allan grew up in. Raised in a conservative home and praying the sinner’s prayer at a young age, some of his biggest childhood fears were of the second coming, and not being called to meet the Lord in the air. But since many Adventists didn’t throw around terms like “saved,” emphasizing baptism at an age in which a person can tell the difference between right and wrong–anywhere from 8-12. Allan had talked to God since he was taught how to pray as a child. As a child, most of his nightly prayers addressed fears he had, all the ways he could die and not be prepared for heaven. When he was about ten, he took a cue from Baptist theology and followed the ABCs of being born again. After admitting to God that [he] was a sinner, believing that Jesus was the only way to heaven, and confessing sin after sin after sin, Allan felt some relief for his soul. As children get older, though, guilty thoughts can become more and more prevalent with the violent flooding of new hormones. In eighth grade, Allan entered a baptismal class at the school Pastor Jim had started. Nick had joined the class along with some of his other friends, studying the 27 Fundamental Beliefs of the Seventh-day Adventist Church. “The worst thing that could happen,” Pastor Jim said toward the end of the class, “is that you will come out of the water, a wet sinner.” Several of the students dropped out before the class ended. The kids with non-Adventist parents mostly dropped out, especially after studying some of the finer points in Adventist doctrine. However, it was five eighth graders clad in baggy baptismal ropes entering the church tank that was only filled on the occasion of someone joining the church through immersion. Nick joked that he wasn’t wearing boxers under the robe. Allan laughed but tried to keep the occasion as somber as he could. Today was the day that he would show his commitment to Christ. After the baptism, the parents of a classmate who was baptized that day held a special dinner at their house where all the baptized students and their families attended. Nick’s mother had to work, so she didn’t attend. The meal took place outside because the early September day was not too hot. The meal was simple, vegetarian hotdogs, potato chips, and several kinds of salads. Allan received many congratulations from church members and felt welcomed with hugs and gifts of devotional books. As people started dwindling after the food was served, Allan realized how quiet Nick had been all day. When they were alone at their folding table, Nick asked, “Did you feel it?” “I think so,” Allan said. “I didn’t feel anything.” Allan looked into his friend’s green eyes. “Maybe nobody knows for sure. I’m sure that’s what it is,” Allan said putting his arm on his friend’s shoulder.
In the early 2010’s Rock music began to fall out of favor. The artists who took up the call to keep the music alive and vital were often criticized as being too poppy. When writing Linkin Park’s The Hunting Party, the band pivoted from the calmer electronic elements they had slowly been incorporating into their music and returned to their influences, ’90s hard rock. Personally, I feel that The Hunting Party is the least listenable Linkin Park albums followed by their sloppy pop attempt on their follow up record, One More Light. The Hunting Party sounds like under-produced, early P.O.D.–all intensity, with nothing really interesting drawing the listener in. Laced with features from hard rock, metal, and hip hop, the album, in theory should be awesome. Hybrid Theory was an intense album, both lyrically and musically, but electronics and production made the band stand out among the Korns and Limp Bizkits of the day. However, The Hunting Party does contain one throw-back sounding song. “Final Masquerade” sounds like it would be at home on the band’s 2010 release, A Thousand Suns. While the music isn’t as intense as many of the tracks on THP, “Final Masquerade” is thematically heavy, and that’s what makes it one of my favorites from one of my favorite 2000s rock band.
I CAN’T SEE FORGIVENESS AND YOU CAN’T SEE THE CRIME. Final Masquerade is an epic-sounding song, which uses lyrics that sound apocalyptic to talk about the breakdown of a relationship. Director Mark Pellington leans into the metaphor to create a music video that is somewhere between terrifying and heartbreaking. Scenes of death and devastation haunt the video. A baby cries in the middle of an empty, cracked street. An angel screams and weeps bitterly seeing the destruction. Men in jumpsuits and masks give an eerie feeling alluding to contamination. Given the imagery of the song and the music video and the fact that this is vocalist Chester Bennington’s penultimate recording, many listeners have looked to Linkin Park’s music, hearing the tortured cries for help Bennington penned within the band’s music. Bennington had issues with substance abuse and depression throughout his life, which can be heard in the band’s first singles. “Final Masquerade” speaks to the hopelessness one may feel when a relationship that the two people “said it was forever but then it slip[s] away.” Whether or not this song biographical of Bennington, it was actually originally intended for co-vocalist Mike Shinoda to sing the song, but the band decided that Bennington’s vocals better suited the atmosphere of the song.
