The Arrogant Genius
During a magazine interview...
“So you’re saying it was only possible because you yourself did so well?”
“Yes, well. It’s the truth.”
An answer devoid of even a shred of humility. Yoshida was taken aback by her words, but internally, he was rejoicing. It was the perfect, pinpoint quote to pull for a headline. Besides, seeing how she didn’t back down even when pressed, she seemed to genuinely believe it.
And seeing how the other members aren’t even trying to stop her... could there be discord in the band? Normally, when a leader spouts something like that, the other members would try to damage-control or at least show some sort of reaction. Seeing them do absolutely nothing made him wonder if they were on bad terms... But Yoshida quickly dismissed the thought. They didn’t look like that at all. In fact, the alternative was much more likely.
“What do the other members think about Ha Suyun’s statement?”
“Well, I’d love to deny it just to be petty, but it’s the truth. We wouldn’t have made it this far without Suyun anyway.”
“I see...”
Yoshida lightly scratched his head with his pen before writing down the response in his notebook. Next up. Normally, he wouldn’t expect any interesting answers to this next one... but given her previous response, it was a question worth looking forward to.
“Then, on to the next question. You originally started your music career in Korea and were active there before moving over to Japan, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Could we hear your thoughts on the differences between the Korean and Japanese band scenes? In terms of skill, or anything else.”
If she was the type to answer “I did it all” to a question prompting humility, she would surely answer this honestly as well. Yoshida threw out the question with that expectation. And the answer that came back, while not 100% what he had anticipated, was still contextually in line.
“The sound systems, the live houses, the overall musical environment. Those aspects are a bit different. Japan’s is much better.”
“Are you saying Korea’s isn’t?”
“The environment in Korea is very poor. Compared to Korea, Japan’s is excellent. There’s a huge gap.”
The moment he heard that, Yoshida immediately envisioned a headline like: Korean Band Group Sound Expresses Envy of Japan’s Music Environment... ‘Korea’s Environment is Very Poor.’ But the words that followed instantly blew away those idle thoughts.
“But the difference is only in the environment. The music itself—meaning, the skill level—has no real difference. Koreans are good too. There’s no gap with Japan.”
“...Is that so? You’re saying there’s no real difference between the Korean and Japanese band scenes.”
“Yes. Anyone who actually plays music knows. Talented people are talented wherever they go. Where Korea lags behind is, well... physical, eto... the equipment, and the lack of musical diversity. But other than that, Korea is not inferior.”
Even stripping away the nuance, it was a statement that could easily be perceived as a provocation. But Yoshida felt it. The “Ha Suyun” sitting in front of him was definitely speaking with that provocative edge. No, it went beyond provocation... Confidence? Arrogance? That was exactly the emotion radiating from Ha Suyun’s slightly slow, clumsy Japanese. The sensation made Yoshida’s hand tremble slightly. He knew he had hit the jackpot with this article. The answers to the subsequent questions were also goldmines for copy. For instance, the question regarding their Japanese debut.
“Could you tell us about your mindset when you decided to enter the Japanese market?”
“Hmm... Conquest of Japan?”
“Conquest of Japan?”
“I believed our music would definitely work here. Shouldn’t anyone who makes music have that kind of mindset? That’s what I think.”
Or her impressions of the current Japanese band scene.
“What are your thoughts on the current Japanese band scene and band music in general?”
“Actually, it’s the same in Korea. No, it’s the same all over the world. Most media is dominated by short-form content now. Music? Music tailored for short-form is what’s popular. I know this. Technology has advanced, leading to this situation. Japan is no different. Mostly short-form viral hits. Those songs are very popular. This isn’t the band’s official opinion, just my personal view. That’s what I think. The popular music these days is all TikTok, Reels, Shorts. Most of it is music heard there. I’m not saying those songs are bad. Adapting to the times is good. We did that kind of music in Korea too. It’s not bad. It’s good. But having only that kind of music? Having those songs dominate the market? That’s not good.”
“It sounds like you’re saying there are too many songs in the Japanese music scene that are overly influenced by social media. Is that correct?”
“It’s not just Japan; it’s the same in every country. But Japan is currently in that state. There are many great bands in Japan. Happy End, Southern All Stars, Mr. Children... too many to count. But these days, music you sit down and quietly listen to isn’t popular. It’s treated as music for old people.”
“But isn’t your new single, Under the Satellite, exactly that kind of ‘sit down and listen’ music?”
“Yes, it is. That kind of music? It’s not popular in Japan. But we are a band that can pull it off. I believe we can fully prove that.”
In many other parts of the interview, “Ha Suyun” poured out statements that most bands wouldn’t dare utter. Things like: *There is no one in my generation who plays guitar better than me. We’ve already accomplished everything we set out to do in Korea. Now it’s Japan’s turn.*
If nothing else... Yoshida thought. Ha Suyun’s statements weren’t entirely accurate or precise. There were quite a few parts that didn’t align with the facts. The Japanese music scene wasn’t entirely like that, “listening music” was still highly popular, and there were plenty of young people who listened to Southern All Stars. But one thing was certain: while some people would frown upon reading this interview... there would also be those who thought, “Yes, this is it!” And quite a lot of them, at that.
