My Complex Relationship with BTS
In a year that has become synonymous with depression, anxiety and isolation I found a sharp weapon to fight these difficult feelings.
For the first time, I ventured on the journey to full fandom experience. Little did I know at the start of this year, that over the course of the next 9 months I would be gradually building a personal relationship with BTS. Their artistry played an important role in keeping me somewhat stimulated and psychologically sound, while the pandemic oscillated between extreme and only mildly extreme.
My admiration of them went deeper than simple appreciation of their musical talents. Although we do not share many commonalities, including language, culture or age, I found myself relating to many of their personal experiences and felt comforted by their messages. As grateful as I feel for their metaphorical support during the year-long winter, I fear that were it not for the current pandemic and struggling mental health, my relationship with them would not be as strong, nor as perplexing. As my knowledge of said band, and the K-pop and music industry as a whole, increased, the more my feelings towards these knotted. At 20 years old, it is the most intangibly bittersweet relationship I have yet developed.
My first step on the ARMY journey started in February with the release of ON. I was invited into their world by their impressively complex, yet polished choreography, mesmerizing unique visuals and, of course, their music. The blend of four distinct, but equally smooth vocals, and three diverse rap styles was not something that I was familiar with. Being no stranger to foreign music, the Korean lyrics did not frighten me. The few English phrases thrown in were enough to outline the songs’ gist, but not enough to neglect the original Korean lyrics, thus inviting me to read translations and interpretations.
Simultaneously, I slowly fell down the YouTube rabbit hole. Compilations of their hilariously weird interviews and general atypical celebrity aura were intriguing. While I was intrigued by their performance and musicality, I stayed for their humanity and sincerity that are rare treasures in any industry — let alone one where celebrities reign freely.
My joy in witnessing the BTS & ARMY mikrokosmos is in part due to the timing of our meeting — moments before our world shrunk and monotony set in full force.
The soothing and sweet notes of Serendipity and Winter Bear lulled me to sleep in February. ON and Fire’s invigorating and strong melody played in my hall kitchen while dancing and cooking Korean noodles with my friend in March. Two weeks later, quick and sharp lyrics of UGH! and Cypher pt.4 held me together while waiting hours to disembark my emergency flight home, nauseous and writhing in pain. Over the course of the next (tiresome) months their albums, mixtapes and carefully curated playlists accompanied many moments of boredom, anxiety, sleep and rare occurrences of peace.
Their soft ballads and angry cyphers not only accompanied my day to day quarantine activities - they became an emotional release. I fervently looked forward to the countless performances, each with a different set list, unique theme and magnificent outfits. Every week brought new content to explore, surprise songs and livestream chats aplenty. Simply put, they cheered me up. I lived vicariously through their daily schedules and special events, to fill the void of socialising and outings. I was introduced to new methods of connecting with others, even with close friends halfway around the world.
However, as every ARMY can attest to, the BTS fandom experience stretches beyond simple content consumption. Each BTS release subsequently sparks a million other pieces of art that breathe life into a large, mauve universe. Personally, I became inspired to go against my scientific education and pursue new creative outlets — including drawing, painting and piano (and even a bit of fun with make-up). I found inspiration and comfort while punished by uncertainty in solitude. A priceless triumph that I will be eternally grateful for.
Between these lines of praise, there is a twinge of poison.
Through no fault of their own, I grappled with envy and inadequacy. As I witnessed BTS, and the industry at large, continue to live a seemingly pandemic-proof lifestyle, I was unsure of how to receive them. Come the height of COVID chaos, the band was climbing the billboard charts and smashing world records. They exceeded their own expectations of success, even in a pandemic. So yes, I felt bitter and could not refrain from punishing myself for not reaching personal success, even in an industry that I do not belong to. Although the sweet outweighed the sour, my relationship with them started to become blurred. I questioned whether it was okay to rely on their content to feel joy during difficult times. When does that reliance become unhealthy? Am I the only one who felt small in comparison to these industry giants? Setting boundaries was challenging; should I limit my addiction to one dose a day? A week? Go cold turkey? Then what? That hole will soon get replaced with a different form of content consumption. My personal struggle with purpose and comparison was spoiling something perfectly wholesome.
Reluctantly, you become increasingly aware of the dark side of Kpop, indeed the entire music industry. It looms over you like a dark cloud on a spring day. The excessive need to be “the” idol group often pervades each stage, interview, to materialise in the form of exasperated fan wars.
Yet you find yourself daydreaming, envisioning an alternate universe in which you too occupy a place at the idol dinner table. Entertainment companies lure you in by creating a perfectly manicured world that seems just out of reach. In an attempt to avoid further complicating my mind, I have decided to isolate my fandom experience from corporation politics. How can I compete with teenagers employing dozens of staff and stylists?
While I try not to equate the success of BTS with my personal failure, a twinge of jealousy follows the excitement of watching each member become victorious with every next accomplishment. As I ruminate, I comfort myself by the notion that there is no set formula that yields a similar result. There is something incredibly attractive in the once in a lifetime synergy shared by these seven artists, their label and millions of fans. It is deeply unscientific — unreplicable, untestable and unpredictable.
Entering my twenties, I am eternally thankful that their music has become part of my soundtrack of the most beautiful moment in life. I have been given the possibility to look back on this year with some fondness. But as I explore my own identity in terms of personal ambitions, there is a duality in attitudes toward the members that needs to be confronted and amended.
