Aju Press - Aasia News Hub

Journalist

Joonha Yoo유준하

ReporterCOEX Sejong Center for the Performing Arts & Music, Culture, Entertainment, Automotive

Joonha Yoo is a bilingual journalist at AJU Press (AJP), covering music, culture, entertainment and Korea’s automotive industry.
Raised in Fort Collins, Colorado, he often writes from the scene, bringing firsthand detail to stories ranging
from BTS comeback concerts to unique cultural events that catch the world's eye. "I write from the scene, not from the sidelines."

Latest by Joonha Yoo

A very Korean dream hatched in the country's most unlikely place SEOUL, July 15 (AJP) - Before Cheon Young-hwan tells visitors about Guryong Village, he tells them about his sons. Forty years ago, he walked down the hill from the cluster of shacks where his family had settled after being displaced by Seoul's redevelopment drive and knocked on the door of a stranger living across Yangjae-daero. He was not asking for money. Nor was he asking for food. He was asking to borrow an address. Without one, his two boys could not enroll in school. "I begged them," the 74-year-old recalled quietly. "There were many families like us." The family agreed. His sons eventually left Guryong Village. They found work, raised children and built lives elsewhere. His grandchildren have never lived in the settlement. Cheon still does. Every evening, he returns to the same small shack where his mother and grandmother once lived before him, separated from one of Asia's wealthiest neighborhoods by little more than six lanes of traffic. Few places reveal the contradictions of modern South Korea more vividly than this stretch of Yangjae-daero. On one side stand luxury apartment towers where homes sell for more than $100,000 per 3.3 square meters, their owners watching wealth compound alongside an AI-driven semiconductor boom expected to deliver South Korea's strongest nominal economic growth in three decades. Across the road lies Guryong Village, Seoul's last remaining shantytown. Yet after days spent walking its narrow alleys, sharing meals with residents and listening to stories accumulated over four decades, it became clear that the village's defining characteristic was not poverty. It was education. Almost every elderly resident spoke of the same regret. Not that they had lived in cramped houses patched together from scrap wood and corrugated metal. Not that coal briquettes still warmed their homes in winter or that rain leaked through aging roofs during the summer monsoon. What haunted them instead was that they themselves had never been able to study enough. That regret became the greatest gift they could offer their children. Nearly every family eventually sent the next generation away from the village, believing education offered the only reliable route out. They knew too well what opportunities they had missed, and refused to let their children inherit the same limitations. For Cheon, borrowing another family's address was simply one expression of that determination. For wealthier parents living across Yangjae-daero, the pursuit took a different form. Some purchased apartments inside prestigious school districts. Others paid fortunes for private academies or elite private schools. Separated by only a few hundred meters, both sets of parents were trying to solve the same problem. How do you give your child a better future than your own? That realization surfaced repeatedly inside Guryong Village. One resident who had recently moved into public housing after falling ill left behind a room blackened by mold. What remained inside was not furniture or valuables. It was books. Books lined dusty shelves. Books covered the floor. Books were stacked on desks beside handwritten notes pinned across the walls. Cheon explained that his friend had spent years borrowing books from neighbors throughout the village, reading them one after another before passing them on again. Learning, he said, was never a hobby. It was how people here remained connected to a world that had largely moved on without them. Even today, books continue to circulate from house to house, quietly exchanged among neighbors who still read almost every day. The village may have lacked many things. It never lacked curiosity. Only after lunch, as bowls were cleared away and conversation drifted toward old memories, did Cheon quietly suggest taking another walk. A few minutes later he stopped beside an overgrown patch of grass. We had passed it several times without noticing. "There," he said. At first there appeared to be nothing. Then, beneath the weeds, the outline emerged. A rusted steel swing frame. Its seats had long since disappeared. The laughter had disappeared long before that. Children once gathered there after school, Cheon recalled. Now the frame stood alone, slowly disappearing beneath waist-high grass that revealed just how many years had passed since anyone had used it. The children had not vanished because the village had failed. They had left because their parents insisted they should. That rusted swing may be the clearest symbol of Guryong Village. It is not a monument to poverty. It is a monument to parents who quietly gave up the chance to leave themselves so that their children never again would have to borrow another family's address simply to go to school. In that sense, Guryong Village may not be as different from affluent Gangnam as it first appears. Across Yangjae-daero, wealthy parents spend extraordinary sums securing admission to elite schools, private academies and neighborhoods prized for their educational advantage. Inside the village, parents sacrificed everything they had for exactly the same reason. One side bought opportunity. The other borrowed it. The dream was identical. 2026-07-15 13:49:34
