Chapter 146 : “Outdated Genre? Even Better”
Chapter 146: “Outdated Genre? Even Better”
Lee Jeongin was an excellent vocalist.
That was the first impression I had.
Her pitch was perfect, as if tuned, and her pronunciation was neat.
Her tone was good too. The weight I had felt in the radio live video was fully intact.
Even so.
‘…Why does it feel awkward?’
What struck me first wasn’t admiration—it was a sense of dissonance.
She sang well. That much was certain.
Everything was neat, as if measured with a ruler.
Not only that, she clearly understood the emotions that <Crossing Tomorrow> needed to convey.
This wasn’t something she sang once or twice.
It was as if she had waited just for this moment.
She must’ve practiced and refined it endlessly.
But that was all.
Something was missing.
Just one sliver. Half a step’s distance.
“Hm…”
Lee Jeongin was someone who knew how to express emotions.
She perfectly reproduced the emotions of <Crossing Tomorrow>.
But I couldn’t tell why she was singing this song.
It felt like she was mimicking someone.
Like she was wearing my cover—an extremely elaborate copy.
I slowly opened my mouth.
“First of all, you’ve grasped the emotions properly. But…”
At the word “but,” Lee Jeongin flinched.
She probably sensed it too.
That this was cushioning.
The song she had just sung didn’t sound like it expressed emotions, but rather explained them.
It felt like she was reciting them in a tidy and clean voice.
A voice that pondered more on what to show than what she had felt.
So I wanted to ask.
Why did she choose this song?
How did these lyrics resonate with her?
If she couldn’t answer properly, this would be nothing more than a stage to show off a polished cover song.
If the perfect emotions she just delivered were someone else’s imitation? I’d probably be disappointed.
Then what was that voice I heard on the radio?
Which one was the real her?
With that in mind, I asked Lee Jeongin,
“Do you like this song?”
“Yes.”
Her nervousness was obvious.
Of course it was.
When she was singing, her expression was really…
She looked so absorbed in the song, it was as if she had been pulled right into it.
She must have been satisfied.
So my reaction must have confused her.
There are singers like that.
Especially when covering someone else’s song, they have that look that screams, ‘I can sing this well!!’
That was exactly how Lee Jeongin looked now.
“Why do you like it?”
Lee Jeongin brushed her hair back.
Some questions are so simple that they’re actually hard to answer.
This was probably one of those.
“Well…”
She briefly moved her lips, then answered with sparkling eyes.
“It’s just… good, you know?”
“Sorry?”
This time, I flinched.
The flustered look she had just moments ago was completely gone.
“How should I say this… The melody is just so good. Each and every note feels like it pierces right into my heart.”
With her fists clenched tight, she continued explaining.
“When I listen to it, the melody just pours into my heart. That’s why I like it.”
For a moment, I was at a loss for words as I looked at her.
Then, seeing my silence, she burst out with words like, ‘Whatever, I don’t care anymore,’ all over her face.
“Geez. So what if I like it? I just kept listening to it and singing along because I liked it. Isn’t everyone like that? Huh? Am I the only one? You too, right, CEO?”
Wow… dragging the CEO into this? That’s legendary.
Is this the boldness of an idol?
Still, I didn’t dislike this kind of boldness.
Yeah. Songs are just good sometimes.
I heard someone stifling laughter behind me.
Lee Jeongin didn’t get flustered and confidently squared her shoulders.
“I listened and sang along so much… I think I ended up getting pulled into the writer’s emotions without even realizing it. Have you never experienced that, Writer?”
Instead of answering, I looked down and let out a small laugh.
Lee Jeongin’s words weren’t persuasion, analysis, or logic.
They were pure sincerity.
Maybe that’s why.
I didn’t understand, but somehow I accepted it. Strangely enough.
I slightly shifted the direction of my question.
“You must’ve sung <Crossing Tomorrow> a lot.”
Then, another member cut in instead of Lee Jeongin.
As if she absolutely couldn’t hold it in.
Pounding her chest with her fist, she answered in her stead.
“It’s not just ‘a lot’!”
“Really?”
“She sings it all day long. Even before bed, she sings it! Our vocal coach literally begged her to sing something else!”
This time, the youngest joined in.
“Thank you for releasing a new song, Writer Stay.”
“Huh? Out of nowhere?”
“If you hadn’t, we’d still be stuck on Avalanche. Before that, it was Super Ride.”
Ah, so that’s the kind of person she is. Got it.
There are many types of music maniacs in the world.
Some, like me, listen broadly across many tracks.
And others, who dig deep into just one song they’re obsessed with.
Right here, just like Lee Jeongin.
