Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler At this point, GFriend are the queens of upbeat music with nostalgic chord progressions, and Navillera certainly fits under that bracket of well--but, surprisingly enough, that isn’t what’s propelled this fantastic song so high up on the list. Navillera, more than anything else, is a masterpiece of production. It seamlessly mixes elements of synthpop, disco, rock, and even a little bit of hip hop into one giant, action-packed cornucopia. It has a grand, epic feel that few other songs manage to reach, and from a purely objective standpoint, I consider Navillera to be one of the best tracks of the countdown. Structurally, Navillera is hilariously similar to their comeback from just a few months earlier, Rough, which for some reason now gets you shot at if you admit it, but it’s true: It’s mostly driven by high-pitched strings and electric guitars, there’s a brief instrumental break after every chorus, and the chord structures are like brother and sister. (It would eat away too much time to discuss the similarities between the two songs’ chord progressions, but they're very similar.) Anyway, the point is, I like Rough, but in my opinion, Navillera does everything Rough does, but better. I prefer the progression of the chorus to Rough, as the dramatic V/i-i progression sounds much more climactic in the third bar than in the second, and it also ends in a fun and less predictable Vˢᵘˢ⁴/iv-V/iv. In terms of production detail and variety, Navillera utterly dwarfs Rough as well. This would be a problem if the dense and diverse array of sounds in Navillera had poor mixing, but the sound engineering is top-notch and evades that issue entirely. As a matter of fact, Navillera has a busier instrumental AND the percussion is heavier as well! I honestly don’t see any reason why people prefer Rough to the degree that they do, because Navillera seems like a total improvement in every respect that I can grade it on. But enough about Rough (sorry for the rhyme). Navillera is an incredible song and deserves at least a few praises without drawing any comparisons in the same breath. Although I guess I’ve inadvertently covered everything that I love so much about Navillera by now, anyway: The dramatic V/i-i progression giving some much needed tension and making the chorus more climactic; the cool Vˢᵘˢ⁴/iv-V/iv progression which is featured not only in the chorus but the pre-chorus as well, the incredible production level; a heavy beat; and a tasteful mixture of different genres. But what really seals the deal is all the little touches along the way that enhance the experience immeasurably. That first little touch is in the second chorus, where it unexpectedly strips down from its royal strings and frantic syncopated beat to just the synths and a simple four-on-the-floor bass pulse. Then the bridge comes along, and the song really starts to blossom. First it breaks into a slower hip hop beat with 808 snares and rolls, then shifts right back to its cinematic strings in an exciting build to a brief but epic electric guitar solo. The final pre-chorus starts out with no percussion, adds it back in, and then takes it right back out again for the pivotal high note, while the last chorus is more or less the same as the first, except for the strings getting even screechier, which puts the final cherry on top of the whole arrangement. Every tiny detail added along the way is what sets this song apart and squeezes it into my top 40. If every producer put as much thought and care into their tracks as Navillera, K-pop would be a far better place.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler By 2013, IU was in a somewhat precarious situation. Her 2010 comeback single, Good Day was pure magic, and rightfully launched her fame and success to astronomical levels. Her 2011 single You and I followed the same orchestral pop style and was even more successful than its predecessor, becoming one of the best-selling K-pop singles of all time. So by the time a comeback was looming in 2013, the nation had put IU in a rut, not only making her feel pressured to continue the exact same orchestral pop as her previous two hits, but she had also by that point been dubbed “Korea’s Little Sister,” which was a crown she was very uncomfortable wearing. To counteract the little sister image without causing controversy, the Modern Times album was a tasteful display of maturity and artistic growth (addressed in the Between the Lips review at #86). And to maneuver out of the rut she’d found herself in musically, she bridged a halfway point between the old-fashioned jazz of the Modern Times album, and the symphonic grandiosity of her two biggest hits. The end result pretty much became the benchmark for big band and swing music in K-pop: The Red Shoes. Like its sister track Modern Times, The Red Shoes is named after a classic movie, in this case being a 1948 British drama that was based off of a fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen. While based off of a 40’s film, the song is the most convincing take on 20’s vaudeville in all of K-pop. It has that subtle, cartoonish creepiness to it that somehow manages to perfectly capture, in sound, the way a silent movie looks. It’s by far one of the most impressive, complex, and elaborate production jobs in all of K-pop. It starts out with a soft bedding of strings, tricking the listener into thinking they’re in for yet another Good Day sequel, and then abruptly, almost maliciously, cuts it off for that Charleston-ready timpanic rhythm section. The most incredible aspect of The Red Shoes is in its authentic big band instrumentation, not just in how real it all sounds, but just how much of it there is. Throughout the span of the song, The Red Shoes incorporates a vast assortment of different trumpets, saxophones, oboes, clarinets, double bass, and pretty much any other big band instrument you can think of under the sun. Listening to it, it’s hard to believe a song of this caliber could be produced electronically (and maybe it isn’t, since this performance with live instruments sounds pretty much identical). Melodically, well… I’ve been running my mouth the entire countdown about complicated songs, and The Red Shoes is the only one that I literally gave up on making a chord analysis for. I don’t know if the swing of the rhythm is too nuanced, if I’ve got the wrong tempo, or if I’m just a moron, but I'd say the most likely of those is all of the above. The only thing I know for sure is that the harmonies are as ridiculously intricate as any top-tier jazz jazz, featuring unstable, rapid-fire chord jumps that--I’m guessing just from an untrained ear--contain everything from borrowed chords, to major and minor sevenths, to suspensions, to 9th’s, 11th’s, and 13th’s, and anything left that could possibly be in between. (Update: While ATRL was undergoing its unscheduled maintenance, I played around with it some more and it turned out easier than I thought! Check it out!) Then when it can’t get any more extravagant, the key changes in the final chorus, and the song ends in an accelerando. It’s as though every bar of the song is saying to the listener--to appropriately quote The Jazz Singer--“Wait a minute, wait a minute! You ain’t heard nothing yet!”