The Struggles of Guryong Village: A Fight for Survival in Seoul The watchtower guarding the entrance to Guryong Village still bears the marks of past protests. Even when no one stands inside, the structure seems to echo the cries of its history. After passing the watchtower and walking a few minutes along an unpaved road, we finally entered the village: a deserted public parking lot overgrown with weeds, as if no car had entered for years. The air was damp and heavy, likely due to the rain the day before, creating a heat that would keep people indoors. Thus, we set foot in what is known as Seoul's last shantytown. On one side of the parking lot stood a small village office, where several residents were gathered. As we approached, their gazes sharpened. Even when we greeted them, they remained distant. “Are you a reporter?” someone asked. When I confirmed, the conversation ended there. “I’ve seen many reporters. But what good does it do to talk? Nothing changes,” said both the residents who had lost their homes to fires and those sitting in front of the office. Every time a fire broke out, news crews would swarm, labeling the area as “Seoul’s last slum” before leaving just hours later. Afterward, the village remained unchanged. Everyone avoided making eye contact with us, and some stood at a distance, silently watching our movements. Here, we were not welcomed guests but rather subjects of scrutiny. This sentiment persisted during our visits the following day. Guryong Village began in 1988, when people displaced by the redevelopment of shantytowns in the city gathered ahead of the Seoul Olympics. It grew large enough to be divided into nine districts, from District 1 to District 8. We parked and walked past piles of discarded trash and a recycling station for paper, eventually coming across a few makeshift mailboxes. They appeared hand-crafted, clearly waiting for residents to collect their mail. Nearby, a wall was marked with mysterious blue spray-painted numbers, the meaning of which we would learn later. The homes here were so cramped that “narrow” hardly sufficed to describe them. Though the structures were barely worthy of the name “home,” they were warm shelters for the families living within. Several tightly shut doors bore wooden boards nailed by the Seoul Housing and Communities Corporation. These boards were not placed randomly; they marked vacant spaces left behind by residents who had fallen ill, improved their circumstances, or ultimately left the village. One board read, “7-15-1 Vacant, legal action will be taken for unauthorized entry or damage, 2026.5.5.” Above it, an official notice was taped: “This is a temporary structure closed due to the resident’s relocation. Unauthorized entry or damage will be subject to penalties under Article 319 (trespassing) and Article 366 (property damage) of the Criminal Code.” The juxtaposition of the handwritten warning and the dry bureaucratic language reflected the reality of this village. With each departure, another board was nailed up. From this point, the path narrowed to barely allow one person to pass, winding along as we encountered forgotten toys and items once cherished by children who no longer returned to retrieve them. Abandoned bicycles, half-buried toy cars, and faded small objects seemed to wait for someone. This alley had once been a route to school for those children. Now, those children likely attended different schools elsewhere. The true face of Guryong Village began to reveal itself at this juncture, where the stench of garbage mixed with humidity made it hard to breathe. Early on, we discovered a bathroom tucked away in a narrow passage. Behind a firmly shut wooden door was a makeshift toilet, crafted from a chair to provide some comfort. Without needing further explanation, this single item told us much about the basic facilities in a place not even marked on maps. Ahead, we spotted a gravel road wide enough for vehicles, and we pushed through knee-high grass, battling mosquitoes and insects to reach it. Following the road, we came across a tent that appeared to serve as a shelter for fire victims, and beyond it lay an area of over 3,300 square feet covered with blue tarps. This was the site of a fire that occurred in January, where a single room had housed residents for their entire lives. In an instant, the flames consumed everything they had built over the years. The tarp stood as evidence of that moment and the last remnants of their hard-fought lives. As we moved past the tarp, a charred house caught our attention. Through the collapsed walls, we saw books left