“I like that attitude.”
“Heh…”
Maybe it was because this was the first compliment to come out of my mouth.
Lee Jeongin smiled bashfully.
This flow was good.
I decided to keep it going.
“Then could we check what song you used to sing over and over again?”
“Well… um…”
What now.
Lee Jeongin shriveled up again.
This time, it wasn’t me she was watching—it was her members.
In that case.
It was better to clearly explain what I wanted.
“The song you sang on the radio. Could we hear Janet Jackson’s <Call on Me> again? I get the feeling that’s the one you sang nonstop.”
Lee Jeongin’s eyebrows twitched.
Whether it was denial or agreement—
That, I didn’t know.
What I did know was that the song suited her voice perfectly, as if it had been tailored to her.
A woman sings and a man raps.
It was similar to the kind of song I was envisioning too.
But then, why wasn’t she answering?
I asked again.
“You seem to like R&B. I’m curious what other songs you enjoy.”
Lee Jeongin nodded vigorously and finally replied with excitement.
“I like Janet Jackson’s Again, and Have You Ever by Brandy too. Oh! Diggin’ on You by TLC—I always listen to that before bed.”
“Huh?”
I let out a sound of admiration.
That was a song I liked, too.
I’d heard it so often I could hum the melody instantly, and just hearing the intro riff would make my head nod by reflex.
Late ’90s to early 2000s R&B was the real deal.
That’s an undeniable fact.
Melting emotions with a slow tempo.
R&B sung in a low and mid-range voice is pure bliss.
Of course, the song I had in mind was even more saturated than those.
Lee Jeongin clearly understood the strengths of her own voice.
She kept listing songs she liked.
And every one of them was a song I knew and liked too.
It was truly fascinating.
These were songs released and popularized before we were even born.
A whole generation had passed, and yet they were still talked about as classics.
That’s one reason why I love music.
Even after time passes, even across generations—
A good song still moves people’s hearts.
No need to overthink it.
If you hear it and like it, that’s enough.
I got excited too and rambled on.
“Monica’s Angel of Mine is amazing, right? I think it would suit your voice well, Jeongin. But how did you get into R&B?”
“In high school. What about you?”
“For me, it was in elementary school.”
“That’s even more surprising!”
We went off on an R&B appreciation spree like we were soulmates.
“My mom always had it in her car. On CD.”
“CDs?”
“Yeah. CDs… Oh, right, people use Bluetooth now, huh?”
At my answer, Lee Jeongin chuckled.
The tension from earlier had completely disappeared, and her expression softened as she replied.
“My mom was a huge R&B maniac too. Out of all of them, she especially loved Call on Me. So naturally, I started liking it too. I kept listening to it, and eventually, I just kept singing it. That’s how it goes.”
The moment I heard that—
My face flushed.
I remembered the expression she had when singing <Crossing Tomorrow>.
Trying hard to explain, but in the end finishing with, “I just sang it because I liked it.”
Maybe that really was everything.
Singing because you like it, mimicking because you enjoy it.
Can we say that kind of emotion isn’t real?
I smiled awkwardly.
That feeling that doesn’t make sense, but you still understand—it’s called sincerity.
Maybe I had judged her a little too quickly earlier.
“Then could we hear one more song? Another R&B track.”
“Yes… Wait, huh? Um…”
What the—?
After going on and on with me about R&B, why did she suddenly look so down?
Am I just too clueless to follow the delicate emotions of a girl group?
Lee Jeongin hesitated for a moment, then shifted her gaze to her members.
I followed her gaze too.
Why… why were they all making such disgusted faces?
I leaned toward Lee Jeongin and whispered.
“But why are the other members like that?”
“Oh, maybe the writer doesn’t know.”
“Know what?”
“About R&B.”
What about it?
With a question mark floating over my head—
Lee Jeongin shut her eyes tight and shouted,
“These days, people say listening to R&B makes you seem like an old guy…!”
Huh? What did she just say?
What? R&B is for old guys?!
Tae-yoon and Dong-yoon stood there with dumbfounded expressions.
Meanwhile, the Lumière members all nodded in agreement.
CEO Kim Minsoo and the Lumière Manager simply observed the situation silently.
Following Lee Jeongin’s shocking revelation, Tae-yoon collapsed onto the floor in despair.
“Oh my god…”
“Tae-yoon, are you okay?”
“The world’s going to ruin…!”
It couldn’t be helped.
Times had changed.
Ordinary listeners in their teens and twenties were already dismissing R&B as “emotional Black music that moms and dads listen to, with a sprinkle of Korean-American pronunciation.”
