EP

“Nice to meet you. I’m Ha Suyeon, the guitarist and leader of the band Group Sound.”

A half-exposed forehead, swaying hair. A thick sweatshirt and a pleated skirt with a checkered pattern, reaching about halfway down her thighs. White socks covering her calves slightly, and adorable white shoes.

Applause poured down from the audience. Cheers like “Pretty!” rang out as well, but the guitarist greeted the audience without paying them any mind, as if she were used to it. The band members were introduced next: bassist Choi Iseo, keyboardist Jeong Hyuna, and drummer Yoo Seoha.

‘I’d heard it already, but they really are all pretty girls.’

Had they selected them based on their looks and then put them through brutal training? Suryeol wondered. The girl who looked like the leader was the prettiest, though the others varied slightly.

“And as announced on Twitter, today we’ll be performing the prerelease track from our upcoming EP, [Ashen Days], along with several other unreleased songs.”

The audience answered with cheers. Suryeol swept his gaze over them.

The outdoor venue was packed so tightly that there was hardly room to watch the performance. There were fans who seemed to have heard about it in advance, passersby who had come simply to see what was going on, and high-school girls who appeared to be recording videos. Even though people who looked like fans were voluntarily organizing the crowd, it was still this packed.

And the hardcore fans organizing the crowd… looked like people who had absolutely nothing to do with the indie band scene.

‘How strange.’

Suryeol was a music critic, not an indie expert, but he knew well how the indie band scene operated.

And in Suryeol’s assessment, the indie scene’s greatest problem was… only the people who already enjoyed it were enjoying it. New bands appeared, but no new listeners joined in.

But Group Sound was defying that principle. They were bringing people with absolutely nothing to do with indie music into Hongdae’s shabby indie band venues. The story that the owner of Paradox had shouted, “If this keeps up, I’ll buy a building!!” was probably no exaggeration.

How was that possible?

Suryeol let the furnace of his thoughts burn, then smothered it. A critic did not need to worry about the structure of the scene. He only needed to believe that there was a reason in the music.

“We’ll begin the performance~!”

The bassist, who had stepped to the front, called out. The music that began was a Japanese band song popular these days—the sort of song said to have gone viral on TikTok for its lively lyrics and choreography and the bizarre content of its music video.

‘Is the first song a cover?’

From the perspective of a music critic, it was a slightly disappointing choice. But for an outdoor performance that needed to draw in an audience, it was a perfect selection.

“What?”

“Is there a performance or something?”

Perhaps because the playing was more flamboyant than in the original, more people were drawn over despite the crowd already being packed shoulder to shoulder.

The couple who had been peeking in soon leaned against a tree to listen to the music, while a young man riding a skateboard stopped and craned his neck.

“Now we’d like to play our new song, the first track from the EP. Please listen to [Ashen Days].”

After several cover songs, the prerelease track finally began. The drumsticks struck four times, and the instruments rang out. The tempo was slightly slower than on the recording. The bass was more rhythmic. Had they taken out the parts they thought were excessive? Or had it been a matter of mass appeal? There was no way to know, but at least it did not seem to have been caused by a lack of skill.

Homework I never did

There is a turtle in the locker

That day, I stood in front of the snack bar

And watched a rabbit running by

A voice that seemed to murmur from far away. Had the slightly abstruse lyrics been written that way deliberately to capture the sensibility of J-rock? Even through the portable amp set up for the outdoor performance, a distant and wistful emotion was unmistakable, and it weakly enveloped him.

Suryeol raised his assessment of Group Sound by one notch. They gave off a distinctly different feeling from the middling bands that could not even reproduce their recordings and put on performances at the level of degraded copies.

Crossing a steep hill

The turtle is waiting for us

You and I, on tomorrow’s train

We bit into a snow-white apple

The rich FX heard in the recording were absent, but Suryeol did not feel their absence. Perhaps it was because the guitar and keyboard moved more actively than on the recording. By comparison… the original was plain and clean, while the live performance was sticky but rich.

The turtle left three days ago

Without knowing where it was going

When the shadow of the first snow

Comes to you once again

“Grayness, return to me.”

At the end of the song, every instrument stopped. Only the guitar, which had been playing a simple melody, brought it to a close like a monologue. Applause rang out. Suryeol realized that he, too, had been clapping unconsciously.

“Thank you for watching today’s performance. Finally, we’d like to play an unreleased song for you. We haven’t decided on a title yet.”

A small cheer rose up. When the guitarist nodded, the drummer struck the sticks four times at a rapid tempo. Then the performance began.

Unlike the low-tempo songs played so far, the BPM rose sharply. The guitar’s tone blasting through the amp was different too—a lively sound with the mid-low frequencies swept away. The drums, bass, and keyboard raced along with it.

My heart on the day I met you

Was just like a wave

Made today’s me

Move a little farther forward

The bassist’s voice was lively yet adorable. Her vocal style and lyrics suited this love-themed song perfectly.

My heart today, after meeting you

Like a paper boat on water

A little more than yesterday’s me

Keeps rocking without end

Suryeol had lived through turbulent times in Korea while holding on to his rigid convictions. His life had been combative, and rather than peaceful, it had been like weathering rough seas aboard a small boat.