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler By 2017, it had become a yearly tradition in these countdowns for there to be one song where I spend half of the review gushing over a snare sample (4Minute’s Crazy and Hyuna’s Do It being the examples from the years before), and the third instance of this came in Loona’s funky bubblegum pop jewel, Love Cherry Motion. The snare in this one sounds tighter and snappier than other years, and subsequently sounds more synthetic--but sparkling plasticity is the name of the game for Love Cherry Motion, and there is no stem (pun unintended) of the production that doesn’t revel in sleek, polished artificiality. Choerry’s impossibly sunny dance track mixes bright, incandescent synth stabs with funky, intermittent slap bass, and the instrumental interacts with the erratically syncopated beat in such a way that it sounds like the two elements are exchanging the spotlight with each other. The voice samples, from the peppy “Ah! Ah!” clips to the nursery rhyme-ish falsetto runs, function the same way, sputtering according to the beat so that every last production detail gets a chance to flex its sonic muscles. Melodically, all besides the drops are as brisk and joyful as pop music gets, taking you on a roller coaster through every positive feeling possible: From enthusiastic ii-iii-IV-V-vi playfulness in the verses; to softer, more ambient IV⁷-iii⁷-vi⁷-I-IV⁷, iii⁷-♭III⁷-ii⁷ euphoria in the pre-choruses; to a celestial IV-V¹¹-iii-vi, IV-V¹¹-iii-V/ii mellowness during the choruses. The darker post-chorus drops are handled remarkably well, straying far enough from the original sound that they jump out at the listener and prevent the song from getting stale, while paradoxically sounding as though they belong and--most importantly--sounding necessary. While the first drop is nothing particularly special to write home about, the second one is the main event, and the high point of the entire song. Significantly longer than the first drop, the second drop is composed of two halves, both completely on V/ii, with sexy Arabic synth strings in the first half, followed by one of the coolest and catchiest vocal earworms in the entire top 100. Love Cherry Motion doesn’t have as much novelty or depth as the last few songs, but to me, it’s one of very few tracks that can showcase K-pop at its purest form without making me sick: It has sharp, pristine production value, well-executed surprises and unpredictability, bubbly high energy, and it’s so unbelievably catchy that, in some parts, you just can’t help but smile.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler With their success really starting to climb in 2011 with the rather basic Hot Summer, and scoring their signature hit in 2012 with the straightforward Electric Shock, anybody would have assumed that f(x)’s “Weird” identity was slowly being stripped away from them. Then, in July of 2013, they came roaring back with what was by far their most bizarre song yet--a song that lyrically BRAGS about how weird they are. In Rum Pum Pum Pum, f(x) analogizes themselves to wisdom teeth. Yes, you read that correctly. “I’m a bit different. I pushed aside all the others, and took my place.” It isn’t as instantly catchy as past singles, and can make for a pretty jarring first listen, which is surprising, considering there are no drastic shifts in structure (which was all the rage in 2013). Instrumentally, it’s about as uniform as a pop song can get, with a tense slide guitar melody that literally just repeats the same two notes for the entire duration of the song. All of Rum Pum Pum Pum’s merits lie in the dynamic percussion and its cornucopia of outstanding vocal harmonies. Pitchfork reviewer Jakob Dorof really put it best when he said, “Virtually every moment of the song features a compositional quirk worthy of scrutiny.” While it starts off suspiciously soft, it’s quick to throw you into a violent, thrashing beat, followed by a light marching band rhythm in the pre-chorus that accompanies the most distinct and most talked-about moment of the song: The vocal round. If you’re unfamiliar with it, the vocal round is a tricky harmonic technique that involves a group of people singing the same melody at slightly different times, which in practice sounds similar to opening three different computer tabs and playing the same song in each one. If it all falls under the same chord, however, it will harmonize no matter what (the most well-known example of a vocal round is Row, Row, Row Your Boat). Keep in mind, all this happens before the first chorus. The rest of the song remains just as action-packed throughout, with exotic hand drums and Samba elements in the bridge, guitar-heavy rap breaks, a dance break that emulates the sound of tap dancers, and subtle electronic bass wobbles in the final chorus. And, even without the vocal round, Rum Pum Pum Pum’s vocal harmonies are practically athletic, making it a gleeful demonstration of one of the main factors that drew me into K-pop in the first place. Red Light, of course, will always be my favorite song on a subjective level--not just from f(x), but, you know, period. The Pink Tape era, however, and Rum Pum Pum Pum in particular, is what I consider f(x) at their objective peak. This was the culmination of years' worth of trying to strike the perfect balance between hipster-y, wonky pop, and catchy, digestible dance bangers. It’s infectious, easy to follow, straightforward on the surface, and yet has those little timeless quirks that make all the difference. This is f(x) at their purest, and to me, it’s what they could have, and should have, always been.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler Alright, so I’m kind of pissed that I wasn’t able to cram it into the top 30, because I absolutely adore this song, and have a sentimental attachment to it in the way a child gets attached to a teddy bear. I guess I could say that about every song at this point, though. Of all the jazz-influenced material in the top 100, Modern Times feels the most pure and authentic. If the audio quality was lower and had some record-spinning crackles added to it, you could probably convince somebody that it’s actually from the 1920's. Part of that authenticity comes from the fact that Modern Times is very minimalistic. It opens up with a bouncy ragtime piano melody and, well… that’s pretty much what drives the entire song. During the jazz age, heavy percussion like we’re accustomed to today only drowned out the instrumentation, so drummers created a technique called feathering--only lightly stroking the bass drum to give the music a very faint pulse, without muddying up the rest of the song. While most swing-inspired tracks today incorporate a heavier beat, Modern Times stays true to the era, and features the lightest bass kick in the entire top 100. The rhythm rises to prominence only through the light hi-hats and rhythmic piano chords, just like in traditional jazz. Tonally, Modern Times is one of the lightest, happiest songs in the countdown. The chorus is a simple and jolly I-V/ii-ii-V, I-V/ii-ii-IV⁷-I tune that’s bolstered by an animated assortment of brasses, ranging from deep, warm tubas, to tinny, high-pitched trumpet riffs. The pre-chorus houses my favorite part of the song, starting off with a wistful I-V/vi progression that injects an element of bittersweetness to the track. The slight hint of nostalgia in some of Modern Times’ chords makes its unrelenting jubilance feel 100% organic and heartfelt, and it’s simply beautiful to listen to. Modern Times, of course, is the name of one of Charlie Chaplin’s most famous movies, centering on his iconic “Tramp” character struggling to survive in an increasingly industrialized world. Throughout the film, he’s jobless, homeless, running from the law, and endlessly struggling in every way during The Great Depression, all with a cheerful, positive attitude. At the end of the movie, his companion laments that there’s no hope for them, and he assures her as they walk towards the sunrise that somehow, some way, they’ll make it after all. IU’s tribute song captures that feeling of being happy against all odds. As one of the nation’s biggest--and undoubtedly overworked--stars, in one of the most fast-paced, exhausting, competitive entertainment industries in the world, it’s probable that IU feels like a restless cog in the vast, chaotic factory that is K-pop. Modern Times, which lyrically reads as a love letter to Charlie Chaplin, sounds like a testament to the high-spirited determination that keeps IU’s wheels spinning no matter what. All of that uplifting energy is channeled into this gleefully nostalgic track, and it makes for, what I consider, one of the most lovable jazz songs of the decade.