Taeyoon asked Dongyoon,
“Still, isn’t that a bit harsh of a description?”
“Can I be honest?”
“Yeah.”
“…It is kind of an old-guy vibe.”
“Really? I didn’t think it was that bad…”
“When have we ever listened to music just because it was trendy? Composers don’t need to worry about that stuff.”
That’s what he said, but—
Seo Dongyoon also agreed with what Lee Jeongin had said.
Regardless of personal taste or how he viewed music.
That was the reality.
A&R Team. The front lines of pop music, right?
Given the nature of the job, which requires keeping up with trends faster than anyone else, they closely monitored how listeners perceived things.
Taeyoon, coming to his senses, turned to Kim Minsoo and asked,
“Sure, R&B isn’t trendy right now, but does that mean we should only do trendy music?”
At that, Kim Minsoo instead replied with surprise,
“Aren’t you the composer who fits trends the best?”
“Huh? Me?”
“Yeah. Every time you write a song, it just nails what the public wants… What are you even talking about?”
Taeyoon responded as if he had no idea what he’d done wrong.
“I’m not really… the type to follow trends, though?”
The reactions to Taeyoon’s answer were varied.
The Lumière members just blinked.
The Lumière Manager shrugged.
Only Seo Dongyoon nodded in understanding.
Kim Minsoo asked again, looking incredulous.
“If that’s not trend-chasing, then what is it?”
“I tailored it to the artist.”
“So you’re saying it just happened to match the trend well?”
“That’s… one way to put it, I guess.”
“Wow… They say the line between genius and lunatic is paper-thin. What do you think, Team Leader Seo?”
Suddenly, all eyes turned to Seo Dongyoon.
As if to say, You’re his hyung, so explain this for us.
Dongyoon answered calmly, without being flustered.
“I don’t know about genius, but lunatic? Yeah.”
A small laugh rippled out.
Even in this atmosphere, Taeyoon continued speaking clearly.
“It’s true that R&B is harder to listen to these days. But saying everyone’s just chasing trends feels off to me. That’s why people say today’s songs all sound the same.”
This time, Kim Minsoo replied.
“Ballads and light band songs are steady. But genres like R&B, hip-hop, or heavy metal—those with strong identities—definitely ride trends. From a company’s point of view, it’s more appealing to go for stability than gamble.”
It was a sharp perspective, fitting for an entertainment company CEO.
“Stability, huh…”
“People usually think the music their parents’ generation listens to is old-fashioned. That’s why we talk about generation gaps. For your generation, R&B or classic hip-hop probably feels that way.”
“Then what about your generation, CEO?”
“Trot?”
Now Taeyoon finally understood the flow of the conversation.
They say even rivers change in ten years.
Not just rivers—music styles change too.
Music trends differ depending on the generation.
No matter how open-minded a listener you are—
Your mindset as a listener should be different from your mindset as a creator.
Especially if you’re making commercial music?
Accurately grasping the public’s needs is also a key virtue.
Kim Minsoo calmly started summing things up.
“Trends always come back around. In short cycles of ten years, or long ones of twenty.”
Then, pointing at the air as if tracing history with his finger, he said:
“In the ’70s it was folk and trot, the ’80s had ballads and pop rock, the ’90s brought R&B and rock ballads… The 2000s were about hip-hop and real ballads, and in the 2010s, EDM and idol dance hit hard.”
“So what about now?”
“Minimal K-pop and city pop? Songs that focus more on mood than rhythm are the trend now.”
“Ah…”
Taeyoon nodded quietly.
Now that he heard it, it made sense.
It’s just that, since he listened to music without prejudice, he had been a bit slow to catch on to the trends.
Music changes outfits with each generation.
The current of trends shifts without warning, before anyone realizes it.
Who would’ve thought that even R&B would one day be called “parent music”?
“But CEO.”
Taeyoon chuckled.
To Kim Minsoo, who asked Why?, Taeyoon replied like this.
“R&B… You called it a genre that’s had its day, right?”
“I mean, yeah, but… Hey, what’s with those eyes?”
Seeing Taeyoon suddenly grinning, Kim Minsoo stepped back.
But Taeyoon replied unfazed.
“Then can’t we be the ones to make it trendy again?”
In that moment, every eye turned to Taeyoon.
“Back then, trot was treated like a has-been genre. But one audition show brought it back in full force.”
“True…”
“Trends are something you create.”
With a firm closing statement, Taeyoon turned his head to the Lumière members.
Then he said this:
“By who? By us.”
Everyone was left speechless, watching Taeyoon smile slyly.
This confidence couldn’t even be compared to what Lee Jeongin had shown earlier.
It was unwavering confidence.