Showing posts with label k-indie. Show all posts

YEIN redefines classic


YEIN is a siren. Her voice sounds delicate, often with a seemingly whispered flow, but her serene storytelling floods listeners with emotions. Her first digital album “5” is available on Spotify. Here, she talks about pioneering her genre, Future Classic:

I just love to sing. I say what I want to and represent myself whenever I sing.

I think these are what I do best even when I’m still so into so many art forms. I like combining them. I consider art as one—you can separate and categorize them, but eventually they are one in a big way.

There are different stories in each and every song I write and sing. When I finish one, I listen to it and it makes me feel really peaceful—and I want people to experience the same thing. That’s why I think I try hard to bring in that kind of naturism feel, that kind of atmosphere into my music. I’d like to think that the tone of my voice could make them feel at ease and relaxed.

The story on YEIN




“This is the best interview I’ve had on this whole trip,” I told YEIN as we stood up to wrap up our conversation.

And I really meant it. It was already our third day in Korea for the Universal Music press junket and we had five interviews with K-indie artists scheduled on that day alone.

I needed a translator for most of the interviews I conducted during the trip, which badly made me want to study the Korean language all the more. (If I knew the language, I wouldn’t have to wait for my K-drama episodes to be subbed, too.)

A lot of things do get lost in translation, and I can’t stress how frustratingly true this was in my case. I felt like the artists I spoke to were opening up about a lot of things I couldn’t understand but wanted to know about—there was interest in their tone and sincerity on their faces as they explained and shared their experiences. I couldn’t even ask the right follow-up questions. I had a time limit to be concerned about as well.

The DΞΔN’s list


At Greenplugged Seoul, DEAN is a headliner—and hours before he even occupied the music festival’s Sky stage, the crowd on the standing zone begins to thicken, waiting for him to take the reins from his fellow hip-hop and rap artists. As DEAN begins his sound check, fans start cheering, while some are even close to crying.

The sun usually sets late in Korea, and as it melts on the horizon with hued streaks of orange and pink, the stage’s screen replicates the psychedelic colors, cueing the alternative R&B artist to start serenading the hyped crowd as the hour finally enters the night. The clock turns to 7 o’clock, and DEAN’s music begins to play.