In this op-ed, writer Chyenne Tatum explores where K-pop has thrived in 2024, and argues that an obsession with charts is keeping listeners from exploring new music.
If you discovered K-pop 10 years ago, you’d have found that the average person in the U.S. knew very little (if anything) about the genre. Even if they were mindlessly dancing along to PSY’s “Gangnam Style” choreography, chances are, they still wouldn’t be able to define it as a K-pop song — it was seen just as a quirky moment of virality. Today, you mention K-pop and even a non-listener could rattle off at least one or two groups they’ve heard, or maybe even have basic knowledge of the genre in general.
What used to be an encounter filled with confused stares and a mixed bag of questions like, “What’s K-pop?” or “How do you even know what they’re saying?” has largely turned into positive conversation starters with the help of powerhouse groups such as BTS and BLACKPINK and the groups that came before them. That mainstream success has made K-pop more readily accessible in the Western market than ever — tours, albums, merch, it’s all there. And yet, without fail, someone is always yelling into the void about how K-pop in [insert any year here] is declining in popularity and overall general appeal, specifically in the U.S. So, is K-pop falling off?
Ironically, it’s an interesting question when asked in good faith, with a curiosity about how K-pop and the music industry globally are changing. Since BTS managed to become the face of the industry pre-enlistment era with a series of no. 1 songs, many wondered how the industry would hold up in their absence as a group (they’ve continued to release music as soloists): Would K-pop’s momentum in the U.S. come to a screeching halt, or would it just be business as usual? Fortunately, it’s been the latter. Of course, long-time K-pop fans knew that would be the case — because the real success of K-pop is not rooted in one group but in the industry's ability to have multiple groups thrive simultaneously.
Therefore, the short answer is no. Although the industry is currently experiencing growing pains in more ways than one, K-pop is nowhere near falling off. If it were, ATEEZ wouldn’t have become the first Korean idol boy group to perform at Coachella this year and end up being one of the most talked about performances of the festival. Stray Kids wouldn’t have collaborated with one of the biggest Hollywood blockbusters of the year (thank you, Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman!). And, of course, veteran soloist IU wouldn’t have sold out her entire first U.S. tour in less than 20 minutes — 16 years into her career. The genre at large is still thriving, as various groups and soloists continue to make interesting music that resonates with their fans; simultaneously, K-pop as an industry continues to have impact with the launch of global groups like KATSEYE and VCHA.
A prime example: the incredible virality and success of BLACKPINK’s Rosé with “APT.,” a surprise collaboration with Bruno Mars that marks her first solo venture after signing with Atlantic Records and parting with YG Entertainment (though she’s still under YG for BLACKPINK activities, and her management company is The Black Label, under YG). “APT.” arrived without much fanfare on Oct. 17 — no big marketing push, no flashy announcement, just two seemingly random Instagram posts from Rosé and Bruno respectively, highlighting the night they hung out to play a Korean drinking game. The pop-punky, Ting Tings-tinged “APT.” has already set the fastest record for a K-pop female solo artist and the second fastest for any K-pop singer, surpassing 100 million streams on Spotify within seven days of its release.
The tune has also earned both artists their first Perfect All-Kill (an achievement where a song simultaneously reaches number one on the real-time, daily, and weekly components of South Korea’s Instiz iChart) and Mars’s first Korean music show win on M! Countdown. A hit like “APT.” is what happens when the bridge between K-pop and Western pop organically meets in the middle; it’s a mainstream pop hit sung in English, but it incorporates Korean popular culture and Rosé’s experiences. Perhaps it’s the spontaneity of it all or the novelty of seeing a renowned artist like Bruno Mars in the mix — either way, “APT.” is proof that K-pop isn’t just coasting on established fanbases and trending sounds; it’s still thriving and evolving every year.
If you look closely, a negative mindset about the future of K-pop almost always feels perpetuated by consumers who only follow and keep up with one group. Meanwhile, fans who follow multiple artists (multis, as they’re called) will likely have a vastly different take on the matter. Regardless, what started as a niche interest to quench consumers’ thirst for innovation has become an obsessive numbers game rather than a quest to discover and enjoy new music. We’ve already seen how this is present among the pop girls at large, with fans of artists like Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, Olivia Rodrigo, Billie Eilish, and more constantly comparing their favorite singer’s achievements as if they were their own. It’s toxic, pointless, and takes the fun out of participating in fandom online.
Over the years, fan culture within K-pop has largely been reduced to questions like, who has the highest album sales? Who has the biggest streaming numbers? Who has the most no. 1 hits on Billboard? While it’s great to acknowledge and celebrate the success of our favorite artists, these questions are usually turned into ammunition during fan wars, when one fandom tries to assert dominance and superiority over another based on stats. (And often leads to harassment and bullying, which we see escalate to affecting the groups themselves.)
Of course, not all K-pop enjoyers are like this — just the loudest ones. Somehow, they’ve convinced themselves they are the judges of whether or not we’ve had a “good” year in K-pop. But in reality, what we need to ask ourselves is: who’s creatively pushing the envelope right now and showing incredible musical growth and versatility? Who’s genuinely just having the most fun and making music that reflects that?