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler Oh, boy. Finally time to talk about the STELLAR situation. The story behind Marionette is certainly an infamous one, isn’t it? On the surface, Marionette is a song about being lead on in a relationship by somebody who treats you poorly, tugging you around like a marionette. But then you look at the rest of the context, and Marionette is potentially one of the darkest K-pop songs ever released. Marionette gained nationwide controversy before it was even released back in February of 2014, being promoted as an edgier, sexier era that went way too far. It all started with a Facebook game that the group’s agency created as pre-release promotional material: the fans liked posts on STELLAR's official fanpage, and the likes unlocked photos of… the ladies’ body parts. It was essentially like a cyber strip show. The more likes you threw at them, the more they exposed. This immediately led to fan discomfort about sexual exploitation, and STELLAR’s agency put out a statement that only fueled the fire: The strip game tied into the concept of the song, of having no free will and doing whatever your puppet master wants you to do… you know, like a sex slave. Then the music video was released and caused an even bigger ruckus, instantly being restricted to viewers 18+ due to its suggestive imagery and provocative choreography, as well as being banned from television, and promotional performances on music shows having to be substantially toned down. STELLAR, who had been flopping considerably, had finally gotten people talking, and the end result was their highest charting and best-selling single ever. Marionette, sonically, is a pretty dark song, with icy synths and harsh electric guitar riffs. It’s produced by the genius Sweetune and their funky basslines and rock undertones are all there, but it’s up there with a very similar Sweetune song, KARA’s Pandora, in terms of moodiness. The composition is a wasteland of bleak diminished chords and somber sevenths, with the VI⁷-V/i-i⁷-viiøᵃᵈᵈ⁹/VII, iv-ii°-V⁷/i pre-choruses standing out as particularly angsty. The chorus starts out with a more basic i-iv-VII-III⁷ progression in the first four bars, but descends back into madness with a dramatic VI⁷-iv-V/i-V⁷/i-i in the second half. And that dark undertone fits the song once you look at the whole package: Marionette started out being a song about a bad romance, and coincidentally morphed into something much more sinister. In the song, STELLAR lyrically degrades themselves, calling themselves stupid, sad, and reducing themselves to a joke. “Look at me, a sad doll, tied under a string,” “A doll in pain, being torn by you,” “Tell me, am I a joke to you?” “The more I fight against it, the more I get tangled up,” and worst of all, “When you touch me, I accept it.” These miserably submissive lyrics combined with the vulgar choreography and exploitative imagery are ironically fitting for STELLAR’s position in the K-pop industry at the time: Puppets, being played with by a higher power who objectified them. In the end, the most important thing is that Marionette is a fantastic song that would have been fantastic no matter the circumstances surrounding its release. It’s one of Sweetune’s greatest creations and when you think about it, it was actually very nice for them to give it to an unknown group like STELLAR. For the majority of the fans, the song is marred by the degeneracy that bloomed in association with it, and they prefer to compartmentalize the rose of the song from the thorns of its promotion (as I try to do with Vibrato, another excellent STELLAR song). But for me, I try turning the STELLAR legacy into something that can enhance the listening experience of Marionette. It’s not like it was a happy song to begin with. Take everything else into account, and Marionette is one of the saddest K-pop songs ever made, and as such, one of the most painful and emotionally effective. The dark soundscape, the dire chord progressions, the disturbing lyrics, and the explicit imagery combine to create one of the most unsettling and intense girl group songs of the decade, and in a twisted, gothic way, it’s kind of poetic. If you ask me, Marionette isn’t beautiful in spite of its thorns--it’s beautiful because of them.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler There have been, and there will be, several songs in the countdown classified as “Universally likable.” These are songs that have an abnormal ratio of people who like the song or at least respect it, and an abnormally small number of people who dislike it. But, of all the examples of this phenomenon in the rate (Sexy Love, Airplane, etc.), STEP may just be the king of them all. For starters, STEP has one of the heaviest and most well-mixed beats in the whole countdown. The thick bass kick is textbook audio perfection; the hard, thrashing, heavily-reverberated 80’s snare-clap sample is one of the greatest percussion samples of the decade; and together, they carry nearly the entire song on their backs. Every other element is sound engineering at its finest as well--the rainbowishly colorful synth stabs; the rich, shiny disco strings; the sludgy electronic bassline; the funky bassline; and the edgier, distorted electric guitars. It’s classic Sweetune through and through, and one of his most quintessential works. Melodically, STEP follows one of the most common pop chord progressions in existence: i-VI-III-VII, and at least 50% of the song (probably a lot more than that, I can’t do math) is just this pattern on a continuous loop, alternating to VI-VII-i-III for the pre-chorus and just repeating the i chord for a whole measure during the portamento synth-y rap. Somehow, the generic, repetitive simplicity of the melody doesn’t hurt the song at all. In fact, it’s partially why STEP is so easy to love. The production is so action-packed that the chord progression is never boring. But STEP takes one extra precaution to keep itself fresh: After the synth-y rap bridge just mentioned, it ascends a half step to Gm, which puts a whole new coat of paint on the track. It’s still playing exactly the same chord progression, but the key change makes all the difference, and STEP possesses one of the most effective and satisfying final choruses in the top 100. There’s really not much more you can say about STEP. You really just have to listen to it, and hear just how exquisitely it’s produced, to understand its acclaim. This was the runner-up during the 2015 ATRL rate, it’s one of the most beloved K-pop songs in history, and it can be found under just about any “Greatest K-pop Songs of All Time” list. It’s a tried and true K-pop standard--the kind that I can picture still being listened to and appreciated just as much in the next decade as it was in this one. It’s instantly catchy while having awe-inspiring longevity, it’s iconic, it’s timeless, and while not as high up on the list as I’d like for it to be, it’s indisputably a K-pop classic.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler GAIN, along with her home group Brown Eyed Girls, has always been one of the most reliably experimental artists in all of K-pop. From songs like Sixth Sense and Brave New World, to her universally acclaimed tango EP in 2010, most projects that GAIN touches end up turning weird. But nothing before or since has ever been quite as alternative, avant-garde, and un-poppy as what is arguably the darkest song in the countdown, the demonic Paradise Lost. And “Demonic” isn’t much of an exaggeration, no matter how you slice it: Similarly to her Step 2/4 EP, the Hawwah EP that features Paradise Lost sticks to an overarching concept, and in this case, that overarching concept is sin. Through various biblical imagery and metaphors (including songs with titles like Apple and Free Will), the Hawwah (hebrew for Eve) EP deals with themes such as temptation, sexuality, mind and body duality, and independence. In short, the album is GAIN’s perspective on the story of Adam and Eve, reinterpreting Eve not as a villain, but as a woman who chose free will and autonomy over paradise, and a celebration that we as human beings have the free will to choose our own paths in life. But Paradise Lost sounds far from celebratory. That’s what the separate title track, the upbeat, jazzy Apple, is for. Paradise Lost is about the dark side of sin: Guilt, ridicule, and oppression. At the climax of the song, GAIN hauntingly whispers, “They’re making up a story so that they can control you and me.” This isn’t attacking religion so much as it is attacking its intentional misuse to promote shame and division. Of course, none of this would matter if I didn’t enjoy the actual music, and I do. Paradise Lost is a somehow cohesive amalgamation of trap snares and 808’s; sharp, dingy basslines; rich, glissando