K is for ‘kawaii’: K-Pop and the Korean Wave

Consider this a guide to surviving the cultural tsunami currently brewing in the North Pacific. The Korean Wave is coming, and if you have any hopes of navigating an American cultural landscape inundated with robotically synchronized choreography and perfectly teased hair, read carefully.

The term “Hallyu,” which roughly translates as “Korean wave,” was first coined to describe the surge in popularity of Korean music, television, and fashion in Japan and China in the early 2000s. More recently, the colorful seeds of Korean culture industries have come into full bloom in Southeast Asia. It now appears that the Korean media colossus has set its sights on America.

Tuesday marked the American release of Korean girl-group Girls’ Generation’s first English-language album, The Boys.

Although their music has frequently featured snippets of the language — like the innocent whispers of “listen, boy … my first love-story, my angel…” that begin the flamboyantly hued music video for their 2009 hit, “Gee” — the decision to produce an entire record in English signifies new and substantial interest in American audiences.

Those who have heard “Gee” — or more probably those who have seen the positively saccharine music video — might balk at the implicit assumption that S.M. Entertainment, the conglomerate talent agency, record label and production studio that effectively owns Girls’ Generation, has made.

Indeed, it may be hard to envision baggy-jeans-wearin’, freedom-lovin’ Americans singing along to Girls’ Generation’s playful and accented lyrics or emulating their daring yet perfectly coordinated fashion sense.

Recent trends of aesthetic maximalism suggest that this foreign fad might just catch on.

Music journalist and cultural critic Simon Reynolds recently discussed this “digital maximalism” in Pitchfork Media.

Referencing relatively underground electronic artists like Rustie and Flying Lotus, Reynolds argues that the current vogue responds to a long-standing preference for the stark and the minimal with rococo flourishes and pyrotechnic excesses.

The mainstream, too, offers examples of this aesthetic shift. Consider the larger-than-life auras of Kanye West or Skrillex, and Bassnectar’s hyper-masculine “bass-tardizations” of London’s originally minimalist dubstep. Need I even mention Lady Gaga?

K-Pop too seems to subscribe to the philosophy of “the more, the merrier.” In contrast to American boy-bands of the ‘90s, who rarely numbered more than four or five, Girls’ Generation has nine members. Their corporate cousins, Super Junior (also managed by S.M. Entertainment) were 13 strong at one point.

Musically speaking, there is nothing subtle about The Boys. K-Pop is mixed loud, heavily compressed and it positively sparkles with buzzy synths that chirp out ebullient, catchy melodies.

Five minutes of the stuff will have even the most stoic of shoulders shimmying. Ten minutes and you’ll have a cheerful, if not mildly annoying, soundtrack to accompany the rest of your day.
Furthermore, there is already a precedent of financial success for Asian cultural phenomena with distinctly foreign sensibilities.

Consider the plethora of Japanese trends that have captured the fascination (and dollars) of America’s youth over the past two decades: Pokémon, Hello Kitty and the Dragon Ball anime.

These cultural productions share an aesthetic that the Japanese call “kawaii.” This roughly translates as “cuteness” or “adorableness,” yet the linguistic imprecision with which an English-speaker must approach the concept demonstrates just how alien it is to Western norms.

Still, the style clearly took root in America. Would it even be possible to conceive of our collective childhoods without “kawaii?” The Korean Wave reinterprets this sensibility, blending cutesy elements like Girls’ Generation’s aura of juvenile timidity or Super Junior’s feminized hairstyles, with a heavy dose of bottled sex appeal.

Girls’ Generation’s uniform of smooth, long legs probably does contribute to the group’s popularity among Korean soldiers, and Super Junior’s muscled abdomens certainly do not offend the group’s young and female fan base.

In order to keep up with our future pop idols, I’ve already invested in a Bowflex and Korean lessons. I suggest that you procure, at the very least, a sturdy straightening iron and a bottle of premium hairspray.

Contact the Diversions editor at diversions@dailytarheel.com