ALL YOU EVER WANTED THE TRUTH I COULDN’T SPEAK. “I wanted to talk to you about something, Pastor Shin,” Allan nervously played with the lines on his slacks. He looked at the director’s greying streaks in his otherwise jet-black hair. Pastor Shin’s eyes danced over to Allan, stiffly leaning planted in the folding chair in front of his desk. “You have my fullest attention. What can I help you with?” “Well, the other teachers wanted me to talk with you about something that’s been happening lately,” Allan swallowed. “You see, lately we’ve been receiving students even though registration was supposed to close. And our students are joining our class, confused. The other teachers and I would like this to stop. It’s very difficult to catch our students up halfway through the course.” There was a brief silence and Pastor Shin’s smile faded. “You know, Allan, our institutes are not doing well these days. We have to do what we can to stay in business. We need the students to pay the rent for this place, however we can take them in.” “The problem is, at the end of the course, the students don’t sign up again because they cannot pass to the next level.” “I’ve explained clearly to them that they must repeat the course at the end of the term. Nobody expects to pace if they only attend 40% of the classes.” “But the students come to me asking, ‘Teacher why didn’t I pass. I want to study a higher level.’” “If they can study a higher level, that’s your discretion” — “But the company policy is very clear on attendance.” “I’m saying we have to be flexible.” Allan considered his next words for a few seconds before responding. “The problem is that I have a conflict of interest. Coordinator meetings are telling me to watch out for these kinds of things. They want to insure the quality of the program. They said to report to the main office when these protocols are broken.” Pastor Shin grew silent as if the clouds had shifted before a storm. “Allan, if you do that,” his voice broke as if he was fighting back tears, “our institute will be ruined. We’ll join the growing list every term of institutes to be closed.” He composed himself, “Look, you, Marley, Lily, and Naomi are the best teachers I’ve worked with–a dream team. You care so much for our institute; you all do. Please, don’t say anything to the head office. It’s an unspoken rule that directors have to make hard decisions. We have to do what we can to keep our doors open. And if we do that we can keep the ministry going in this city.” Allan sat up straight, no longer nervous about what Pastor Shin might do or say. “Thank you Pastor Shin for your time. Please remind the students that if they join late, they cannot be promoted.” With that Allan stood up and left through the seventies-orange door.
009 Sound System has been called the “National Anthem of YouTube.” Released under the moniker 009 Sound System, composer Alexander Perls has lent most of the group’s work to the Creative Commons. Songs like “Born to Be Wasted” have appeared in numerous YouTube videos because music from the Creative Commons is free for YouTube creators to use. The band, 009 Sound System appears close to the top of the list. Furthermore, YouTube introduced a program in 2007 called AudioSwap to replace copyrighted material with material in the Creative Commons, hence, songs like “Born to Be Wasted” appeared in many YouTube videos. I discovered this song when clicking on an AFI song that had been removed for copyright violation. I loved the feel to “Born to Be Wasted,” so I discovered who the band really was through Shazam.
THE CAR’S GOIN’ FAST, GONNA SPEED IT UP. “Born to Be Wasted” isn’t a deep song, by any means. But before knocking the plethora of mixed metaphors, remember that this song is a stock song to make YouTube videos seem like they are using original content. Lyrically, “Born to Be Wasted” sounds like a nihilistic party song. If “wasted” refers to being drunk, the song is a fun party anthem. But being “born” to live in a drunken state seems rather dark. If “wasted” means thrown away, the song gets even darker. The namesake of Lana Del Rey’s major label debut LP “Born to Die,” talks about the risks of living as worth taking because death is inevitable. Anberlin’s “Godspeed” is a rock ‘n’ roll tale of misadventure primarily about the “27 club” of musicians–Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and others from the “Chelsea Hotel” drug scene and extended to artists like Kurt Cobain and Amy Winehouse who all died young. Lana Del Rey, at the age of 27 also was quoted as being fearful to joining the “27 club”–musicians who died of drug overdoses or alcohol poisoning before the age of 30. Anberlin’s “Godspeed” is an antithesis to this rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, saying, “They lied when they said the good die young.” But there is possibly another interpretation to “Born to Be Wasted”; however, it is hard to tell if this was Perls’ intention. On YouTube, the song is used for several slideshows of U.S. Troops in Afghanistan and Iraq. One video says has the caption written: “support our troops,” another one has a commenter who states: “Does anyone feel how heartbreaking these images are? Combined with the song, they’re an emotional rollercoaster. War ruins so many lives, all for the arrogance of the rich that lose nothing.” When life ends so quickly, it’s hard not to feel that it was inevitable, or that the life was simply wasted. And for twenty years, America has fought in a controversial war with no obtainable end-game, some simply wonder if it was all just a waste?
