“Guilty pleasure never killed nobody,” Eunchae sings in the pre-chorus to Le Sserafim’s electropop single “Spaghetti.” Such is the experience of watching the MV, which is self-aware about its weird surrealism. “Spaghetti” gives Chaewon bright orange hair and Yunjin glowing teeth, depicts the members dancing in on a dinner plate, and at one point places Eunchae in a bowl of tomato soup. By the end of the MV, spectators’ heads explode into spaghetti. With such outlandish scenes, the MV brings fun and camp largely missing from Kpop releases this year.
“Spaghetti” is also a diss song, one seeming to stem from the intense online scrutiny they faced after their performance at Coachella last April. At one point, the hate escalated so much that the group turned off comments on their social media accounts. Rather than confront this backlash aggressively, “Spaghetti” takes a cheekier approach. Through their wacky MV, Le Sserafim express that no matter what, haters will still “eat up” what they release.
The spaghetti concept works cleverly on a few levels. In the MV, Le Sserafim come across as powerful when they are cooking. The MV uses highly stylized effects in scenes of Yunjin and Sakura as chefs, almost making the background look out of a comic book. Yunjin is also particularly memorable for her sneer when she declares that the group is “bad bitch in between your teeth.” Le Sserafim reclaim the ridicule they have faced by turning tomatoes (something thrown at performers who are disliked) into a dish that people crave. During the final chorus, the members and others get splashed with a red liquid resembling tomato juice, but they find a way to enjoy the messiness.
Eating is also an apt metaphor for consumption in fan culture, fueled by desire for gratification. While presented playfully, eating also appears as something slightly grotesque in the MV. In the chorus, during the line “eat it up,” a retching sound appears in the background, and the members mimic vomiting in the choreography. Moreover, as the members’ food becomes more popular, the crowds of people grow more insistent. The MV portrays netizens as loud, messy, and insatiable.
“Spaghetti” excels in its concept, but is more mixed musically. The synth bassline and the punchy, guitar-driven chorus are infectious, sticking more in one’s ear with each listen. At the same time, the song as a whole feels underdeveloped. “Spaghetti” aims to project nonchalant confidence in its consistent medium tempo and whisper-talking in the verses. Without a bridge or outro, though, the song does not gain momentum in the way one might want or expect. In the context of an already overstimulating MV, the abbreviated structure and minimalism work, but the song does not stand as well on its own.
Some dynamism comes from J-Hope of BTS, who features in the second verse. His flow initially matches the beats, and then grows more gritty and energetic. Surprisingly, his section integrates relatively well with the rest of the MV, even though he obviously filmed in a different set and the aesthetic is darker and sleeker.
With clever word play in both English and Korean, J-Hope’s verse also serves as a bridge to “Spaghetti” talking more explicitly about haters:
I’m the main character in your kind of drama
Your guilty pleasure, your high-calorie Hershey chocolate
A tarot that shakes you, the flavor you savor
Okay now, from hater to believer, brr
The rest of the song has a bit more edge, delving further into the thin line between “hater” and “believer.” After the feature, the song transitions right into the third verse, with Kazuha sassily insisting, “Don’t give a fuck what you say.” At the same time, the choreography feels more in-your-face, with sharp popping moves. The third verse calls out that the amount of attention that haters devote actually resembles the energy of a fan:
Yeah, you just say you hate it
What happened to your diet?
Sneaking a bite when no one’s looking
You better stop lying
“Spaghetti” does not directly portray these haters, but does suggest how people’s behavior is performative. The MV highlights its artificiality by opening with a clapper board and an intro sequence, set in a yoga studio with supersaturated, candy pink walls. The participants move between their poses in synchronization, but look bored and dissatisfied. Le Sserafim’s food truck barrels through the walls of the studio, providing much needed excitement. Some of these gymgoers might try to maintain the pretense of a diet, but either way, they cannot resist what Le Sserafim serve. The inclusion of these actors provides a commentary on K-pop fan culture, with all fans and haters both steadily consuming idol content.
As an aside, Le Sserafim spotlight several drag queens in the MV, which is not altogether surprising given that they previously platformed the House of Juicy Couture in “Crazy.” While that MV paid homage to the ballroom culture tied to the house music genre that Le Sserafim often perform, “Spaghetti” seems to value drag queens for their creativity and self-expression. “Spaghetti” understands that the exaggerated physicality of drag and artifice of camp aesthetics can provide very real social commentary.
“Spaghetti” might not be Le Sserafim’s strongest song, but together with its music video, it makes a bold statement through playful commentary about the obsessive nature of fan culture. Le Sserafim smirk knowingly about the fact that all attention, whether positive or negative, is a form of consumption. They know audiences will eat up what they serve, but with “Spaghetti” they deliver with a deliciously clever concept.
English (US) · 