Last week, I had this feeling that I’ve seen that EXO video before. If you read last week’s newsletter, you’ll know “Monster” was about when I started getting overwhelmed, so I didn’t write too much about it. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt too familiar – and not just because I’ve maybe already seen something similar to it.
So I watched it again. And again. And again, and then I remembered: I watched this video last February in the San Jose airport on one of the many days that are still a blur.
This week was supposed to be “K-pop ‘explained,’” but I need to press pause for a minute so I can talk about this EXO video.
When somebody dies, there’s this option on Facebook to turn their page into a memorial. Part of what that does is that it keeps the person’s birthday and other public details from showing up in their friends’ notifications. But one place where content still shows up is on your personal “Memories” section. And recently, Facebook reminded me that Alan and I have been Facebook friends for 12 years.
Had been. I guess it would’ve just been 11 years.
The day he died, I was inconsolable. Have you ever had the wind knocked out of you and been unable to breathe for nearly six hours straight? That was February 10, 2018: there was a car accident, and then darkness.
That night, I watched the Winter Olympics and felt completely drained of any emotion. It’s how I spent most of the PyeongChang Games, to be honest: on my couch, drained. But we had a Toyota sponsorship for our news coverage and content to produce, so I would turn on my laptop and force myself to work; but even in the moments when there was something to cheer about, it felt impossible to experience any real joy.
Two weeks later, I flew to San Jose for the first day of the funeral. On my way back, I sat at the airport scrolling through my phone. The Closing Ceremony was in a few hours and EXO and CL were set to perform, and social media seemed psyched. Next to me at the gate, two teen girls were talking about EXO – specifically, “Monster.”
“You’ve never seen the video??” one girl kept saying. “Never??”
They started watching it on a phone. I couldn’t help but peek at the screen. It looked cool, and it distracted me from the blank birthday card Thomas had given me that Alan meant to sign for when we had planned to see each other for my birthday.
When the video ended, I pulled it up on my own phone so I could watch it closer. I watched it a couple times, I think. It made me smile. I didn’t need to think too hard and I didn’t feel let down by any part of it because I didn’t expect it to win a gold medal or to still be alive and text me back.
It was just nice and I needed that.
“Monster” – both the song (in both Korean and Chinese) and video (the first video of two that would be released for the song) – was released on June 9, 2016. The song is the second single from EXO’s third album and went on to top South Korea's Gaon Digital Chart and the Billboard World Digital Songs chart. By the end of the year, “Monster” was the fourth most-watched K-pop video on YouTube. Two years later, it became EXO’s first music video to exceed 200 million views.
It’s a dark video, with lots of purples and blues and chains, and the star of the show is clearly the choreography. It can be a little jarring at first because the camera hardly stays still as the nine members move across the frame. The story, according to the members themselves, is a continuation of “Lucky One,” the first single from their third album.
In “Lucky One,” EXO have lost their superpowers and get kidnapped. When their powers suddenly return as nurses try to experiment on them, they’re able to escape. “Monster” picks up with EXO fighting against suppression as rebels.
What I’m starting to get here is that there’s a specific kind of “world building” when it comes to K-pop, one where a group’s music videos bleed into each other and fans speculate about the roles each member plays. (Take “Monster,” for instance: Is Baekhyun a double agent? An undercover police officer? “There is a knot here,” he’s since explained in interviews. “In the middle of the song, I leave, then, appear again as a betrayer. In the MV, I am the only person, who has no blood stain in the face. However, finally, I found a secret outlet for other members. Actually, I am a mole.”)
I guess that’s no different than fans of Taylor Swift and Beyonce today, but it’s a change from the boy bands I grew up watching on TRL. The difference, of course, is the introduction of social media and the internet. When *NSYNC’s Celebrity album came out, I sat on the phone with my best friend and we listened to the album together through her receiver, unable to talk about it without losing the sound. Today, when a video like “Monster” drops, it immediately trends on Twitter and you have access to the world’s opinions.
But that’s not breaking news, right? I guess I’m still wondering what exactly made this genre so unique and what’s fueled its global explosion.
Can you be saved by someone you may never meet?
I’m scrolling through the allkpop forums and it’s not uncommon to see people sharing the ways music has rescued them out of the darkness.
It’s not just K-pop where this happens: a 2017 Teen Vogue article explored how fandoms can improve the mental health of younger people. “Connecting with people over shared passions and interests is good for mental and emotional health because it helps to create a fraternity-like or family-like sense of security. It's also generally fun to scheme and get excited about something with others, and gives them a subject to talk about that they know will always be well received,” said Dr. Laurel Steinberg, a psychotherapist and professor of psychology at Columbia University.
And while there is an inevitable darker side to fandoms (more on that to come), what Dr. Steinberg says makes sense. Being part of a fandom is a form of community-building. Feeling connected to something – to other people – helps stave off a certain type of darkness that can sometimes swallow a person whole.
There’s an Invisibilia episode from earlier this year about how a simple distraction (or, sometimes, an obsession) can help a person who is grieving. “When you’re staring down an emotion that can swallow you whole,” says producer Meghan Keane, “you have to find a way to shrink it down to something manageable.”
I’ve thought about the times I found myself facing unmanageable emotions and what I did to try and shrink it down: the morning Auntie Connie died, I turned straight around from church and went back to bed to watch The Great British Bake-Off until 8 p.m.; my last frustrating break-up was followed by a full binge-watch of Dawson’s Creek for the first time; and when I left an abusive relationship in college, it was when I met Alan and we would spend hours watching and talking about TV shows that built the foundation for a friendship I never saw ending.
June 25, 2019 – It’s Tuesday. It’s been two days since I’ve eaten. Katie and I are at a Korean BBQ spot tucked far away from where you’re supposed to want to go for Korean BBQ, and I ask her to talk.
Her topic of choice is K-pop. I like listening to her talk because she genuinely loves it, and if there’s one thing I love, it’s people who genuinely love things.
I’ve grown so aware over the last few years of how challenging it is to feel. That sounds dramatic, but perhaps the reason I’m looking for a distraction right now is because I’m lost.
And if that distraction is the confusing and mesmerizing world of K-pop, then that’s what I need.
I’m watching “Monster” again. The last 15 seconds are repetitive, backed by snapping, as it fades to an end. I scroll down to the comments section, which are flooded with pleas for fans to pre-order Obsession. It’s EXO’s new album, scheduled for release later this month. The group, according to my brief Googling, is making a comeback complete with a new logo.
It feels like a new start. I’m looking forward to it.
Next week: K-pop “explained” (probably)