behind, scorched appliances, and cassette tapes, all waiting for their owners who would never return. Disasters momentarily returned this village to the evening news, but once the world’s attention faded, the burned homes remained. Residents spoke calmly about the fires, acknowledging that the houses were too close together, the paths too narrow, and the materials too flammable for anyone to believe the next fire could be completely prevented. We continued through the underbrush and discovered a house surrounded by a fence, its roof covered with a mossy blanket. Traces of a life fiercely protected for so long remained intact. Among the piles of trash, we noticed coal briquettes saved for the winter, alongside ashes that had already turned green with moss. This was preparation for another winter. As we navigated through tiny spiders, swarms of mosquitoes, and other insects, we arrived at a scene that starkly illustrated the current state of Guryong Village. On one side, a landscape that seemed uninhabitable, and on the other, a luxury apartment complex valued at over 40 billion won. Leaving behind that jarring contrast, we headed toward District 1, where people first settled in 1988. Through broken windows, we glimpsed belongings left behind during hasty relocations, and a once-bustling beauty salon stood with its door barely intact. Throughout this area, banners appeared, evidence that residents were still fiercely fighting for what they believed were their rights. Uncertain of when or how development would occur, they continued to endure. Over the course of two or three days, the residents’ initial wariness began to ease as we repeatedly traversed the same paths and encountered familiar faces. Those who had once avoided eye contact began to greet us or engage in brief conversations. Thanks to this gradual rapport, we encountered a truck delivering goods to the village. It carried everything from daily necessities to shoes, clothes, fans, and even rat poison. One resident purchased rat poison, commenting that the newer versions were ineffective and requesting the older kind. Nearby, residents we had not seen before gathered to examine the truck’s contents. A small supermarket appeared, selling groceries, snacks, and beverages like any other store in the city. Inside, an elderly woman quietly welcomed us in the dimly lit shop. As evening fell, a different kind of chill settled in. A few streetlights barely illuminated the path, and in the distance, a building caught our eye: a shining cross. Almost entranced, we followed the light, forgetting the mosquitoes biting us. The contrast of wealth became even more pronounced at night: on one side, the dazzling lights of the Gangnam apartment complex, and on the other, Guryong Village, where only a few streetlights struggled against the darkness. The scene we witnessed on our way out differed from what we had seen during the day. Cars that had been invisible earlier were now parked in various spots, and sounds of televisions and radios emanated from houses that seemed on the verge of collapse. Uncertainty loomed over when development would begin or when another fire might strike. Yet, amid this unpredictability, the residents continued to stockpile coal briquettes, repair roofs, and purchase rat poison, enduring each day. This quiet yet persistent struggle is the most significant battle being waged in Guryong Village. 2026-07-15 11:08:00
The Story of Guryong Village: A Korean Dream in an Unlikely Place Yangjae-daero, a six-lane road running through Gangnam, appears to be just another busy thoroughfare transporting commuters to the area’s luxurious officetels and high-end apartment complexes. Thousands cross this road daily, yet few give it a second thought.However, few roads in South Korea starkly divide two contrasting economic realities as this one does.On one side stands an apartment complex where prices exceed 200 million won per 3.3 square meters. The value of these properties continues to soar amid a boom in artificial intelligence, which has propelled semiconductor companies to become some of the most valuable in the country, and is expected to drive South Korea's nominal economic growth rate to its highest level in 30 years.Crossing the road reveals another side of Seoul: Guryong Village. Once thought unlikely to survive into the 21st century, this last shantytown in Seoul offers more than just a view of poverty. What stands out most is a deeply ingrained, quintessentially Korean dream: the desire to change one’s life through education.While walking through the village, we encountered a resident in a blue tank top, slowly making his way through the area. Cheon Young-hwan, born in 1952, was the first district head of Guryong Village. Unlike others, he did not seem wary of us, and he shared stories from the village's early days to the present.The challenges he faced mirrored the issues we had sensed since entering the village. He recounted that when he first arrived, Guryong Village was essentially an administrative blind spot. People lived there, but their addresses did not officially exist, which became a significant problem when his two sons were young.Without a recognized address, he could not send his children to the public school he desired. Consequently, he approached a family in a nearby apartment, asking if he could use their address for his children’s education.