THE NIGHT’S NOT GONNA LAST SO LET’S KEEP IT UP. “Let’s try,” is how Song Jae had left Josh at the hotel. He had to go back to work and couldn’t spend Sunday night with Josh. On Saturday night, Josh demanded to see Song Jae and they spent the night together. “The problem is, you don’t try to communicate,” Jacob said the morning before, lounging in his plaid boxers and university t-shirt during the ambiguous slumber part. Jacob was an International Studies student at Gyeongsang National University. The two had messaged on Grindr before meeting in person the night for dinner and a late movie. During dinner, a barbecue restaurant near campus where neither knew how to cook the beef and at one point nearly caused a restaurant fire, both talked about what they were doing in Korea. Jacob told Josh that he was in the final year of studying his undergrad and would be returning to the Philippines in the winter, or that was the plan. His devout Catholic family was struggling to accept their son as he came out shortly before coming to Korea. “So, what’s your deal?” Jacob asked fondling the beef with his chopsticks. Josh admitted that he was merely looking for friends for a long summer holiday. “I recently came out–to myself–a year ago. I have a boyfriend. He works up in Gyeongi, but he’s very busy this summer.” “Ah, that sucks,” Jacob said. He then moved laid his hand on his chin, “I think we all have that Korean boyfriend. The one that’s there at first. It’s all trips and flowers and candy at first.” He took another piece of beef from the grill, “All you white boys I meet are the same here. Always in a relationship with a Korean, always looking for something on the side. Always complaining about the emotional absence.” Josh furled his forehead, in slight distaste that he had been so accurately stereotyped. But Jacob kept talking. “Me, though, my absent Korean boyfriend is an older white American soldier. Up in Osan. When he’s on leave I’m in class. When I’m on leave, he’s stuck on base.” “I’m sorry to hear that. So how do you cope with it?” “Friendship. And lots of one-night stands.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned in, placing his hand on his chin, his thumb slightly caressing his bottom lip. “But I never mix the two.” His eyes swept Josh’s torso vertically. “How about you?”
Many fans may have been introduced to Tegan and Sara when Meredith Grey and Christina Yang danced to their early acoustic, angry girl music on Grey’s Anatomy‘s earlier seasons. The musical duo of Calgary-born identical twins Tegan and Sara Quin started on the acoustic guitar at home and eventually lead to being signed on Neil Young‘s label, Vapor Records. The band gained traction in the indie scene. The White Stripes covered one of their songs, co-writing with Chris Walla of Death Cab for Cutie also helped them gain indie cred in their early career. But in 2013, the duo changed directions. The result was the big-production, synth pop-driven Heartthrob.
HERE COMES THE RUSH BEFORE WE TOUCH. “Closer,” Heartthrob’s opening track and lead single, sees the sisters explore new lyrical territory in addition to their musical change up. Tegan sings lead vocals, but Sara encouraged her to sing a straight-up love song, without the dark and dreary lyrical content the group had been known for. According to an article inRolling Stone, Tegan’s lyrics were about “a time when we got closer by linking arms and walking down our school hallway, or talked all night on the telephone about every thought or experience we’d ever had. It wasn’t necessarily even about hooking up or admitting your feelings back then.” In a video series the twins released talking about the songs on the album, Sara pushed the lyrics to “make things physical,” referencing high school romance. Tegan best sums up the atmosphere, stating to Rolling Stone, “These relationships existed in a state of sexual and physical ambiguity.” The music gives the impression of a late-’80s early-’90s slumber party, with the sisters singing karaoke on ancient, faux wood entertainment stand in which the television is built in–younger millennials may not remember that artifact–and childish games like spin the bottle and applying lipstick. The video celebrates couples of all genders and sexualities. Both Tegan and Sara are openly queer musicians from their musical inception, and have used their music as a platform in recent years to advocate for equality. “Closer” scored a number one hit for the duo on the Billboard’s Dance Tracks and has been featured in several television shows including Gleeand Bojack Horseman. The song is a beautifully innocent track about desire–wanting to take things to the next level, but being too young, too naive, too shy to do so.
THE LIGHTS ARE OFF AND THE SUN IS FINALLY SETTING. THE NIGHT SKY IS CHANGING OVERHEAD. Before he met Alex Jeong, Josh’s friendship had been a series of ambiguity. He thought back to Regan era episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, a show defined by its stuffy, mostly sexually repressed characters in search of scientific answers in the universe. The series was in contrast to the hot and sweaty original series. Characters in TNG kept everything, mostly, inside their stuffy uniforms with only a few “virus” episodes making them go crazy. Even Deanna Troi was quite a tame-stress. Sex in TNG and pre-puberty was awkward and ambiguous. For starters Josh couldn’t understand what the men around him, his father, his uncles, his older cousins, saw in women. He was under a false impression that he had been sent to school to begin courtship, so he found a girl that looked kind of like his mother, a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl by the name of Sara Fiona Horton. “She’s adorable,” his mother would tease him. But in first grade, Josh’s interests were more about making friends with boys. His feelings toward Sara had changed. In the third grade she kissed Josh while lining up for lunch, which greatly embarrassed him. “Don’t ever talk to me again,” he shouted at her in front of the other kids. He was happy to bury this past when he moved to North Carolina. Middle school was a time of it not being cool to being the most important thing to have a girlfriend. While he was interested in dating, what that time meant going to the movies and sitting in silence with, a couple of the girls at school, when puberty struck, he became more and more withdrawn from the idea of dating. Instead, he put on his repressive TNG suit, figuratively, and buried himself in playing guitar. But interest was developing, though it was hard for Josh to put words to whatever it was. Both male and female friendships grew harder and harder to define. What exactly caused the spark? It couldn’t be that. Could it?
