If any band can be said to have lost its roots, BTS is the first that comes to mind.
As one of the biggest Korean pop (K-pop) groups to date, BTS is often credited for the currently huge and growing presence of K-pop in the United States. Their big Western break came in 2016 with the virality of “Blood Sweat & Tears,” which spawned a massive career in the United States and beyond, one that is only growing bigger each year. In 2022, the group went on a hiatus to fulfill the mandatory Korean military conscription. Now, four years have passed, and BTS is finally back.
The seven-member group returned with their fifth studio album, “Arirang,” named after the Korean folk song of the same name. Supposedly an album that returned to BTS’ origins, “Arirang” feels far from the Korean roots it claims to have.
Since their rapid rise to fame, BTS has seemed to struggle to balance K-pop with Western pop. Compared to the often muted tones of Western pop music, K-pop seems characterized by a grand, almost caricaturized performance of the idea of pop, which is particularly evident in the wave of K-pop that emerged in the 2000s and 2010s. Popular third-generation boy group EXO were literally introduced as mythical superhero beings from the planet EXO upon debut.
Even if K-pop often leans toward ridiculous, the sheer level of commitment it has to its chaos makes it all the more unique as a genre. In contrast, BTS’ releases, particularly those from right before their hiatus, seem to completely reject this chaotic, ever-shifting aesthetic of Korean pop music.
Nothing is more evident of this than the band’s uninspired single “Dynamite” off of the 2020 album “BE.” Even at its worst, it is an inoffensive and catchy tune, but it is ultimately plainly boring. However, the biggest crime it commits is a fundamental betrayal of K-pop: The song is entirely in English.
While it is a logical choice that I can understand, as BTS was likely trying to break further into a market that seems to reject difference, what made the band special, even if at times contrived or flawed, was gone. It was in that choice to rely entirely on English lyrics that, for me, the group’s identity fractured.
Against this background, “Arirang” felt like an interesting declaration by BTS. It seemed to be a promise that they would be returning to the basics, particularly their roots as Korean artists. This adoption of a Korean title with important cultural history lost all weight immediately when the album’s lead single, “SWIM,” was released. A mellow pop tune, minimalist in both its production and vocal delivery, the song was once again completely in English. Additionally, the accompanying music video took place on a very traditionally Western ship with Lili Reinhart starring as its central character. It was certainly a different sound compared to their previous English singles, such as “Dynamite” and “Butter,” but so inoffensive that it feels as if general palatability took priority over genuine artistic expression.
The rest of “Arirang” is much the same. The production is sleek and was clearly made with longstanding industry professionals, as the recognizable names of the album’s producers — including Diplo and One Republic’s Ryan Tedder — displays. However, the spirit of K-pop and any sort of celebration or reflection are sorely missing. Even the album’s most interesting song, “Body to Body,” which samples the folk tune “Arirang” itself, falls short when immediately followed by the experimental, but misplaced, “Hooligan.” For an album named after such a recognizable pillar of Korean culture, it is both disappointing and disheartening to see the album so lost, caught between K-pop and Western pop.
“Arirang” is a Korean folk song telling the story of someone yearning over a love lost to the pursuit of more. It is a story that reflects much of Korea’s history, as well as the personal histories of the many Korean immigrants in the United States who left their homes in hope of finding something bigger and better in the unknown Western world.
Right as I was turning 12, on the verge of losing my mother tongue, my Korean school lessons long forgotten and living so far from the country that my parents once called home, BTS was my connection to Korea. Back then, I probably only really cared about the simpler things, like the performance and the music, but now, what makes those memories so precious is that BTS connected me to a past I thought I had no claim over.
BTS is likely as much of a cultural bridge for other listeners as they were for me, but in their pursuit of that something bigger, they seem to have lost a central piece of the musical identity that made them so meaningful. “Arirang” is an attempt to reinterpret their roots and celebrate their background amid their growth, yet the intent is blurred in the minimalistic and overly pristine songs on the album.
I am no longer that 12-year-old girl, but I sometimes wonder if I would have felt that same connection, that same sort of overwhelming sense of finding a hidden part of myself, if I had been shown the BTS of today and the polished yet empty “Arirang” that they sing.