Yet even for Suryeol, who had lived such a life, this song stirred a faint tickle. Somehow, he felt as if he, too, had once walked along summer streets at night with his wife, whispering words of love. As if he had once sung of his youth.

‘Of course, I married through a formal matchmaking setup.’

When they released the prerelease track, the band had said, [With this EP, we’ll sing about the emotions we can feel right now]. As he listened to [Ashen Days], Suryeol had wondered, ‘Is this really that kind of song?’ But the song completely turned his feelings around.

I now want to cross this subtle distance

I want to leap over it with you

This wavering, drifting heart

I want to give to you

“Thank you!”

When the performance ended, the bassist called out and bowed deeply. Applause poured down. The fans’ cheers mixed with passersby saying things like, “What are these girls?” and “Do you happen to know the name of this band?” For a moment, the venue became a chaotic mess.

As he left, Suryeol wondered what to call his long-form review. A New Genius Band Emerges! felt too clichéd, while A Revolution Begins in the Indie Band Scene! sounded too grand.

But Suryeol wanted to write it that way. At least for this moment.

* * *

[When it comes to the bands attracting attention in the indie scene these days, one could name quite a few, but… I would boldly place Group Sound at the very top.

A band with a history of selling out Club Paradox without a single officially released track. A band famous for having a guitarist of heavenly skill. A band whose members all possess considerable beauty.

But compared with the fame they enjoy, their actual achievements have been extremely meager. The fact that they have not released a single track officially is …

… but their arrangements and performances are excellent as well. The guitar playing is superb, yet restrained enough not to upset the balance. Though influenced by the grammar of J-rock, they do not simply follow it, instead boldly reinterpreting it in a Korean style—an audacious move for rookies. The only thing to regret is the mixing and mastering…

… after hearing this song, who could possibly think they were rookies? Guitar playing at the level of a master, with the bass, keyboard, and drums placed appropriately. I dare say that the arrival of this band in Korea’s 2024 band scene can be called a blessing.

Kim Suryeol

★★★★☆(4.5 / 5)]

“That’s extraordinarily high praise.”

Myeongjeon muttered that as they closed the internet tab. They had known their gambit would work, but they had not expected it to work this well. What had stirred Kim Suryeol’s emotions so deeply?

There had been only one thing Myeongjeon had asked Professor Chae Hokeun to do: tell Suryeol that there was going to be a live performance. That was all.

Professor Chae Hokeun had asked questions like, “Suryeol does have that habit, but… how do you know that?” Myeongjeon had brushed them aside. How could they explain it? Should they say, “I was Seo Myeongjeon in a past life, and I heard it directly from Critic Kim Suryeol”?

‘Still…’

The review was nice, but Kim Suryeol had always written scathing reviews of Myeongjeon’s albums back when they were Seo Myeongjeon. He was the sort of critic who usually gave them a 1.5 or a 2.

The lines that had stayed in Myeongjeon’s memory included [A cheap-’80s-tape melody crafted with a master’s skill] and [Playing guitar well isn’t enough]. Every time they read his reviews, they had gotten so angry that they called him. All they got for their trouble was the sound of him delivering the righteous maxim, “I’m a critic, so I’m supposed to write honestly.”

Well, that was all in the past. If the song they had released now received a 4.5, that was enough, wasn’t it?

“Suyeon! Did you see this?”

“Just saw it.”

“Amazing, amazing. Isn’t something like this going to show up in an article somewhere? It’s amazing that we’re getting something like this. It gets published in magazines, right?”

“Magazines don’t come out in print anymore. It’ll probably be posted online. Does Musica even still come out in print?”

Myeongjeon recalled memories from the Seo Myeongjeon days, which were gradually being forgotten. They remembered that such publications had come out in print through the 2000s, but they had stopped buying them after that, so they were not sure.

“They say it’s still in print. I need to stop by a bookstore after practice. I should buy a copy and keep it.”

“We’ll probably get reviewed plenty of times anyway. Do you really need to keep that?”

At Myeongjeon’s words, Iseo stared at them with an expression that clearly asked, What on earth are you talking about?? Myeongjeon wondered if they had sounded too old-fashioned, then turned away and pretended they had not said anything.

“Anyway, the EP is almost finished now. Once it’s released, another review will probably go up…”

“Then I’ll buy that one too. First single! First album! The more things we have to commemorate, the better.”

It was nice that she was so positive. In any case, all that remained was to finish the EP, handle the mixing and mastering, and release it.

‘I can’t wait for the album’s release day.’

Finding someone to handle the mixing and mastering was another problem, as was the fact that from now on they would have to run without a break. Promotion afterward would be another problem too. Even though they had reached the final stage, there were still many problems lying ahead of Myeongjeon and the others.

But Myeongjeon decided not to think about those things for now. Watching the other three laugh and chat over the review of [Ashen Days] made that decision even easier.

Anyway, wasn’t this something they were doing to enjoy themselves?

With technicolor days filling the view before them, there was no reason to deliberately let that moment pass… and then struggle to look back and revive memories of gray days.