P1Harmony, for example, released one of the most cohesive studio albums earlier this year; that would be true even if it didn’t get to no. 16 on the Billboard Album 200. (A number some K-pop stans would even argue isn’t “enough.”) Regardless of the chart, it’s a great album, and notably, from artists in a relatively smaller company that isn’t one of the “Big 4” (HYBE, SM, JYP, or YG). Meanwhile, the K-pop girl group renaissance of the past few years continues to generate great songs alongside massive success and notoriety across the board for groups like aespa, (G)I-DLE, NewJeans, LE SSERAFIM, IVE, NMIXX, and many others. Objectively, we know which groups are reaping the most tangible benefits from their success; that part is easy. Subjectively, however, success and true creativity are not as clear cut as the charts make it seem — charts are an industry mechanism for quantifying art and generating wealth, and many fans of popular music are taking them as value judgments.
Who is to blame for this chart obsession?
It’s not all on the fan to avoid falling into gamified art. That kind of competition, of course, is what companies want. As the demand for global popularity in K-pop rises, the supply has exponentially followed suit, with the number of group debuts almost doubling what it used to be a decade ago. For context, 47 groups debuted in 2013 — in 2023, that number increased to 85. One critique I think deserves a more nuanced conversation is companies’ obsession with debuting instant phenomenons, groups that are just expected to thrive and transform into superstars overnight. Ever since K-pop’s explosion in the U.S., labels seem to have prioritized American success, and they want it right out the gate, which often results in a watered-down version of what made K-pop special in the first place in favor of appealing to an American audience.
Everyone’s so busy searching for “the next BTS” that I think they forget even BTS had to find their footing before fame and fortune came along. Due to the genre’s massive peak in recent years, the perception of K-pop and its status within the U.S. has certainly shifted. Idol groups are now held to impossible standards, constantly compared to their predecessors, peers, and sometimes, even successors with how “global” they can be. But it doesn’t stop there — corporate figures are even analyzing and trashing idols they deem their competition, as seen with the recent HYBE documents drama.
Although having high standards and wanting to see immediate success is ambitious and strategically sound, it almost eliminates the thrill and pride of seeing idols grow, learn, and gradually work their way up the ladder until they’ve made it. We see it in Western pop, too, with viral TikToks leading to artist development deals that can end up going nowhere; a young artist can languish for years before eventually being dropped from a label if they can’t build an audience in time. When these K-pop groups fall short, even just a hair, their contributions are suddenly discredited, as if they have nothing to offer if it’s not having a commercial impact. Sure, they may not have had a strong start in terms of mainstream appeal, but isn’t it much more satisfying to see what they grow up to be? That’s what growing pains are for — if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. After all, everyone loves a good underdog story.
My favorite example of the “slow burn” appeal is NCT 127. Debuting in 2016 from SM Entertainment, the neo-culture-focused group already had some big shoes to fill, following in the footsteps of legendary labelmates such as EXO, SHINee, and TVXQ. Although they were poised to become the next biggest hit in K-pop, NCT 127’s colorful debut with “Firetruck” left much to be desired from the general public. It didn’t take long for online criticisms to pile up, calling 127 the first “flop” from SM Entertainment. Mind you, they had only been on the job for like, eight business days at this point, and had already entered the Gaon Album Chart at no. 2 with their debut album. While “Firetruck” was considered an acquired taste for some, the song still managed to find a home with fans who could think outside the box and see the bigger picture. Critically, it may not have had the staying power of other iconic SM-fronted staples, but musically, NCT 127 became the poster child for pushing creative boundaries and setting a precedent for how K-pop would penetrate the Western market for years to come. Eight years later, they’re now considered one of the most influential boy groups of their time; you can’t rush success stories like this and certainly can’t predict it based on debut sales.
From a fan perspective, if you get into this genre with no expectations other than to be purely entertained, you’ll get along just great. But suppose you come into it with a competitive mindset, relying on one group to push whatever superiority narrative you see fit. In that case, you’re already limiting yourself to the endless possibilities of what your K-pop experience can truly be.
You can’t control how an artist is perceived in the West, or if they’re even perceived at all. In K-pop’s early days, Western fans were just happy to be along for the ride, regardless of whether their faves achieved overseas success or not because most times, they didn’t. Do you think the average person in the U.S. is familiar with Block B, B.A.P., or Fiestar? Probably not. Does that matter to third-gen K-pop stans when they see these groups reunite in 2024 after years of disbandment and hiatuses? I promise you, it doesn’t, because as long as these artists maintain relevance in Korea, they’ll survive — Western charts be damned.
This genre isn’t a “one size fits all” scenario; just because you’ve chosen to ignore the dozens of hit songs we’ve had in 2024 already, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Allow yourself to look beyond the flashy accolades of K-pop’s elite and see the genre for what it is: music. I’ll even lend some of my own recommendations. Maybe you want to get into Korean rock bands — ONEWE, LUCY, and Rolling Quartz are right there. For R&B, check out Jaehyun’s debut album J, and Baekhyun’s Hello World. Venturing into house music? LE SSERAFIM will definitely keep you company on the dance floor. For co-ed groups who specialize in everything from reggaeton to dancehall, hip-hop, electropop, and more, stan KARD.
Part of the fun of K-pop is that it does push boundaries visually, aesthetically, and sonically, drawing from many influences and cultures. And part of the fun of being a K-pop fan is relishing in that imaginative playland where fantasy and reality become one and the same — so turn the volume up and the narrow-mindedness down.