“I pleaded with them,” he said. “I was not the only one in this situation.”This story could belong to any time or place.Later, while interviewing people who had never visited Guryong Village, we were surprised to find how common such stories were, merely differing by location.A teacher from Bundang, one of the wealthiest neighborhoods near Seoul, noted that the top-performing students were often the ones who missed the most school. They would meet the minimum attendance requirements mandated by law and spend the rest of their time at private academies, progressing faster than in public education.A mother sending her daughter to a prestigious private elementary school stated that the school's appeal was not its curriculum but the lifelong friendships formed there. Cheon Young-hwan had struggled to find a way to send his sons to public school, while other parents, despite their children already attending good schools, poured money into private education in search of better opportunities. Ultimately, they were all seeking different forms of the same effort for better education.Cheon Young-hwan led us through a narrow passageway, barely wide enough for us to bend down to pass.He pointed to a friend’s house, which had recently been vacated due to health issues.The wallpaper was stained with mold, not a new development but a long-standing condition. Yet, remnants of his friend's dedication to studying remained throughout the room.Books scattered on the floor, more piled on the desk, and materials taped to the walls were evidence of someone who had lived and studied with great intensity. Cheon Young-hwan explained that his friend had borrowed books from various homes in the village to continue his education. Even as he prepared to leave due to health issues, he had not put down his books.For him, learning was the only way to survive and continue working in this environment. Eventually, his health deteriorated, forcing him to leave the village.We were also allowed to enter the adjacent house, which had been vacated a bit earlier. This home still contained belongings left behind during the move, and a few dusty books were neatly arranged on a shelf. While not as desperate as the previous room, it too bore signs of someone who had not abandoned their studies.Throughout the village, we encountered similar traces. In one home, newspapers were piled high, evidence of someone who diligently kept up with current events every day. For the residents here, learning was not confined to the walls of a school; it was a persistent effort to connect with the world and survive.Days later, we returned to Cheon Young-hwan for a meal, hoping to learn more about life in Guryong Village. His refrigerator held an unfinished bottle of makgeolli and various side dishes, and during our meal, we occasionally forgot we were in Guryong Village. It felt like dining at a grandparent's home.Cheon Young-hwan now lived alone in the same house where his mother and grandmother once resided. Like him, many residents had initially sent their children to school outside the village, remaining in Guryong to work.His sons had grown up and long since left the village he still calls home. The same goes for his grandchildren. “They all left,” he said.“When it was time to go, I told them to go.”Families with students still living in Guryong Village are not much different. They spend time outside the village and only occasionally return.Those who remain do not view their lives as particularly difficult. What they regret most is not having pursued further education themselves and not being able to raise their children in a better environment. Perhaps that is why they have all sent their children away from the village.Understanding their own thirst for knowledge, they do not wish to pass that thirst onto their children.Their passion for learning came too late, and they are determined that their children should not have to walk the same path they did.This is the most earnest form of love these parents can offer.Nevertheless, they continue to hold onto their desire for learning, still igniting that passion. They borrow and return books from one another, continuing their education. This is not merely a hobby but a lifelong commitment to survive and keep working.After finishing our meal and continuing our conversation for some time, Cheon Young-hwan led us back outside, pointing to a spot along the path to his home.It was a place we had passed several times without noticing.Only then did we realize what it was: a rusted swing set standing alone.It had no meaning until someone mentioned that it once echoed with the laughter of children. That laughter had long since faded, precisely because it had been driven away in pursuit of better schools and futures. What remained was the quietly rusting swing and the overgrown grass surrounding it, a testament to how long this place had been empty. 2026-07-15 11:04:00
