Has K-pop lost its essence through its (over) experimentation?

Writer Avier delves into K-pop’s ever-evolving soundscape, exploring how genre experimentation has redefined the industry while questioning what truly makes K-pop, K-pop

What comes to mind when one mentions the term “K-pop”?

For those old souls who witnessed the genre’s global birth back in the 2010s, bubblegum pop hits (think Girls Generation’s Gee (2010) and TWICE’s Cheer Up (2016)) may come to mind. Or it could perhaps be peppy electronic dance tunes like BIGBANG’s Fantastic Baby (2012) and 2NE1’s I Am The Best (2011).

Of course, other genres have occasionally made cameos. Take for example house music in SHINee’s View (2015) and R&B/Soul in IU’s Good Day (2010).

That said, with the meteoric rise of the genre in recent years, much thanks to legendary superbands like BTS, Blackpink, TWICE (the list goes on for sure, but I’ll truncate it here for succinctness), it would seem like K-pop has been redefined.

For one, coordinated performance outfits have been replaced with custom-made designer pieces for each group member in a way that complements one another. Long gone are the times when music videos were filmed in simple studio sets, as some have been substantively assisted with CGI and AI. Physical idols now stand alongside their virtual counterparts (like aespa and their virtual counterparts æs), and perhaps the latter can exist as an entity like PLAVE.

(L to R: Girls’ Generation in a music video still for Gee (2010) and Blackpink playing at Coachella in 2023)

I could go on and on about how K-pop today is different from say 10 or 15 years ago. But there’s a more fundamental and defining distinction – its sound.

For most artists, composition and the penning of lyrics have been outsourced to their agency’s A&R departments. What this essentially means is that in most cases, an external team offers a demo to the agency before the artists agree on which songs to use. 

On one hand, you could argue that this diminishes creative expression, but it’s an inevitable part of the (over)commercialisation of the industry. The result? The evolution of K-pop into a variety of unique sounds, exotic genres, or perhaps something that doesn’t completely reinvent the wheel.

One example would be the noise genre, which forms most of Stray Kids and ATEEZ’s music repertoire. There are traces of it in the former’s early days in Miroh (2019) and God’s Menu (2020); but it remains ever-relevant, as it re-emerges in the latter's newest release Adrenaline (2026).

 

Other oft-cited tracks that fit in this noise genre would include NCT 127’s Kick It (2020). Note that “noise” here is not to be taken literally as a derogatory expression, despite seeming sentiments from the general K-pop community. 

Some claim it’s a blanket statement for those songs which seem, as you’d have guessed, noisy. Yet, over the years, noisepop has also become a term of endearment used by fans of those groups above.

Another newer genre that’s commonly heard is Moombahton – a genre of electronic music which combines elements of Dutch house music with reggaeton. In fact, it makes its appearance in K-pop more than you’d think, through I-dle’s Latata (2018), Sunmi’s Gashina (2017) and Blackpink’s Forever Young (2019). Strangely enough, there’s a common thread through these tracks in that they’re all summer hits.

But Moombahton is not to be confused with Tropical House, a genre which emerged in the late-2000s and later also found in works of producers like Kygo, David Guetta, The Chainsmokers and more. In K-pop, it's usually found in songs which are “brighter” and boast a summer vibe. Some examples would be Taeyeon’s Why (2016), KARD’s Hola Hola (2017), Treasure’s B.L.T (2020) and more.

To be honest, the genres I’ve mentioned have gradually worked their way to insert themselves into K-pop tracks so much so that they’ve almost achieved mainstream recognition. 

In recent years, a few songs and their distinct styles have stood out to me. Take the animal howlings featured in Red Velvet’s Zoo (2017), for instance. Such sounds are uncommon in K-pop tracks, but it definitely added that touch of wildness authenticity here. Interestingly, SM Entertainment also released another eponymous track in 2021 as a collaboration between its fourth-gen idols.

Another personal track which caught my attention would be Idle’s Wife (2024). On the visual front, the quintet wore striking cyan wigs, which were already sufficient to grab eyeballs. The track, too, is goofy at best, yet enjoyable after a few listens; though some say its lyrics contain euphemisms.

Finally, it’s one of the most recently dropped tracks – none other than Blackpinks’ Go (2026). It’s definitely an oddball, in the sense that it doesn’t follow the formula Blackpink has stuck to. Even South Korean media Chosun Ilbo reported that the band’s “pink” element was absent in their new hit.

This was inadvertently met with some disappointment after their flashy and adrenaline-pumping Jump (2025). More so, since Go was fronting the band’s latest Deadline album. 

Personally, Go (2026) had more nays than yays. While it was musically amusing, I can’t fathom what they’re trying to put out, especially when a huge chunk of the track was pushing focus to its heavy bass lines. While some say that it’s a signal of Blackpink’s growth, Go pushes new boundaries that K-pop can explore in the future.

K-pop has not lost its essence just yet despite its experimentation, and I sure hope it doesn’t. Although I know that we’ll never get back to the second-gen sound (of simpler EDM and bubblegum pop), the newer acts in the scene are each coming up with unique sounds that somehow harmoniously find their place in the genre.