strings; steel guitars; and, the crux of the instrumental, haunted pipe organs. And the pipe organs aren’t just window dressing--they’re used as authentically and dynamically as a genuine horror movie organ repertoire. The song opens with a harsh, unpleasant i-VI-V⁷/i-i, V/VII-III-VI-V/i-i progression in the first epic organ break of the track, then cools down for a more pensive III-VII-VI⁷-V/i for the verses, and a dreamy V/iv-V/v-i-V/VII pre-chorus. Then comes the closest thing resembling a hook in the chorus, with an intense i-III-VI-Vˢᵘˢ⁴/VII-V/VII progression that also composes the big, climactic bridge. And that’s really what makes the whole song: After the aforementioned “They’re making up a story” line, Paradise Lost culminates in an even darker, more chaotic, more maniacal pipe organ solo than the one in the intro, and it’s one of the most dramatic and impressive musical moments of the decade. The final chorus is spiced up by an onslaught of awesome beat skips and stop-time alterations, along with GAIN’s wailing ad-libs, and with one final, more somber organ recital, Paradise Lost slithers to a haunting finish. Paradise Lost is a song that works on all possible levels. Not just compositionally and sonically, not just vocally and melodically, but lyrically and conceptually. It has one of the ballsiest and most unique themes ever tackled in K-pop, and it feels like it comes from a genuine place, rather than done only for attention. Any artist can have a dark or sexy concept, but a song dedicated to taking aim at religious prejudice? Who else would do that but a member of my beloved Brown Eyed Girls? No, K-pop is not meant for material like this, and I’m not kidding myself into thinking K-pop is any deeper than it actually is. But why shouldn’t that be all the more reason to praise it in the rare moments when it does goes beyond catchy dance music? Paradise Lost is K-pop on a different level, showing off the rare glimpse of what the industry is capable of, and I consider it one of the greatest artistic K-pop feats of the decade.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler Is there any song from a girl group as instantly recognizable as the legendary I Am the Best? And this is perfectly earned. I Am the Best contains the absolute sharpest bassline that my ears have ever had the pleasure of hearing, and the fact that it’s the first thing that enters your ears upon pressing play makes it instantly iconic. I Am the Best was the second girl group song that I ever bought, when my best friend linked it to me back in December of 2011. It was the kind of song that he, knowing me like a book, knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would fall in love with: A dramatic, hard-edged electronic dance banger with boundless energy, charisma, and attitude. The production is fantastic, with the aforementioned sharp, distorted bassline sliding around in an awesome portamento glide; a thick, mid-heavy bass kick that, like most great electro-house, runs at 128 BPM; exotic, high-pitched synths; and an erratic middle eastern strings section. Of course that isn’t the only middle eastern influence I Am the Best has: the song melodically seems to be set under Phrygian mode (I don't know **** about modes though so don't hold me to that)--not just near the end when it goes full on Arabian, but in the first two choruses/drops as well. Furthermore, the excessive pitch-bending of the bassline has a vague middle eastern feel to it as well, where microtones are more common. The demented sound of all the augmented and diminished notes in the instrumental of the choruses is by far my favorite part, giving the track a darker, more urgent edge that offsets the peppier, cheerier verses. The chantiness that makes up most of the vocals, and the actual lyrical content of those chants (the hook and choruses just being “I am the best” repeated over and over again), makes I Am the Best feel like somebody sampled a series of sassy schoolyard taunts and laid it over an instrumental for a drag show, and it’s just so much fun. Also of note is that, before BTS and Blackpink officially unleashed the can of K-pop worms internationally, I Am the Best was probably one of the most well-known K-pop songs in the US (besides Gangnam Style, obviously): It was featured prominently in an episode of The Bachelor as well as So You Think You Can Dance, became the first K-pop song to be added to the Xbox Kinect’s Dance Central series, and finally--three years after its release--began gaining airplay in the US after being used in a commercial for the Microsoft Surface Pro. Even during the 2015 ATRL rate, I Am the Best stood out effortlessly and triggered the most memorable moment of the whole rate, causing meltdowns after being sabotaged and eliminated at a measly #35. This song was simply always in people’s mouths. It’s fiery, funny, excellently produced, badass, and as we head into the 2020’s, one of K-pop’s most iconic classics.
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 (edited) Spoiler ^ That's unreadable. I had a hard time with that one. And also this song isn't even electro-swing. Only the intro is swung. I put electro-swing because it fit perfectly in the piano key fjkhkdjhfkjahkj At the beginning of their career, MAMAMOO were the queens of all things retro-pop, from their debut with Mr. Ambiguous, to the powerhouse Decalcomanie. Their magnum opus, however, was their first comeback in November of 2014, with the dusky, mysterious Piano Man. Piano Man ascends to brilliance right off the bat, with Hwasa’s sultry voice flirting with the listener in English over an i-IIIsus2-V7/VII-V+/i piano progression that sounds straight out of a sexy piano bar scene in a 40’s film noir. “Hey, piano man,” she huskily moans before the track pulls you even further back in time with a repetitive (but unfortunately brief) i-ic ragtime solo. The verses are notably funkier than the rest of the track, with a cartoon-ish, pitch-bent trumpet sample and stock brass stings that echo the 90’s swag of new jack swing more than anything from the classical jazz age. This is actually a welcome change as it gives the song more of a tonal variety and prevents it from droning on and becoming stale. It goes right back to its shadier tone for the pre-choruses though, bringing back in the simple i-III-V/VII-V/i progression with a nice chromatic vocal ascension. The chorus, despite not being much different instrumentally from the verses, is much more climactic, and that’s all thanks to what’s going on vocally. Piano Man’s choruses are where MAMAMOO’s signature bluesy vocals really get to play. On top of that, the choruses feel busier and more intense due to its being embellished by a load of passing tones in the vocal melody. Some seventh chords lead back into the hook, which is accented now by dramatic breaks in the beat, and sounds much more urgent than before. Basically, Piano Man only works because of all the minor adjustments and idiosyncrasies it includes, and if it had been created by even slightly less talented hands, it wouldn’t be the remarkable song that it is. For instance: The second verse is cut in half compared to the first, and this keeps the momentum going. Also, I love the fact that it goes all meta and references their debut song (“Hey, Mr. Aemaemoho”), which made their discography at that point feel even more cohesive. To kick off the bridge, there’s an obligatory rap verse which, surprisingly enough, doesn’t stop the song in its tracks, and stands out as one of the better executed raps in the countdown. Of course, it pales in comparison to the real bridge, which reverts back to the i-III-V/VII-V/i hook, only with a new set of soulful ad-libs. Unexpectedly, the hook changes key to Bm, and altogether the ladies croon, “We are MAMAMOO,” as if to say, “Yeah, we just did that because we can,” and finally lead into the spectacular final chorus. Similarly to the rest of the songs in the countdown with key changes, Piano Man manages to make the listener feel as though, up until the last chorus, they’d been listening to the song in the “Wrong” key, and thus it feels like the perfect resolution. With that impressive feat, Piano Man concludes as a total slam dunk. Anything retro, as is evident by now, is lapped up by me, and Piano Man stands out as one of the all-time greats. Edited January 3, 2020 by Red Light
Red Light Posted December 20, 2019 Author Posted December 20, 2019 Spoiler Spoiler With GAIN, 2ne1, and MAMAMOO out, IU losing two songs tonight, and only 30 songs left, we now have nothing but a bunch of first-place-ties among the artists who still have two songs. Girl's Day remain the only artist to have 100% health! TOMORROW NIGHT: An inevitable massacre, weird genres galore, and my "Mystery group" is finally unmasked!
