구성품
[Spec]
- GateFold Cover
(315x312x7mm)
- Black Color 1LP (12”, 180g, 33⅓rpm)
- Black Polylined Inner Sleeve
- 8p Insert
[Purchase Notice]
※ Images are for illustrative purposes and may differ from the actual product. ※ Due to the nature of the manufacturing process, there may be color variations between color discs, and small dots or other colored dyes may be mixed in during production. ※ Pre-orders may end early if stock is exhausted. Made in Germany
An aphorism singing on the threshold of one's 20s.
The debut EP of the band 'HYUKOH,' known for their delicate sound and sensibility, [20].
20. It is undoubtedly a number that brings excitement to everyone. There are inevitably several reasons why vocalist Oh Hyuk, who has just turned twenty, and his band titled their debut album [20]. 20 is the number of an unripe youth. This album contains a total of 6 songs, with 2 songs each written during the final year of the teens (nineteen), the clumsy age of twenty just after leaving the teens, and twenty-one, the entry stage of adulthood.
Among these, twenty, a transitional age, is a special time. For those who have just left their teens and entered their 20s, a new world unfolds. It is a time when all senses toward the world are most expanded, and the spectrum of experience becomes incomparably wider than before. One is too incomplete to be called an adult, and trial and error are frequent. Because of this, it is clear that there is a merit in that mistakes or wrongs are still tolerated. In other words, it is a time when any attempt is possible. There is a freshness that only those passing through this period can possess, and that possibility remains softly open.
HYUKOH focuses on the emotions of those who have just entered their 20s. At the center of this are people and human relationships. The numerous human relationships experienced during a time when social networks have not yet been fully formed. These layers of relationships, which overlap endlessly in the form of a Rhizome and without connecting links, are bound to evoke various emotions and doubts.
Vocalist Oh Hyuk, who was responsible for the lyrics, composition, and arrangement of all songs, spent nearly 20 years abroad until the end of his teens. After starting to live in Seoul upon turning 20, he had been active alone under the name Hyukoh before starting the band HYUKOH with like-minded friends of the same age. These unique boys, who have just passed twenty, fearlessly attempt a new genre not yet seen in Korea. The urban R&B-style vocals and exaggerated reverb provide a stimulation that seems to surge from some deep corner of the heart, differing slightly from the sweetness that has previously sung of the sensibilities of the 20s. The volume, composed of melancholic sounds reminiscent of Childhood or Mac DeMarco, satisfies a level of completion that freshness often overlooks.
The unique background of vocalist Oh Hyuk, who majored in art theory, also plays a part here. He has been active across the board as a performer for the 2014 Gwangju Biennale special exhibition and as a music director for fashion films and various exhibitions. His experience of continuing a unique stride in the field of visual arts is melted in together with his innate sophisticated sense.
The title track "Wi Ing Wi Ing" is a song based on the feeling of emptiness and pessimism felt at the end of the teens. Rather than calling out for hope, it emphasizes the darkness, yet it feels somehow fluffy, as if lying one's body under the sunlight. In truth, there is nothing as easy yet difficult as forming relationships. One is bound to get exhausted after repeatedly witnessing the absurdity caused by a relationship network that does not function properly.
The binary opposition of wanting to know about you and myself, yet simultaneously wanting never to know, makes me want to shut myself away somewhere. However, this too cannot last long. Failing to be true to oneself returns as an inexplicable guilt toward someone else. The atmosphere of the song, which seems to say, "I should rather not have been born," ripens with a delicate choice of words reminiscent of the Romanian philosopher and pessimist Emil Cioran. The refined expressiveness brings forth human loneliness and alienation—feeling as though one has escaped orbit and is endlessly drifting—without being cringeworthy, while simultaneously maintaining aesthetic precision.
The song that vocalist Oh Hyuk, who handled the composition and lyrics for the entire album, is personally most attached to is "I have no hometown." As mentioned previously, the nomadic sensibility brought about by long periods of living abroad is clearly revealed in the title. Imagine yourself in your 20s, drifting like a piece of floating weed on an unstable water surface. Unestablished human relationships erode one's 20s like overflowing waves. Every day upon leaving the house, one meets new people, and sparks of interaction fly as impressions are exchanged in an instant. However, these brief impressions are nothing more than fragmentarily combined pieces of information and are far from sincerity; thus, shallow relationships consisting only of impressions barely persist. The repetition of such fragmentary relationships brings skepticism to anyone.
Here, Oh Hyuk believed that the only place where people could find some solace would be their hometown, where they have maintained long-term relationships. Things that cannot be fulfilled by newly met people are filled by relationships with so-called "neighborhood friends." However, for him, nothing exists that he can call a hometown. This desolate heart brought about nostalgia. Nostalgia is commonly known as a term for longing, but strictly speaking, it is a longing for that which one can never return to. Past eras remain engraved in the heart as a beauty to which one cannot return. Everyone has a time when they dreamed of falling endlessly, ran through cornfields, and touched the old bricks of the street. Beyond the nostalgia for this lost time, he speaks of "Lostalgia"—that is, the fundamental sense of loss inherent in human existence.
As poet Choi Young-mi said in her poetry, there are times that swell like a grave, times that must be dealt with somehow. We must live on, sensitively and painfully, while harboring an inflammation on the verge of bursting. Hyukoh illuminates these dark aspects of life with a depth that belies his age, speaking softly. Such unadorned indifference is possible only through an innate sense and reflection. It resembles how Albert Camus, in his essay *The Myth of Sisyphus*, asserted that Sisyphus, who suffers an endless punishment, can become truly free the moment he realizes the inevitability and absurdity of his arduous life. The rootlessness and absurdity of existence make those who cannot accept them wander. Therefore, sometimes, rather than someone who simply hugs and consoles, one needs someone who can walk side-by-side and say, "That's just how it is." Perhaps Hyukoh's songs can be a good companion to such people.
- Lim Da-woon, Curator