I've self-admittedly been on the negative side of the fence regarding with the music churned by Lee Hyori. While I've found a handful of her songs catchy, and I sometimes enjoy her timidly unique voice, I've felt that her music is (quite) forgettable in the scheme of things—however, I guess this is nothing unique to K-Pop to begin with. Hyori, in my opinion, is the epitome of the face-before-talent K-Pop idol (and uniquely to her, body-before-talent). Her stiff/lack of any shred of musicality subsequently deprives her of the label (or my label) of someone truly artistic in any generous sense of the term. While I'd be flat-out lying if I said I've had epiphanic change-of-face regarding this opinion after listening through the release of her latest album Monochrome, in no way do I want to downplay some of the surprisingly enjoyable points contained within this album. While far from groundbreaking in any regard, the indie-reminiscent journey contained within the album's tracks lends itself to be an immensely listenable effort.
Miss Korea
I'll start discussion with the headlining tracks of the album. The first pre-release, "Miss Korea," is a straightforward, albeit sensuously so, swing tracks that unabashedly paints Hyori as the pinnacle figure of Miss Korea. In fact, she needs to reitify her powerful sexual attraction to the Korean masses, she mentions that she is Miss Korea a staggering twelve times (and who said she wasn't a creative lyricist). But now those with watchful ears probably wondering this: Eumag! She says "I'm a Miss Korea" not twelve, but thirteen times. Correct, but the last line of the song is translated to "You're Miss Korea." This phrase falls under the context of Hyori confronting someone else who seems to be a cranky goose that they're not this status, as their only care is also the eyes of others, or that they feel bad when something goes wrong. Hyori comes out and says, "Oh no, it's OK, you can a Miss Korea too!" I'm not sure if this is sympathetic or pathetic to this fictional other. In one light, it certainly paints her in an empathetic light by casting her title onto some lowly figure. But at the same time, it reifies her undeniable position of power by showing how pathetic and self-centered other can be. In some way this feels like a jab to the younger K-Pop artists (Hyori is in her 30s, after all) or the various snooty complaining green-eyed daughters of the various daddies of capitalist modern Korean. Whereas these younger ones may feel that money and prestige makes them the apple of Korea's eye, this is a position undeniably attached to Hyori. Thus, the temporary passing of this label onto someone else seems ultimately like a "shut up!" motive by Hyori. But then again, this is probably reading too far into this.
Anyway, I'm not going to argue Hyori's position one bit, for I think the outcome and fame from her mainstay endeavors in music, film, and television speak for itself. The song, however, is quite simplistic and doesn't require anywhere near the highest level of virtuosity to pull off. However, Hyori performs it as confidently as anyone could ever desire. Layering her singing over the dichotomous section textures between the refrain and verse results in an overall solid effort.
Bad Girls
The other headlining track, "Bad Girls," is an upbeat, beach rock inspired track which has all of the elements to make it a long-stay chart topper. Again, it's not artistically interesting in any rspect, but it satisfies the musical needs of the sheep that we all are. The lyrics are what you expect with such a title: they glorify the position of a "bad" girl compared to the squeaky clean "good" girl image that is pervasive amongst female K-Pop idols. OK, I get it, bad girls are great, sing your anthem while it's here. But I certainly hope nobody considers this a liberating anthem in the slightest. But the critique is interesting to think about nonetheless.
If any female idol could pull of this song convincingly, it would be Hyori, especially in her later years. Her evolution in becoming the eminent sex symbol of Korea clearly places her in a class outside of the "good" girl image set by the standard of naive innocence alone. Albeit he sex object status still places her in the fanciful gaze of the male eye, and her dollification doesn't necessarily progress feminist representations in any manner of Korea. But Hyori, or her producers, seem to be aware of this in "Bad Girls," and especially so in the music video. Ultimately, Hyori is demonstrated breaking the basic tenants of filial piety and chastity in the music video. While disobeying her dysfunctional family is a statement enough from the young "bad girl" perspective, openly fulfilling the male desires by easily, but tinged with annoyingly, exposing her goods to the men breaks the ultimate act of Korean innocence. She separates herself from the lustful thoughts of sexual desire by males by personally fulfilling their desires in unorthodox places. Thus her actions (slutty if you want but I wouldn't say that) clearly demonstrates herself as bad.
