BACK TO K-POP’S FIRST GENERATION: Kim Hyun Jung – Bruise

K-Pop’s first generation is often referenced as the foundation for the industry we enjoy now, but there aren’t enough good English-language sources that give its music the focus it deserves. I’m hoping to change that with a continuing flashback series, spotlighting personal highlights from the era – both iconic and obscure.

The era in question is often considered to run from the debut of Seo Taiji & Boys in 1992 to the emergence of TVXQ in late 2003. The music featured in this series will largely fit within that time frame, give or take a few years on either side.

It was a time of bonkers song structures, wild fashion, slamming techno beats, bad reggae impressions, flagrant use (theft?) of American hip-hop samples, hearty power ballads, foul language, the growliest rapper tones you can imagine and an anything-goes scrappiness that’s impossible to pigeonhole. To borrow the name of a popular second-gen act, these years were the “big bang” of an emerging musical powerhouse, still finding its footing and throwing everything at the wall.

Soloists were a much bigger presence in first-gen K-pop than they are now, and these performers ranged from emotive balladeers to dance divas. Kim Hyun Jung fits squarely in the latter category, making her debut in 1997 with a powerful dance sound. At the time, she was known for her long legs and – more germane to this blog – her immense voice. She has an identifiable shout-singing style that takes influence from traditional pansori. This works better in some settings than others, but can really bring the house down on a big dance anthem.

When it comes to dance anthems, you’re spoiled for choice in Hyun Jung’s robust discography. I’m choosing one from her third album The Third Eye, released in 2000. I think it’s an excellent example of her charm. Bruise (멍) immediately whisks us away into a high-octane club setting, its throbbing beats accentuating the emotion of the melody.

Bruise is fantastic from the start, but its extended pre-chorus truly sets things in motion. The melody here is very dramatic – like I Will Survive on steroids. This theatricality continues into the chorus, which goes for broke before giving way to an extended electric guitar solo that takes place of a second verse. It’s all very stirring and will have you wanting to sing along even if you don’t speak a lick of Korean. To connect this with more modern touchstones, Ailee’s uptempo work in the early 2010’s is certainly a descendant of this thrilling sound.

Grade: A