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Starting in a few minutes! Tagging people who might be interested: @Red Light
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Kicking things off with the reveal of the mystery group! Spoiler Alright: Yes, I know Sunny Hill during the Midnight Circus era had a male member, but there are multiple reasons I’m making an exception for this song. First and foremost being the fact that, well, he gets no lines in this song. You can hear his voice basically providing backup vocals right before the chorus, and that’s the only ounce of testosterone that you can find. In addition to that, Sunny Hill has been an all-female group on multiple occasions, and even when they weren’t, the ladies outnumbered the gentleman by like four-to-one. Lastly, Midnight Circus is such an exceptional song that it deserves, well… exception. The production is as harsh and abrasive as the song itself, and the audio mixing is certainly a bit frustrating to try and sift through, but it has one of the best excuses for this drawback in the book: the instruments are live. The beat, from what I can tell, is electronically programmed (and as such stands out as the most well-mastered sound stem in the instrumental), and the vocals were distorted with special synth effects, but all the instrumentation outside of that is totally authentic: churlish piano riffs, jazzy acoustic basslines. orchestral hits, pizzicatos, trumpet stings, electric guitar accents, and the song’s most prized feature--a psychedelic Hammond organ that sounds like it was borrowed straight out of 96 Tears. All of these elements and more pop in and out in dizzying, transient bursts; perfectly capturing the exhausting, haphazard variety of an old-timey circus. That said, Midnight Circus wouldn’t be half as head-spinning as it is without its madcap melodic structure, hopping back and forth between i and V⁷/VII or V⁷ˢᵘˢ²/VII every two beats in four different keys during the verses, while the choruses fire out a topsy-turvy i-Vᵃᵈᵈ⁶/VII-VII-III-VI-IV/VI-V/i-V⁷/i, i-VII-III-VI-IV/VI-ii°-V⁷/i. The bridge makes way for a more gentle, digestible i⁷-VI⁷-V⁷/VII, i⁷-VI⁷-V/iv reprieve, but end up being the most psychotic and possessed (and coolest) segment of the track, as the vocals get glitched out and reversed until sounding like unintelligible whispers from hell. Appropriate, since the lyrics actually mention being possessed. By what, exactly? The lyrics are cryptic, but I take it as being possessed by applause and being addicted to performing. The lyrics are basically all about the lengths they’ll go to for positive feedback from an audience, likening it to a prison with no bars (aka voluntary) and even portraying themselves as real-life puppets in the music video. Speaking of the video, Midnight Circus also happens to be my favorite music video of the decade. The aesthetics are awesomely creepy, and it’s not overloaded with story, but it still has enough going on that it sends a message which enhances the experience of the song... and that message is pretty blatantly about the K-pop industry. In the video, a ringmaster uses some kind of magic to transform animals into human circus performers, but still treats them like animals--keeping them in cages and commanding them with whips. K-pop unfortunately has a similar system, usually recruiting potential idols at a very young age for an incredibly harsh and strict training system; sometimes undergoing these conditions for nearly a decade. The idols that manage to debut don’t have it any better: WJSN, a group that’s been around since 2016, still has yet to actually make a single dime. Even the groups who find great success rarely live luxuriously like western idols, usually living in cheap apartments. The “Highlight of the show” moment, where the ladies of Sunny Hill are hoisted up in the air and hanged for the entertainment of the audience, shows the expendability of a K-pop idol’s position in the industry. No matter how hard you work and no matter how much money you make for an agency, if a ringmaster decides to cut you, you’re dead. Finally, it can’t be overlooked that the only male member of the group plays the creepy, abusive ringmaster, hinting at the cruel exploitation of female idols in particular. Nonetheless, they lock themselves in the prison with no bars because they live for performing and pleasing their fans. In the last chorus, they realize the pointlessness and emptiness of their own work: “There was no one in this lightened place; I was crying alone all this time on an empty stage.” I’m not sure there’s ever been a more explicit song about the K-pop industry, and it’s actually kind of incredible that it ever got released. STELLAR’s Marionette (#35) possibly hinted at the same themes, but Midnight Circus does no hinting. It’s a psychotic masterpiece of frenetic energy and chaos, painting a disturbing picture of the industry’s most sinister aspects, and it’s absolutely brilliant. Don’t ask me what’s up with the old accordion dude, though.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler While I was drawn to K-pop in the first place because of BoA’s fierce electropop tracks like Dangerous (#46), strange and artsy tracks like Clockwork are the reason that I’ve stayed for so long. Clockwork is one of those songs that I can vividly remember listening to for the first time, and that rare feeling of complete and utter awe that formed as the song progressed. BoA’s angsty, neurotic take on ballroom tango music is not only one of the most original and unexpected songs I’ve heard over the decade, but its overall mood and chord progressions happen to fit my music taste like a glove. One of the most strategically produced songs in the countdown, Clockwork is a master class in tension and suspense. It instantly ropes you in with a sly, mysterious bass strum; sudden, dramatic glockenspiel strikes; sparse string stabs; and of course, BoA’s soft, brooding vocals. This is soon joined by an increasingly urgent, screeching violin sample that seamlessly leads into the first chorus, and that’s where the real fun begins: The beat finally kicks in (with a very nice, thick handclap sample), BoA’s vocals get more shrill and expressive, and best of all, a deep backing of strings slowly descend in intense semitones. And the dramatic nature of that melody couldn’t be more at home than it is in Clockwork, particularly once it starts getting accented by a screechier set of staccato strings that sound straight out of a neo-classical playbook. The first post-chorus is when the tango feel really starts to set in, with an epic violin sequence overtop sinister, low-pitched piano chords. The second verse is notably shorter, which works out perfectly, as a verse as long as the first would have done nothing but ruin the momentum. Clockwork’s second verse adds just enough extra anticipation to ensure that the second chorus is just as explosive as the first, and this time it comes with a surprise bonus that shoots the track to new heights: The second post-chorus is completely separate from the first, modifying the syncopated rhythm to a pounding four-on-the-floor beat in tandem with BoA’s neurosis reaching a fever pitch--the psychotic i-V/i progression that made the choruses of Red Light so calamitous are back with a vengeance… as a matter of fact, BoA’s vocal melody (where she desperately cries out in English, “I’m trying to be with you, I’m dying to be with you”) is almost exactly the same as in Red Light, only in C#m and channeled into the soundscapes of a chaotic ballroom orchestra. Naturally, when I first heard this part, my head was already spinning--but that’s not even the high point of the song. The high point of Clockwork is the bridge, where it leaps into a full-fledged tango dance break--the frantic violin bowing into outright mayhem; a more complex, broken beat; devastating blasts of howling orchestral hits; and all the other elements of the instrumental coming together, independent of any vocal interference. This all gets drastically cut off by a foreboding, low-pitched drone, accompanied by BoA’s shaky, desperate vocals, and finally builds up to one of the most frenzied last choruses ever, with a chilling, anguished falsetto run from BoA that delivers that perfect final punch in the gut. With that, and one last deranged post-chorus, the Queen of K-pop manages to land herself in my top 30 songs of the decade.