KOSPI makes modest recovery after sharp plunge, but KOSDAQ stays volatile SEOUL, July 14 (AJP) - South Korean stocks rebounded Tuesday after the previous session's steep selloff, although another sell-side sidecar on the junior KOSDAQ showed continued volatility in the local market. The benchmark KOSPI rose 49.90 points or 0.73 percent to close at 6,856.83. The modest gain followed another volatile session. The index opened 0.56 percent lower at 6,769.06, climbed to an intraday high of 6,979.92 and later fell to 6,448.86 before recovering into the close, a swing of more than 530 points. Foreign investors bought 952.3 billion won worth of shares, while institutions purchased 3.22 trillion won. Individuals sold 4.14 trillion won. Semiconductor heavyweights led the rebound. Samsung Electronics gained 3.34 percent to 263,000 won, while SK hynix rose 3.69 percent to 1,913,000 won. SK Square, the chipmaker's largest shareholder, added 2.50 percent. The gains came despite weakness in artificial intelligence (AI)-related semiconductor shares overseas. SK hynix's American depositary receipts (ADRs) fell more than 9 percent overnight in New York, while Japanese memory-chip maker Kioxia fell as much as 6 percent. Among other large-cap stocks, Hyundai Motor fell 4.39 percent, KB Financial dropped 3.33 percent, Samsung Life Insurance lost 2.76 percent, Samsung Biologics declined 2.29 percent and LG Energy Solution slipped 1.98 percent. Hyundai Pharm surged 29.84 percent to its daily limit after President Lee Jae Myung said during a Cabinet meeting that the government should consider allowing medication abortion. The company holds Korean distribution rights for a combination drug containing mifepristone and misoprostol that is awaiting regulatory approval. Shipping and energy-related shares also advanced as oil prices remained elevated amid renewed tensions surrounding the Strait of Hormuz. STX Green Logistics surged 29.92 percent to its daily limit, Heung-A Shipping gained 4.46 percent and Heunggu Oil rose 8.93 percent. The KOSDAQ, however, failed to join the rebound, falling 15.38 points, or 1.92 percent, to close at 783.98. The junior index briefly climbed above the 800 mark before falling to an intraday low of 749.76, its lowest level in more than a year. Foreign investors sold 247.2 billion won worth of KOSDAQ shares, while individuals and institutions bought 72.9 billion won and 158.7 billion won, respectively. The Korea Exchange activated a sell-side sidecar at around noon after the KOSDAQ 150 futures contract fell 6.08 percent and the KOSDAQ 150 index dropped 6.25 percent, exceeding regulatory thresholds for more than one minute. It was the 20th KOSDAQ sidecar this year, surpassing the previous annual record of 19 set during the 2008 global financial crisis. The intervention came a day after both a sell-side sidecar and a circuit breaker were triggered on the junior market. Among major KOSDAQ stocks, Alteogen tumbled 11.7 percent, while semiconductor equipment makers VM and PSK gained 19.0 percent and 10.2 percent, respectively. The won strengthened 0.43 percent to 1,493.10 per dollar. Oil prices remained elevated after U.S. President Donald Trump announced plans to reinstate maritime restrictions targeting Iranian shipping. West Texas Intermediate crude traded around $80 a barrel, while Brent crude hovered near US$85. Japan's Nikkei 225 gained 0.7 percent, China's Shanghai Composite rose 1.4 percent and Hong Kong's Hang Seng Index added 0.6 percent. Later this week, investors will turn their attention to U.S. June consumer price data and earnings from major U.S. banks including JPMorgan Chase, Goldman Sachs and Bank of America. 2026-07-14 17:24:11
TWICE's sold-out Seoul finale concludes yearlong world tour SEOUL, July 13 (AJP) - K-pop girl group TWICE wrapped up their sixth world tour with three sold-out concerts at KSPO Dome in southern Seoul over the weekend, JYP Entertainment said on Monday. The yearlong tour covered 81 shows across 44 locations around the world, marking one of the group's largest global concert tours so far. The "THIS IS FOR" tour began at Inspire Arena in Incheon in July 2025 before traveling across Asia, Oceania, North America and Europe. Along the way, TWICE became the first overseas act to hold a solo concert at Tokyo's National Stadium and the first K-pop girl group to perform at Hong Kong's Kai Tak Stadium. TWICE attracted about 550,000 fans across their North American shows, the largest audience for a North American tour by a K-pop girl group, according to JYP Entertainment, and about 640,000 fans across their Japanese shows. The Seoul finale used the same 360-degree stage setup featured throughout the tour, placing the main stage at the center of the arena and opening seating on all sides. The concerts featured a live band and a career-spanning set list that moved from recent songs including "THIS IS FOR," "OPTIONS" and "MARS" to earlier hits such as "Like OOH-AHH," "TT," "CHEER UP," "What Is Love?" and "YES or YES." The group also performed solo and unit stages, including the first Korean performances of "TAKEDOWN" by Chaeyoung, Jeongyeon and Jihyo and "Confetti" by Mina, Momo and Sana. The final concert on Sunday was streamed worldwide through Beyond LIVE. At the end of the show, the members thanked "ONCE," the group's official fandom, for supporting the tour and hinted that another tour would follow. "The long journey of the 'THIS IS FOR' tour has come to an end," the members said. "We were able to finish it safely because of ONCE. Thank you sincerely for your support and love." TWICE, which debuted in October 2015, will celebrate their 11th anniversary this fall. 2026-07-13 17:38:42