“There are no set standards in music. But I believe this: among the bands that have debuted recently, is there any band better than us? To my ears, there is none. I am certain of it.”
As he transcribed those words, Yoshida was reminded of an era before he was even born. He recalled the interviews he had read when digging through old magazines to study rock history.
"We're more popular than Jesus now."
"Millions are in love with Metallica and Black Sabbath. I just thought they were great jokes."
"I’ve been imitated so well I've heard people copy my mistakes."
A distant past where musicians, overflowing with confidence in their own art, made arrogant statements. Yet, they were people who went on to prove every single word. "Arrogant geniuses" who had people who loved them to death, just as much as they had people who hated them to death.
“Thank you for the interview. I’ll organize the content and send it over to the office first.”
“Thank you!”
Leaving Label Echo Sound, Yoshida thought that he could see glimpses of those legendary superstars in Ha Suyun.
A short while later.
The spark ignited by the article uploaded to the online edition of Rock in Japan spread instantly, burning like a wildfire.
Interviews these days always beat around the bush to avoid controversy at all costs, and didn't even mention anything that could potentially become an issue. And everyone else just jumped on the bandwagon, blindly praising them. Group Sound’s interview was on a completely different level from those "ordinary" interviews.
• Our success is entirely because I did well.
• We've already achieved everything we could in Korea. Now it's time to conquer Japan.
• There is no band in our generation better than us.
• The Japanese band scene has been taken over by social media.
• Music these days all sounds the same. We don't make that kind of music.
• I am the greatest guitarist of this generation.
• Our music won't stop at Japan. We will expand to the world. Japan is just one of our stops.
An almost maniacal confidence and the arrogance born from it. Directness and blunt truths. An excessive honesty that recalled the rock stars who lived through the '70s and '80s.
Such raw honesty ensured that Group Sound was brought up wherever music was being discussed. And while it was impossible to get an exact metric on whether the reaction was more positive or negative...
“Is this... going to be okay...?”
“It’s fine! Look! There are way more people looking at this positively!”
In response to Hyun-ah’s murmur, Manager Jung showed her the data he had compiled. Twitter trends, screenshots, and various other materials. It was data showing that, overall, positive opinions far outweighed the negative.
Man, this is... Suyun twirled her hair slightly, recalling what had happened earlier. The suggestion Manager Jung had made before the interview.
“In Korea, because of... well, the school violence issue in the past, pushing this kind of persona could have sparked a massive controversy! But in Japan, they aren’t quite as strict about that! I think it’s completely viable! Besides, Japanese people absolutely love this kind of stuff!”
She had agreed to the idea of playing the "arrogant genius" persona, but she had never imagined the reaction would be this explosive. Maybe it’s because there was a bit of actual sincerity mixed in. Suyun hadn’t been satisfied with the script Manager Jung had prepared before the interview. With his consent, she had added quite a bit of her own personal opinions. That might have been why. Because her genuine thoughts shone through even on the printed page...
“But if we talk like this, does that mean we can’t play the kind of music we used to make at all?”
At that murmur, Suyun suddenly turned her head. Iseor was wearing a somewhat serious expression.
“What does that matter?”
“Well, if we say all this and then go back to making that kind of music, people might complain...”
“We literally said we used to make that kind of music too, and that we can still do it in the future.”
“Ah, is that so?”
“Hey, you were sitting right next to me listening to the whole thing...”
Iseor scratched her head sheepishly. Suyun let out a deep sigh. What was she going to do with this girl?
However, the question that followed forced Suyun to give it some thought.
“But we have the songs we’re working on now, and the songs you’ve stockpiled. What do we do with those? Even if we want to release them, the atmosphere makes it a bit awkward to just slot them into the kind of music coming out lately.”
“Hmm. True, that is a bit of a dilemma.”
Starting with Under the Satellite, they had a stream of "new style" music lined up for release. On the other hand, they had their existing tracks and the unreleased songs they had stockpiled. Since the styles were so contrasting, releasing them together would be awkward... and releasing them in alternating turns was equally tricky. It was a major headache that she had pushed to the back of her mind, but it was a problem they would have to solve eventually.
“I’ve... actually thought about that...”
“Do you have a good idea?”
“What if we separate them into a full-length album and an EP? Or maybe release them as a project of sorts... That’s what I was thinking.”
“Ah, that’s one way to do it.”
Hyun-ah proposed a solution to the problem Suyun had been mulling over. Suyun thought it was a pretty solid idea. Keeping them somewhat separate would allow them to have the best of both worlds... or something like that.
“Well, for now! We can discuss that part in more detail later! First, we actually received an offer for our next schedule!”
As Suyun was pondering, Manager Jung handed her a document. Suyun took it and read through it slowly.
Tokyo Wheel...
It was a document that could be summarized as a joint performance for indie bands.