John Mayer released his first studio album, Room for Squares, 20 years ago, in June 2001 on an indie label and rereleased it on September 18, 2001 on Columbia Records, though his first single, “No Such Thing” didn’t hit the radio until February 2002. Room sold over 4 million copies and was Mayer’s most commercially successful album. Mayer’s success comes after dropping out of college–Berklee College of Music, a college in Boston where many contemporary musicians attended–and moving to Atlanta to begin writing and producing music with fellow musician Clay Cook. After the success of his first album, Mayer became a collaborator with other singer-songwriters, both his contemporaries and his influences. The songs on Room for Squares are often autobiographical. Mayer set out to be the ’70s singer songwriter for the new millennium. Born in 1977, the 24 year old sings about going back to his home when he was six years old in “83.” He uses some effective metaphors to explain what aging feels like.
MOST OF MY MEMORIES HAVE ESCAPED ME OR CONFUSED THEMSELVES WITH DREAMS. “Overrated,” Jess said, switching the station from MTV2 to VH1, “That’s the only word I will give any thought to giving this song.” She was describing John Mayer’s first hit, “No Such Thing.” “That lazy voice. It’s like he puts no effort into any aspect of his life.” “Well, the song is kinda boring. Like a less-inspired James Taylor, and that’s kind of hard to do.” Allan said, though thinking that his sister’s criticism was a little harsh. He had a kind of handsome charm, maybe a role model of sorts that maybe one day Allan could have a boring video on MTV with a song about high school life, or the lack there of. Often when Allan was at Nick’s house, Room for Squares was playing on the stereo. Nick didn’t like it as much as Jill, Nick’s mother liked the album. “Isn’t he wonderful,” Jill would say, holding a half-empty wine glass after getting off from work. She said it like a girl, awestruck by a crush. “He’s not half bad,” Clay, her boyfriend would agree. “Someday he might make a fine musician.” Nick’s older brother, too, would play the album whenever he was around. When Allan mentioned to Nick once that he was on the fence about John Mayer’s music, Nick snapped, “You’re just jealous because he’s famous and you’re not.” “Maybe,” Allan said pensively, more to himself. To be fair, Nick would say this for artists he himself didn’t care for: Britney Spears, Celine Dion, ‘NSync all got his devil’s advocacy. Allan’s dream of one day being on MTV2, of making music videos, of writing songs that he believed in, of being on a movie soundtrack, of having a high-profile romance with Nelly Furtado–or someone more age appropriate singer when he actually got famous (Nick would date Michelle Branch) could have been brought to fruition with Nick.
HERE I STAND, 6 FEET SMALL. For about a year and a half, Nick and Allan were inseparable. Around them their friend group was made. When they went on Pathfinder camping trips, the youth group the Seventh-day Adventist church had that was a carbon copy of Boy/Girl Scouts, Nick and Allan bunked together away from the weird kids, the ones who were too religious or too annoying. It was a friendship that Allan’s mother wasn’t thrilled with. In the seventh grade, word had got around in the church and church school that Nick had unwittingly charged his mother’s credit card hundreds of dollars on an Eastern European porn site. It was for that reason Allan was never allowed to spend the night at Nick’s house. “You go over there and play music, but you know better than to be looking around on his computer. You know our family values,” his mother would remind Allan from time to time. And music was mostly what the friendship was based around. Allan wanted to be the lead guitarist and a backup singer. He was too shy to carry lead singing duties. Nick was more attractive than Allan, anyway. At fourteen, he was already 6 feet tall, corn-silk hair, clearer skin than Allan’s, and radiating with confidence even when the note was a little flat, Allan’s fourteen year-old brain was sure that Nick was his shot to stardom. When they performed at a school fundraiser the fall of 2001, a song that Nick would later confess was a song actually not about God’s long-suffering acceptance of sinners but actually about a fight with his mother, a church member said that Nick was clearly the John Lennon of the group and Allan was a Paul McCarthy. Allan saw that as the greatest compliment of his short musical career up to that point. But Allan should have seen that the band they were building together was never about him. As members clashed with Nick and were asked to leave, Allan would realize all of this was leading up to the times when he would no longer go to Nick’s basement to jam.
Mixtapemotions 