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler Don’t ask me what I was thinking when I placed this so low in the 2017 countdown. Talk about a song aging like wine. Red Velvet’s Hear the Sea, which found itself at #68 for the decade, was only one spot below Loonatic in the original rate, meaning that, if my year-end placements stayed consistent, Loonatic would be somewhere in the 70’s at best. On top of that, 2017 has grown to become one of my favorite years in K-pop, as I found multiple songs after the year was over that have come to place ahead of Hear the Sea (such as Kiss Later at #63 and I Knew It at #51). But, in spite of the competition only getting way fiercer than it ever originally was back in 2017, Loonatic has only gained more affection from me, and landed itself in the top 30 (ahead of some serious classics like Piano Man, I Am the Best, and STEP)! As far as K-pop girl groups go, Loonatic is by and large one of the most experimental tracks ever released, being the only female K-pop song of its kind (shoegaze) that I know of at the moment. And, if there are any others, they’ll have a hard time matching up to Loonatic in its glorious, dizzying trippiness. Shoegaze, for a brief summation, is a psychedelic rock genre defined by its distinct “Wall of noise” overproduction; earning its name back in the early 90’s from the live performers who had to focus their eyes down on their effects pedals. LOONA is commendable in their sheer faith to this, as Loonatic is composed of distant, opaque, fever dream-ish falsettos that get drowned out in a cacophony of jangly, distorted guitars; fizzling basslines; synths running the gamut from deep wobbles to ethereal pads; heavily syncopated, trebley percussion; and dissonant echo effects. Loonatic is a prime example of what make K-pop so interesting and what keeps it so exciting, where catchy pop tunes and avant-garde wonkiness collide to create something novel and lovable. The producer, G-High (part of the MonoTree production unit that I worship) created it at the label’s request for a song that sounded like Western pop artist Grimes, only treated with a bright K-pop twist. Granted, Loonatic is far from being any kind of instantly catchy bubblegum pop--the V/vi-V-I-IV-V/iii progression in the chorus sounds pretty bizarre, especially the IV-V/iii bar. The vocal melody in particular is hard to keep track of, with rapid leaps from A to F, a flat from F to E which makes the subsequent Eb chord totally unexpected, and best of all, a demented chromatic ascent from A to F. It’s full-on sonic madness, and the lyrics--which include proclamations denying such madness (flat-out saying “I am not insane” in English)--make it all the more schizophrenic. In the end, Loonatic sounds like one big, dreamy blur, and stands out as one of the freakiest and most ambitious K-pop songs of all time. With this foggy, disorienting, delirious mess, LOONA distinguish themselves as the only post-2015 girl group to hold two spots in the top 30.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler It’s appropriate that Hush is coming in exactly 10 places after Rum Pum Pum Pum, as they’re fundamentally two of the most similar songs in the countdown: Both are world-influenced acoustic uptempos (with Rum Pum Pum Pum having more of an Indian vibe and Hush having more of a latin one), and both are almost solely driven by their outstanding vocal harmonies. There’s also a similarity in the strength and sharpness of their percussion, only with one major difference setting the two apart--Hush hardly has any percussion until the second half of the song. One of the most minimalistic tracks in the rate, Hush is a grower in practically every sense of the word--it’s a song that takes a few listens to really start getting into, and it’s a song that starts out bare and grows in richness and intensity the longer that it progresses. There’s one acoustic rhythm guitar that makes up almost the entire instrumental, along with some mild piano and whistle accents, but the rest of the track depends almost entirely on the beat and the earworming hook. There’s definitely a distinct latin influence in Hush, with a very busy, intricate rhythm section consisting of bongo drums and shakers. Of course, the song doesn’t really take off until the second verse, when the more conventional electronic beat starts to sink in. If the percussion samples in Hush were weak or unremarkable, it would be a pretty boring, anticlimactic song, but both the sharp bass kick and the clean, walloping snare lashes enhance the song exponentially, with the well-mixed kick sample in particular being one of my favorites of the decade. So finally, after building up a good minute and a half of tension, installing a heavier beat while still retaining its exotic hand drum accents, and a repetitive, infectious harmonic vocal triad, Hush explosively intensifies. Just before the second chorus, there’s an awesome, sinister VI-V/i-V/#vii°-V/i guitar switchup that virtually tells the listener “**** is about to get real,” and even though it only lasts for one bar, it’s one of the most effective single bars in all of K-pop and one of my favorite musical moments of the decade. After that, Hush maintains a plateau, with a final chorus that’s satisfying and climactic while yet still leaving you hungry for more. I can understand why there are some people who don’t like it--the whole song is practically one big tease, and a true, unadulterated pay-off that warrants the track’s unbearable tension feels just barely out of reach. But, unlike other songs that attempt that same structure, Hush feels more strategic and more fluid. It’s climactic enough to not be utterly maddening, but subtle enough that it has a very addictive component. Thus, with its excellent production and inordinate addictiveness, Hush has had a superlative longevity since its release in 2013, and these merits have managed to squeeze the depressingly underrated Miss A into my top 30.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler As has been noted a billion times by now, in spite of Orange Caramel’s “Candy culture” group concept (cute, colorful, youthful)--which they certainly live up to in their music videos, vocals, and fashions--the actual music they put out during their five year run from 2010-2015 was marked by distinctly theatrical sting-driven productions and cogent secondary chords. The puzzling contrast between Orange Caramel’s concepts/visuals and the moodiness of their melodies was particularly noted in their last elimination, So Sorry at #45, but the all-time most extreme disparity between the Orange Caramel look and sound happened right at the beginning of their career: An unbelievably intense song with an unbelievably childish fairy tale concept called Aing; a shiveringly dramatic spin on traditional Korean trot music. In fact, the visual-sonic dissonance is so great that I still wonder if the whole thing was one big parody. For one thing, Aing is one of the most melodically impressive songs in the countdown. The chord progression of the chorus alone looks daunting: i-iv⁷-VII-III⁷-VI⁷-ii°-V/i-VI for the first half, and i-iv⁷-VII-III⁷-VI⁷-ii°-V/i-V/i for the second. At first glance, the second half looks identical to the first half except in the last bar. But it certainly sounds a lot different--because each of Aing’s choruses have a key modulation in the second half. Keep in mind, this is after already changing key once from B minor to C minor for the first half. To transition between this rapid sequence of key changes, it uses its classical, ominous V/i-VI step as a tension-building break. And, despite the last bar of the chorus being a repeat of the chord before it, it doesn’t sound static in the least, as the lead melody falls from G# down each remaining note of the C# minor scale until landing on the home key. Instrumentally, Aing is almost totally orchestral, which is fitting, considering what a complex music sheet it would make. Actually, the only sound stem I hear that doesn’t try to mimic an acoustic instrument is the insanely effective electric guitar licks. The beat stands out as the only obvious modern component: The programmed 148 BPM percussion is clean as a whistle, and heavy enough to make Aing actually danceable, with a particularly harsh handclap sample fit for a stadium. That’s not to paint it in a falsely simple impression, though--the beat is just as unstable as the rest of the track, going through all sorts of breaks and fills to punctuate the cinematic lunacy of the chords and strings. Orange Caramel’s catalog is a treasure trove of theatrical melodies and synth strings, but Aing is on a totally different level. From its moody, complex melodies, to its histrionic key changes, to its howling strings, to its menacing “La lala la lala la” hook, Aing is as theatrical as pop music can possibly get. For that reason, in spite of its being one of the oldest songs on the list--released all the way back in November of 2010--Aing has beat out nearly 80% of the decade and earned the incredible placement of #26.