In Search of Korean Rock
The title was pure clickbait: In Search of Korean Rock. The final episode of Me and My Guitar, a guitar survival program broadcast on terrestrial TV, had pulled in an impressive 8.9% viewership rating. For a show scheduled as a temporary filler before a major variety show took over, those numbers were an absolute triumph. Moreover, because it targeted a middle-aged demographic, ad slots sold like hotcakes, earning the production team of Me and My Guitar a hefty bonus. Since no one had anticipated this level of success, the show wrapped up its run before a proper follow-up could even be scheduled to ride the momentum. To rekindle that spark, a hybrid interview-variety and semi-documentary program was hastily put together as a bridge. That program was In Search of Korean Rock. And naturally, the host who would serve as the core of the show... was decided before anyone even bothered to ask for her opinion. It was Ha Suyun.
What on earth would they have done if I’d said no?
This was her first time seeing PD Im Jong-hun since Me and My Guitar ended. Watching him chatter away cheerfully in front of her, booming, "Ayyy! It's been too long, Miss Suyun!" Suyun couldn't help but wonder. What would have happened to this show if she had turned it down? Well, the timing worked out well enough that she didn't really have a reason to refuse, but still.
"To be honest, we wanted to launch this at the beginning of the year," PD Im said.
"Yes."
"But we heard your schedule was packed, so we waited until you were free."
"Oh..."
Am I really that big of a deal? Suyun twirled a strand of her hair. But PD Im Jong-hun seemed to genuinely believe she was.
"I mean, Band of Giants and Me and My Guitar—you were practically the main character of both shows. And let's be real, they succeeded because of you."
"I don't think it was entirely because of me..."
"Well, sure, we can't say it was one hundred percent you. But I reckon at least thirty percent of that success lies squarely on your shoulders. And what then? Are we supposed to throw away thirty percent just because we have the other seventy? What if we flop? That's why even when the director was breathing down my neck, I told him we had to wait until our superstar was ready. So I'm just glad it worked out!" PD Im let out a hearty laugh.
Well, I suppose it's a good thing he thinks so highly of me, Suyun thought.
"By the way, do you happen to know any of the veteran guitarists?"
It'd be quicker to list the ones I don't know.
The question came from one of the production staff members while they were driving to the filming location. Suyun stared at the staff member's face, thinking. There were simply too many to name.
"What's your definition of 'knowing' them? For example, just being acquainted? Or having their phone numbers?"
"Oh, nothing that deep. Just... knowing who they are..."
"In that case, I know pretty much all of them."
"Ah, of course. Your master must have introduced you."
"...Ah, yes. Something like that."
The staff member nodded, instantly rationalizing her answer. Not knowing what else to say, Suyun simply stared out the window of the Staria van. Why did she feel so exhausted when she hadn't even done anything yet? Was her physical condition just poor today? Or was it because she was about to treat people who, just a few years ago, used to bow to her on holidays—well, that was an exaggeration; Suh Myung-jun's personality was never good enough to receive holiday greetings—or junior colleagues, or guys barely older than her who used to smugly call her "hyung," as if they were revered ancestors? She wasn't sure which was the truth, but she took comfort in one small mercy. At least the first guest wasn't someone she'd had terrible blood with...
Is it really okay to trash a dead guy like this?
The moment the first day of shooting wrapped up, that was Suyun's immediate thought. They said the dead tell no tales and can't defend themselves, and they weren't kidding.
"You can't talk about rock without talking about guitarists," the PD had said during the interview. "I believe Ha Suyun's master... the late Suh Myung-jun, was also a legendary guitarist."
"Ah... yes. Myung-jun. Come to think of it, Suyun, you said you were Myung-jun's disciple, right?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"Man, that bastard was lucky. How did a guy with such a rotten temper end up with a disciple like you..."
"Was his temper... that bad?"
When the PD threw out that question mid-shoot, Suyun had felt a sudden, violent urge to smack the mouth of 'Old Man Kim' who was answering. His words were just that grating.