Leeteuk, Heechul team up as subuit for Super Junior SEOUL, July 13 (AJP) - Leeteuk and Heechul of K-pop boy group Super Junior have teamed up as a new unit, their management agency SM Entertainment said Monday. Their six-track EP, "Promise," under Super Junior-83z, named for their shared 1983 birth year, is set for release at 6 p.m. later in the day. Reminiscent of the nostalgic sound of the 1990s and 2000s, the song centers on a heartfelt confession delivered through the duo's contrasting vocal styles. Its music video, directed by Walala Studio, a production team that includes fellow Super Junior member Shindong, tells the story of two close friends who reconnect years after their school days. The EP also includes one solo song from each member. Leeteuk's "Bad Name," which he wrote, is an R&B pop track built around bass and brass. Its lyrics use a relationship as a way to explore the desire to break free from false emotions and move beyond past trauma. Heechul also wrote his solo track, "GODOGNAM," a brighter song about a man who has grown comfortable with solitude before unexpectedly falling in love. Other songs on the EP include "SOLOVE," which compares love to the sun; "ONSAEMIRO," about remaining by someone's side; and "More Than Love," which portrays friendship as stronger than romance. Super Junior, one of the first major K-pop groups to build long-running subunits, celebrate their 21st anniversary this year. 2026-07-13 11:32:09
K-pop boy band Stray Kids to release new album next month ahead of world tour SEOUL, July 13 (AJP) - K-pop boy group Stray Kids will release a new album next month, their management agency JYP Entertainment said on Monday. Slated for release on Aug. 7, the EP "This & That" features all eight tracks produced by the group's production trio, 3RACHA - Bang Chan, Changbin and Han - including the prerelease single "RUN IT," which dropped on June 24. The trio have written and produced Stray Kids' songs since before the group's official debut, starting with the pre-debut track "Hellevator." Ahead of the album's release, teaser posters featuring the members' individual images have been unveiled one by one. Following the album's release, Stray Kids will embark on their world tour, beginning with five concerts at KSPO Dome in southern Seoul in July and August. They are also scheduled to perform at "Rock in Rio," the biennial music festival in Brazil, in September before bringing their newly launched "STRAYCITY" festival to Latin America, with stops in Bogotá, Buenos Aires and Mexico City. 2026-07-13 11:06:59
BTS' 'SWIM' lawsuit centers on alleged path from demo to hit song SEOUL, July 10 (AJP) - A copyright lawsuit over BTS' chart-topping single "SWIM" is focusing not only on alleged musical similarities, but on how an unreleased demo may have traveled through Los Angeles' songwriting and publishing network before reaching people involved in the hit. Three Los Angeles-based songwriters, Steve Cooper, Jon Sandler and Greylyn Johnson, filed the case in the U.S. District Court for the Central District of California on July 8, accusing HYBE-related companies, Artist Publishing Group and several of the song's credited writers of copyright infringement. BTS and its members were not named as defendants. RM is credited as a co-writer of "SWIM," but neither he nor the group is listed among the parties being sued. The defendants include HYBE, HYBE America, HYBE Music Services, Big Hit Music and songwriters Derrick Milano, James Essien, Le Clair, Ryan Tedder, Tyler Spry, Sean Foreman and Kirsten Spencer. The plaintiffs say they completed their own song, also titled "SWIM," in March 2025 and circulated a demo to music industry contacts in Los Angeles. According to the complaint, the demo was sent to executives at Artist Publishing Group and to other managers and publishing figures. The plaintiffs allege that the song was later shared with people connected to writers who worked on BTS' version. That alleged chain of access is likely to become a central issue in the case. In music copyright disputes, plaintiffs generally must show not only that two works are substantially similar, but that the accused creators had a plausible opportunity to hear the earlier work. The complaint does not identify direct evidence showing that BTS or every credited writer personally heard the demo. Instead, it lays out what the plaintiffs describe as a path through publishers, managers and songwriters that may have connected the two works. To support their case, the plaintiffs commissioned a preliminary analysis from musicologist Alexander Stewart. Stewart's report claims that the two songs share similarities in their title-based hooks, melodies, rhythms, harmonic structure, lyrical themes and recurring synthesizer patterns. Stewart