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler Alright, let’s see how many wind-related puns I can cram in during the length of this review! After the foggy remorse of their 2015 comeback Closer (which is part of the top 25), Oh My Girl pulled a 180 with the fluffy but relatively unremarkable hip hop tune Liar, Liar, followed then by a rerelease led off by this breezy (1) acoustic confection. Windy Day is a huge proponent of many of the qualities that made me fall in love with K-pop: It’s dizzyingly quirky and experimental without so much as a hint of pretension; the sound engineering is clean as a whistle (2… hey, wind whistles); the exquisite vocal harmonies are to die for; it has more than enough twists and turns to keep it from growing stale; and as a bonus, it incorporates my favorite chord progression--the “25 or 6 to 4” descending tetrachord. Fundamentally, Windy Day draws influence from a whole host of different genres, ranging from easy, strummy folk-pop to the bright, bubblegummy dance-pop of the choruses to sudden, intense gusts (3) of Arabic pop. Instrumentally, Windy Day is one of the most supremely mastered songs on the countdown, from its light, palmy (4) acoustic guitar to its noisy, stamping percussion to its exotic sitars. Beyond its brisk (5) audio mixing, Windy Day is also a seamless whirlwind (6) of sonic diversity, blowing (7) you from one sonic destination to the next as smoothly as possible. It starts off with gentle mid-tempo acoustics before slowing down to shades of a soft rock ballad for the pre-chorus, which makes the immediate soaring (8) into the chorus all the more climactic. The choruses are a playground of complex vocal harmonies and driving percussion, featuring, among other things, the descending tetrachord I mentioned above as the song’s prized VII-VI-IIIb-♭V-V/VII hook. I’m not going to say Windy Day is in Locrian mode, because I know absolutely nothing about modes or how they work (and I don't actually think it is), but I will say that, for some weird reason, there are multiple borrowed chords in Windy Day’s composition that I could only find using the Locrian scale. Then comes the pivotal moment that would make the worst song in the world worth listening to, much less one already as enchanting as Windy Day: A post-chorus break composed of middle eastern fiddles and sitars, appropriately playing an exotic double harmonic melody. All in all, Windy Day is a light and variable (9) joyride of gleeful sonic diversity, and one of the most refreshing pieces of pop magic to ever grace the world of K-pop. With its top-notch production value and boundless quirkiness, Oh My Girl sealed themselves as one of the most bohemian and regale-ing girl groups of the new generation. Sorry about that last pun. My OCD dictated that I needed 10.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler By 2012 (by far one of the best years in K-pop, if you ask me), I was totally in the throes of K-pop fever with no hope of recovery, yet I was still trying to balance my new fascination along with my old commitment to western pop. But there were three songs released that summer that made me totally convert from western to eastern pop without a single thought or reservation: one of them will be the very next elimination; another has awhile to go before getting the boot. The other one was Pandora. Whenever the wonderful and sorely missed KARA collaborated with the brilliant production unit Sweetune, it always made for one of K-pop’s most magical partnerships. KARA and Sweetune practically created their own exclusive genre with their distinct “Heavy metal disguised as colorful synthpop” music formula, which began to formulate all the way back in 2009 with their single Wanna, and continued throughout much of their career with tracks like Jumping, Lupin, and Damaged Lady (#49). But that particular niche achieved its most perfect form in 2012, with this ravenously stormy and intense bombshell. First and foremost, the main riff of Pandora is one of the most complex, creative, and masterful hooks in all of K-pop, employing one of the all-time greatest examples of reversed pedal point harmony I’ve ever heard. And this isn’t just a simple, repetitive melody over a short, easy chord progression--nope, in Pandora, KARA push the laws of harmony to its absolute limits: A screeching, maniacal synth lead descends chromatically down one whole octave--and does so four times, over five different chords. The i-VII-VI-ii°-V⁷/i progression is expressed almost completely through the instrumental’s dense electric guitar sample, providing a perfect weighty contrast to the piercing synths. Together, it makes for one of the moodiest, most powerful music sequences in all of K-pop, and the one hook alone probably could have ushered the song into my top 100. But on top of that, Pandora pretty much has something for everyone: Wistful i-V⁷/i-VII-V⁷b/VII verses over an urgent four-on-the-floor beat, which seamlessly falls into the tense VI-IIIb-Vb/v-V/i pre-choruses, and makes for one of the smoothest and most melodically fluid transitions in the whole countdown. It manages to counteract all the doom and gloom with lighter, more anthemic choruses, teeming with regal brasses and injecting just enough sing-along catchiness to keep the track appealing to the general public. But, any fun catchiness that Pandora contains in its choruses get totally obliterated in the wild, brutal rap bridge, where the rock influences really come out to play. Distorted shred guitars and rabid, screaming strings join forces for a grim i-VIb-vii°b/VII-VIb, i-VIb-vii°b/VII-V/i climax. It is, in simplest terms, absolutely sick, and one of my favorite bridges of the decade (although I’ll be saying that a lot now that we’re in the top 30). It was quite brave of KARA to follow up the cheery, universally-likable STEP (#34) with this angsty, sinister beast of a song, and boy am I glad that they did. Pandora is one of the best instances of a girl group trying a dark concept--everything about it works, the production is absolutely stellar, and there are really no flaws to be found. Pandora, like one of the other 2012 songs that hasn’t been eliminated yet, was first linked to me by my best friend, whom I lay complete and sole blame upon for getting me into this mess in the first place. So, in a way, you can say the first dose that I was given of Pandora’s intense hook was the approximate time of death on my relationship with western pop. Like it or not, I just couldn’t find songs like this on my top 40 radio station--and Pandora is the kind of song that I had, have always had (seriously, my love affair with secondary chords goes back hilariously far), and likely always will have, a taste for.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler In 2012, Girls’ Generation were still at that stage in their career where they could have released a three minute queef and watched it shoot to #1 on every chart in South Korea, and with such invincibility, SM had finally deemed it safe to experiment with them. Thus, we got their international ventures in 2011, their groundbreaking classic I Got a Boy in 2013, and in between that, we got the TTS subunit. A subunit consisting of a group’s three best vocalists sounds like a snooze button waiting to happen, presumptively resulting in tepid ballads, sapped of energy and charisma in order to make room for big vocals. Shockingly, however, the music of TTS was top-notch, finding the perfect avenue that allowed both the ladies’ vocals and SM’s hook-heavy dance-pop to shine in equal parts. The lead single, the funk-infused Twinkle, was the best title track the SNSD name had put out in ages, and I also have a soft spot for the retro rock track that closed the album, Checkmate. To no one’s surprise, however, the song that had the most impact on me was the big swing number. But this goes beyond just one more swing track that I love--with the exception of one more upcoming elimination, which has swing qualities, but just doesn’t feel as close in spirit to real swing as this baby does--OMG holds the honor of being my favorite swing-influenced song of the decade. There were lots of reasons for me to love OMG so much back then, and every one of those reasons still apply seven years later. OMG is practically a composite of all the easiest ways a song can find a spot in my top 100: Moody, dramatic chord progressions; structural unpredictability; sassy, narcissistic lyrics; and swanky, retro compositions throwing back to the jazz age. While it does combine all its ritzy big band instrumentation with a heavy electronic beat and a fuzzy bassline, it doesn’t have that distinct EDM-ish electro-swing sound to it; nor does it sound like classical swing. It falls in that awkward in-between category like f(x)’s Snapshot from the following year. The difference is that OMG treads that line perfectly, and ends up with the best of both worlds--it has all the hard-edged ferocity of the best electropop, and all the shady, theatrical vaudevillian flavor of the best swing. The end result is a song that mentally transports you to the dark, smokey, tawdry atmosphere of a modern speakeasy. While lyrical content isn’t a deciding factor for me when it comes to K-pop, I have to briefly give props to OMG, which aims to be the soundtrack to a high class glamorpuss’s life, like a female version of Puttin’ On the Ritz. “Oh my gosh, the charm that only you have,” “You’re a superstar who threw away a normal, beige-colored life,” “High fashion or any kind of gem looks shabby next to your existence.” It’s worth mentioning because--and this is certainly a rarity in any type of pop music--the lyrics match the tone of the song. OMG is deliciously aristocratic, wily, and downright snooty in every sonic dimension, from its elegant iv-VI-VII-IV/VI progression, to its insidious assembly of brasses and horns, to its extravagant, powerhouse vocals. It’s like a peacock in audio form. Tiffany’s sultry lower register was made for this kind of song, and adds the perfect final touch of devilish mystique to sell the whole thing. And, as for those ultra-dramatic high notes in the second and third choruses, well--that’s what pushes OMG all the way to #23 of my top 100. It is, hands down, one of my favorite musical moments of all time, and because of it, this spectacular piece of shady retro pop will always hold a very special place in my heart.