But despite this variation of being "bad," in some ways Hyori is still very much good by accepting her subordinate status in Korean society. But this is my perspective. Have an internal argument with yourself. I don't care.
As can be seen from the above discussion, there is a noticeable theme of Hyori's songs not possessing much virtuosity yet still being enjoyable to listen through. These theme, fortunately or unfortunately, weaves itself through the album's entirety. But for 'Monochrome' to retain the level of replay value that it has speaks wonders to the quality of the engineering and production teams and their ability in transforming Hyori into the product that she puts out in 'Monochrome'. While most full-length albums tend to suffer greatly outside of the lead singles, there are a surprising number of self-identified gems that I'd like to give proper kudos towards.
Trust Me
The track "Trust Me" is highly reminiscent of the elements that strain through Amy Winehouse's 'Back to Black' album effort. While it would be an insult to compare Hyori in anyway to the late Winehouse on a level of artistry, the unmistakably neo-Motown background feel of "Trust Me" creates a hauntingly irresistible sonicscape to listen to, one that I wouldn't mind hearing more in K-Pop. Hyori is again serviceable here, but she certainly doesn't detract from the overall feel in anyway—her glissandic note changes are quite nice in this instance. This song will definitely be on a playlist of mine somewhere for just the instrumentals alone.
Special
The following track, "Special", probably demonstrates Hyori's vocal ability best in this entire release. This is demonstrated primarily in the well-controlled vocal hiccups during the refrain sections. While I still doubt Hyori's ability to actually belt out in her songs, random moments like these shows that she does—in this uberly-polished product—does seem to have both a good understanding and control of the pipes she was given. I'm particularly fond of the vocal effect used on her voice. While the actual electronic processing application here is not important, it's surprisingly tasteful, and gives an element of difference between the refrain and verses—again, a nod to her production team. While I was initially put off by the human bass introduction in the beginning of this song, this song ended up being an undeniable gem and one of my favorites from the album.
Wouldn't Ask You
Speaking of gimmicky introductions, nothing beats "Wouldn't Ask You" and its ridiculous kazoo intro and solo. But this revealed to what was a really fun little track to listen to. It's obvious that Hyori is incredibly comfortable in her duet with the solo acoustic guitar, and she brims with confidence in her swinging, upbeat performance. However, I find it rather ironic that the lyrics for "Wouldn't Ask You" are rather dark: the protagonist is on the brink of destroying her life because of a seeming recent breakup. I'm not quite sure if this irony is intentional, but Hyori has been known to be a social critic in the past—"Wouldn't Ask You" could very well be a slapstick mocking of breakups. Regardless, this song, as utterly simplistic as it is, is really quite fun.
Show Show Show
I absolutely love the Hyori's vocal quality in "Show Show Show". She has a fuzzy, doubled vocal quality that I found readily reminiscent of sections from my previous favorite release by her, "U Go Girl". However, unlike that song, "Show Show Show" hauntingly timid quality actually fits the chilling musical scope of the track provided by the near monochord progression of the neo-folk-like instrumental. The lyrics demonstrates the facade of the real and perceived real of performative actions of performers when they publicly perform their art. This songs suggests the inability to express sorrow and sadness to the public, which appears to be a quality that is not only a potential hidden emotional state of Hyori, but arguably to K-Pop idols in general. Like "Wouldn't Ask You", the potential for strong political undertones are present here. Despite the overwhelming sense of negativity, this song exceed my expectation of Hyori.
Concluding Comments
While I am very much aware this review neglected to comment on other notable tracks that listener may or may not have had in mind, I believe the summary of these self-identified gems of Monochrome is sufficient enough to prove my overall feeling of the album. In other words, go cry about it if I didn't say something that appeased YOUR favorite song. While I don't necessarily believe that Hyori is brimming with talent, this album overall is immensely enjoyable to listen to on a whole. There are numerous gems, and seeming social critiques, throughout that provide just enough of a sense of completeness and thought-provikingness that is rarely found in other endeavors. And for these facts alone, I think this is definitely—and surprisingly—one of the better releases I've seen thus far this year.
0 comments:
Post a Comment