"Myung-jun was a great guitarist, sure... but because he was so good, he was incredibly rude, to put it bluntly. People used to say that if he ever lost his hands, no one would ever take him in and he'd end up homeless."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. Suyun, since he was your teacher, you might not like hearing this, but he was awful back in the day. If something ticked him off, he'd throw his guitar and walk out thirty minutes before a broadcast. Flirting with random women on the street was a daily occurrence, and he'd constantly be found passed out drunk somewhere."
"Wait, that's a bit... And besides, Master Myung-jun doesn't really have anything to do with the topic of today's broadcast..."
Suyun had quickly intervened to stop the ridiculous slander. But the PD looked thoroughly amused, and 'Old Man Kim' seemed to be enjoying himself just as much.
"Oh, and that's not all. There was this other time..."
Suyun groaned inwardly. The show was called In Search of Korean Rock, and they weren't even interviewing exclusively guitarists... so there was absolutely no reason for Suh Myung-jun's name to keep popping up. Yet, every single person who saw Suyun felt compelled to tack on a story about Suh Myung-jun at the end of their interview. For instance, like this:
"I heard you're Suh's disciple. Was he actually worth learning from? I highly doubt it."
"He taught me well."
"No way. There's no way that guy could teach anyone properly. Maybe he mellowed out in his old age, but back in the day, his personality was something else."
"Ah... Ahaha... Is that so?"
"I'm telling you! Back when I was still struggling with the guitar, Mr. Suh came up to me and said, 'If you're going to play that terribly, why bother being a musician? Just pack up and go work in a factory!' He actually said that to me."
Or like this:
"Rock bands couldn't possibly not know Suh Myung-jun. If you were looking for a session guitarist, you were bound to run into him. And if you didn't need a guitarist? Well, then you'd definitely have other session players who had gotten into a fistfight with him... That's just how it was."
"If his personality was that bad, you'd think he would have been blacklisted from the industry."
"They couldn't do that. First of all, finding someone who played as well as Myung-jun was nearly impossible. Other 'great' guitarists were praised for their unique style, but in terms of pure technique, nobody could touch him. That's why he ended up performing with almost every major rock band in Korea. Because of that, his pride in his skills was sky-high. He expected everyone to conform to his standards. He definitely wasn't a pleasant guy."
"I don't think his personality was that bad..."
"No, it was. I know it might be disrespectful to speak ill of the dead, but it's a fact that he had a terrible temper. There are plenty of witnesses."
Or like this:
"I have no idea how you ended up learning the guitar from Myung-jun. He wasn't the type to teach anyone..."
"From what I saw, he was a decent person."
"I feel bad badmouthing a dead man, but honestly, even with a mountain of sugarcoating, his personality was absolutely unsalvageable."
Or like this.
Of course, Suyun understood where they were coming from. Since she was known as the disciple of the infamous Suh Myung-jun, it was only natural that they would recall their memories of him. Reminiscing with a laugh, sharing old stories to wash away the grief of death—that was the Korean way of processing loss. Mixing in a few exaggerations and lies was just par for the course, a form of humor. But for the person listening, it felt like being tied up hand and foot and beaten to a pulp. How on earth was she supposed to argue back?
She couldn't exactly yell, "Hey, I'm the former Suh Myung-jun, and you're talking absolute bullshit! You were the one who screwed up back then!" Nor could she say, "Well, I heard from my master that you were actually the one in the wrong..."
"What happened to your face?!"
"It's nothing."
Seeing Suyun sitting in the office working after the shoot, Iseor practically shrieked. It looked as if Suyun had suffered some kind of devastating mental assault; her face had grown gaunt and hollow in just a single day...
Day two of filming.
"Hello..."
"Oh, hello! Wow, you really are beautiful. I'd only heard rumors."
The setting was a cozy residential home packed with cameras. Once the setup was complete, Ha Suyun opened the door and stepped inside. Guitarist Lee Hyun-chul stood up to greet her. The filming schedule was similar to the first day. They would ask about the interviewee's role in the Korean rock scene, reminisce about the atmosphere of that era, and trace the history of Korean rock.
"So, would it be accurate to say you got your start through the College Song Festival, Mr. Lee?"