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler This is gonna be a tough one to review to the length of the most recent eliminations, since my sole reason for loving this song madly enough to push it to #22 is its sinister chords, and I’m not quite sure what they are. Whoopsie. I had always assumed, judging from the title of this one, that it was either a SISTAR-esque bubblegum pop tune or a boring R&B ballad. Whatever the case, I certainly did not expect for the feel of the song to be so much more in-line with the literal definition of “Crazy.” If the title of the song were being completely honest, it would more accurately be called, “I Go Psychotic Because of You.” I Go Crazy Because of You has got to be one of the darkest uptempo songs in K-pop to this day, much less back when it was released in 2010. And not just melodically dark--the instrumental choices are some of the darkest in the rate as well. It’s composed of murky electronic basslines; a gothic, guitar-like synth lead; trippy, nightmarish synth pads in the pre-choruses; and cinematic strings in the choruses, alongside the distinct, programmed clanging of heavy cymbal crashes in the right ear. And all those elements are used to sonically complement the dusky psychosis of the track’s chord progressions. The main hook (da da dada dada) is extremely mysterious, both literally and in how it sounds: the V⁷/V-V/i and V⁷/V-IV/VI combos that split the main i-IIIᵃᵈᵈ⁶-VI-V⁷/V-V/i, i-IIIᵃᵈᵈ⁶-VI-V⁷/V-IV/VI progression don’t (or at least they shouldn’t) harmonize with the vocal melody, so I had to change it around in hookpad--yet it sounds perfectly fine in the actual song, so there’s probably just some fundamental thing that I don’t understand. In addition to the dark (and possibly outright dissonant) progression, the melody is littered with moody semitones, giving the track a very “Possessed” vibe. Further contributing to the demented roboticity are the heavily autotuned vocals, standing out as the most effective use of autotune in the entire rate, championing even 4Minute’s similarly deranged-sounding I My Me Mine (#99). The vocals are edited and distorted to the point that they sound near inhuman--as though instead of listening to people, you’re listening to sex-crazed demons. The bleak, dissociative quality this gives it is similar to the ghostly depersonalization that colored Britney’s Blackout album. In fact, you could almost convince me I Go Crazy Because of You is a legitimate homage to America’s pop princess, exercising remarkably similar melodies to some of her signature sex anthems, and even going as far as whispering during the bridge, “You want a slave?” I Go Crazy Because of You is the best example of what I miss about the early 2010’s electropop. It’s sultry, dark, cold, and harsh, in the most infectious way possible. It’s brainless in a way that sounds like it’s out of its mind with lust, and has that unique brand of total ferocity that’s missing in today’s pop climate. Because of that, it’s aged surprisingly well, ranking in at the outrageously respectable #22, in spite of its being the second oldest song on the list.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 And FINALLY, after almost 80 eliminations: Spoiler I remember putting I’ll Be Yours at #3 during the 2017 rate, below Love Cherry Motion, as I assumed it wouldn’t age as well. Boy, that’s one of the most inaccurate assessments I’ve ever made. And looking back on it, why wouldn’t it have aged well? It has everything I could ask for. Girl’s Day is sorely missed today, but they went out with quite a bang, ending their career with a killer retro banger that sounds like their 2015 album track Macaron after a two-year meth binge. It opens up in a classic walking bassline with brass accents in the background, but the track’s modernity quickly makes itself known through its excellently mixed sub-bass and crisp snare rolls. The verses switch back to basics with swanky, low-pitched brass, orchestral hits, and a monotonous upright piano pulse over a swung rhythm, while the snare rolls lead the way to the pre-choruses. The pre-choruses mark the return of the dense 808’s, which now join forces to play--you guessed it--a descending chromatic, and one of the most effective examples of the decade at that, with this variation being i-vii°/i-VII-V⁷/VII-VI-V⁷/i. Like in the intro, the overpowering brass sample cuts everything to an abrupt halt, and prepares you for the wallop the chorus is about to bring. I’ll Be Yours pulls out some interesting stops for the choruses: The rhythm morphs away from its regular swing; the hard, ear-splitting bass kick is distorted in a way that sounds more like a monster snare than a kick, and as far as offbeat percussion goes (where a snare would actually go)--well, there is none! This gives the beat a slow, brutal, galumphing rhythm that is pretty much one-of-a-kind in K-pop--even as we wrap up the decade, I can’t think of a song that has a beat similar to I’ll Be Yours’ choruses. A gritty, badass electric guitar enters the picture with this, and applies a hard rock treatment to the track’s walking bassline. The intense, headbanging beat complements the brutish rock direction perfectly, and the resultant combo augments the psychotic moodiness of the chorus’s chord structure (a really weird i-V/i-VI-V/i progression that gets stuck on the first chord for three bars, and the VI chord clashing with the vocal melody), propelling the song from sounding merely aggressive to outright violent. This is in tone with the lyrics, which narcissistically line out Girl’s Day’s seduction techniques, assaulting the listener with pure, unwavering, commanding pride and self-assurance. It all reaches a peak with an absolute monster of a bridge, which is one of two of my favorite bridges of the whole decade. The tension shoots from 0 to 100 with a head-spinning array of emotional melodies and stunning vocal harmonies: In what’s probably the most melodically dynamic point of the song, it marvelously leads the listener through an iv-i-V⁷/i-i-vii°/iv, iv-i-VI-V⁷/i showstopper that brings every element of the song together for one final, beautiful, momentous climax.
Red Light Posted December 21, 2019 Author Posted December 21, 2019 Spoiler Spoiler The Brown Eyed Girls and Girls' Generation are now the only artists left with more than one song. Dreamcatcher and SISTAR are the last two Tier 5 artists remaining. THANK YOU FOR COMING, EVERYONE!!! Tune in tomorrow night for the TOP 20!!!!!
K$Ellie Posted December 21, 2019 Posted December 21, 2019 Sunrise is very cute Damaged Lady is SUCH a bop, I was shocked that ATRL mostly ignores it, THAT CHORUS I'm surprised that so many Orange Caramel songs are above Catallena, I suppose they're worth getting into Why So Lonely is obvi a classic, I love Sweet & Easy as well sad that they disbanded when they were peaking quality-wise nnn 2 Russian Roulettes back to back RV's one was one of the first k-pop songs I loved, it's been bumped down by Red Flavor for me tho On 12/18/2019 at 3:39 PM, Red Light said: Mess, the text dump. The 9Muses member--fjhdjka I saw something last night about a 9Muses member doing a reaction video to Dreamcatcher too. This must be what one of them is doing in their spare time, I guess... Yes, get into Lie please. I need allies. Oh, I prefer Crazy as well. It just hasn't been eliminated yet. We have the same top 5 on Reboot, although in a different order. I had a lot to say giving our indie girls exposure, love that for her Well it wouldn't be one of my faves from them but when I get back around to their discography, it'll deff be one I'm gonna say Yas taste people seem to stan Candle and One Black Night but they're wrong
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