argues that both tracks rely heavily on two chords without establishing a clear tonal center, creating what he describes as a floating, aquatic sound. He also compares the repeated use of the word "swim" and melodic phrases that follow it in both songs. Those findings are allegations submitted by the plaintiffs and have not been tested in court. HYBE and Big Hit Music had not publicly commented on the lawsuit as of Friday. The plaintiffs are seeking damages, profits tied to the song and injunctive relief. In an alternative claim, they argue that they should be recognized as co-creators and receive a share of past and future earnings from "SWIM." The case comes after "SWIM" became one of the biggest releases of BTS' career. The song debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, while the group's fifth studio album, "ARIRANG," also opened atop the Billboard 200. This is the third copyright case filed against HYBE-linked entities in recent months. In May, four Los Angeles songwriters sued HYBE, ADOR and NewJeans over the 2024 single "How Sweet." On July 7, New York publisher All Surface Publishing sued the same companies over NewJeans' 2023 track "ETA." Both cases are unrelated to the SWIM lawsuit and involve different songs and claimants. 2026-07-10 16:53:12
NCT's Jaehyun drops new solo single SEOUL, July 10 (AJP) - K-pop boy group NCT's Jaehyun has released his new solo single "99 Degrees," his management agency SM Entertainment said on Friday. The single, a ballad that Jaehyun helped write and compose around the idea that love can make an incomplete person feel whole, will also be released on major global music-streaming platforms at 6 p.m. here, with its music video available on YouTube. The song opens with a restrained piano line before gradually building into a fuller instrumental arrangement. Near the end, the instrumentation pulls back, leaving Jaehyun's vocals at the center. "99 Degrees," which is one degree below the boiling point, symbolizes an incomplete state. Rather than viewing that missing degree as a flaw, the lyrics use it as a metaphor for finding completeness through another person. The music video follows a similar arc, with Jaehyun revisiting places tied to his memories before letting go of the pressure to be perfect and learning to embrace imperfection as part of moving forward. "I am happy to share '99 Degrees,' a song I worked on with a lot of care," Jaehyun said in a press release. "I hope listeners can also feel the meaning of finding something complete within imperfection," he said. "I hope the song brings a small sense of comfort to Czennies (NCT's fans) and everyone who listens to it. "99 Degrees" marks Jaehyun's first solo release since completing his mandatory military service in May this year. It follows his debut solo album "J" in 2024 which included tracks such as "Forever Only," "Horizon," and "Unconditional." 2026-07-10 15:14:32
TWICE to wrap up largest-ever world tour with sold-out Seoul finale SEOUL, July 10 (AJP) - K-pop girl group TWICE will wrap up their world tour with three sold-out concerts in Seoul this weekend, bringing to an end their yearlong run of some 81 shows across 44 cities across the world. According to JYP Entertainment, the three-day encore concerts, starting Friday at KSPO Dome in southern Seoul, will conclude "THIS IS FOR," their largest-ever tour since their debut, which began in Incheon in July 2025. A 360-degree stage will be used for all three shows, allowing fans to watch the group from every angle instead of just one end of the arena. Meanwhile, the yearlong tour reflected the group's steady expansion from arena venues in Asia to major stadiums across North America, Japan and other key markets. In North America, TWICE performed 35 concerts in 20 cities including 13 first-time stops such as Boston, Montreal, Vancouver and Washington. The leg drew about 550,000 fans, the largest audience ever for a North American tour by a K-pop girl group. Japan was another milestone on the tour. In April, TWICE became the first K-pop act to stage a solo concert at Japan National Stadium in Tokyo, attracting about 240,000 fans over three days, or roughly 80,000 per show. The group also performed at Japan's four major domes during the tour, bringing total attendance for their shows there to about 640,000, according to the agency. Elsewhere in Asia, TWICE staged their first solo concerts in Hong Kong, Kaohsiung, Macau and Taipei. The group attracted about 110,000 fans over two shows at Kaohsiung National Stadium and about 120,000 across three concerts at Taipei Dome. The Hong Kong stop also made TWICE the first K-pop girl group to hold a concert at Kai Tak Stadium, one of the city's largest venues. The scale of the tour reflects how far the group's live presence has grown since their first concert tour in 2017. Across six tours, the nine members of TWICE have now performed 188 concerts in 59 cities, setting a K-pop girl group record for both the number of cities visited and solo concerts held. This weekend's encore concerts come ahead of the 11th anniversary of TWICE's debut in October 2015, serving as a retrospective of the group's journey. 2026-07-10 14:52:51