"Well, you could say that, but shouldn't you actually win an award to claim you're from the College Song Festival? I didn't win anything. You know that famous story, right? How senior Bae Chul-soo heard Sand Pebbles and thought, 'If they can do it, so can I,' and decided to enter the festival."
"I've heard that story before."
"I was kind of like that. Of course, I entered much later, and I got eliminated without making any waves, so it's a bit embarrassing to call myself a product of the festival..."
"But you still left your mark on the history of rock."
"Ha, can you really call a couple of minor hits 'leaving a mark'..."
"I really loved 'How Did It Turn Out Like This' from your days with Black Spider."
"Oh, really? Wow, that song must have come out when your... well, your mother was a little girl. Am I wrong?"
The shoot was progressing peacefully, as it usually did. Ha Suyun's knowledge of Korean rock was far beyond impressive—it was borderline encyclopedic. Because of this, even interviewees who initially grumbled about "why are we even doing this show" would completely soften up after a few exchanges, leading to a warm and harmonious atmosphere.
"And although it's not widely known, you also experimented with thrash metal in Judgement. I really enjoyed that track as well."
"Wow... you really know your stuff. That's right. We tried our hand at it before Naty came along. But it didn't go well. It wasn't pure thrash; it felt a bit half-baked, I suppose. Anyway, it flopped."
Rather than a meeting between a young female interviewer and an aging veteran, their conversation felt more like a gathering of lifelong music enthusiasts of the same generation. PD Im Jong-hun listened to the endless flow of dialogue before calling out "Cut!" at the perfect moment. It was time for a short break.
"You really know your history. Did Brother Suh teach you all this?"
"Ah, yes, well..."
Lee Hyun-chul threw out the question the moment the break started. At his words, Suyun's expression darkened slightly. Hyun-chul looked at her with a puzzled expression, wondering what was wrong, but PD Im Jong-hun knew exactly why. Every time that topic came up, a barrage of complaints about Suyun's master, Suh Myung-jun, was sure to follow.
"Man, that guy passed away way too early. He ate so much criticism throughout his life that I thought he'd live forever."
"A lot of people have said that."
"Oh, really? Well, stories about Brother Suh are legendary, after all."
"Do you happen to have any funny anecdotes?"
Suyun stared at PD Im with a hollow, defeated look, resembling a dog drenched in the rain. But the die was cast, and Hyun-chul was already launching into his story.
"Hmm... Actually, I performed on stage with Brother Suh once. It wasn't a major gig, just playing guitar at a nightclub. Brother Suh said he needed another guitarist and didn't have anyone else to bring along, so I went. He promised the pay would be decent."
"Yes."
"But a few days after the gig, Brother Suh came to me and said, 'Hey, the owner says he can't pay us right now. Said he doesn't have the cash on hand or something.' He told me he'd get it from him later. I just took his word for it... but I found out later that the nightclub owner had paid him. He'd just taken the money, gone out drinking, and blown it all. And then he lied to my face..."
"...Surely my master didn't mean to do that? Maybe he really didn't get paid..."
"No, it's the absolute truth. I didn't speak to him for a few years because of that. We eventually got back in touch, but still..."
Faced with yet another piece of her past self's dirty laundry being aired out, Suyun stared at the ceiling and let out a deep, heavy sigh. Once the brief intermission came to an end, PD Im turned to Hyun-chul.
"For our next segment, as we discussed earlier... Guitarist Ha Suyun will be performing a song from the band you formed in the past. Please listen and give us your honest feedback. If there's anything to critique, don't hold back. Be as harsh as you like."
"Ah, I tend to be a bit blunt. Will she be okay?"
"Yes, she'll be fine."
Hyun-chul narrowed his eyes in surprise. Then, holding her black Stratocaster, Ha Suyun began to play Hyun-chul's signature track... How Did It Turn Out Like This.
In the middle of the living room, the guitar's voice wailed through Marshall's flagship JVM410H amplifier. Throughout the entire performance, Hyun-chul listened in absolute silence. The performance, neither too long nor too short, came to an end in the quiet room.
"I have no idea... what kind of monster Brother Suh created..."
Hyun-chul's quiet murmur drifted clearly into the microphone.