Journalist

Lee Dong Geon
  • BTS’ ‘Arirang’ album sparks debate as most key tracks use English lyrics
    BTS’ ‘Arirang’ album sparks debate as most key tracks use English lyrics The name “Arirang” carries unusual weight in Korea — a shorthand for shared sorrow, emotion and centuries of collective memory. So when BTS announced its fifth full-length album would be titled “Arirang,” many listeners expected something overtly traditional. But reactions split after the release, especially because most major tracks — including the title song “SWIM” — are largely in English. For some, an album called “Arirang” with English lyrics felt jarring. The debate raises a broader question: Is what feels strange the English lyrics — or the expectation that the moment “Arirang” is invoked, tradition must appear in a familiar, visible form? The question is not only about taste. Asking “Why English?” touches on where K-pop is headed and what people mean by “Korean.” The discussion also reflects a habit of treating identity as something that must be confirmed through obvious symbols — traditional clothing, a Korean-instrument sample, or Korean-language lyrics — before audiences feel assured something is “Korean.” Culture rarely works that neatly. BTS’ choice on this album is a hip-hop sound closer to the group’s roots. Hip-hop began with local and personal stories, but it has also become a global musical grammar. Within that grammar, English is the most widely shared language. English lyrics, in that sense, can be a delivery method rather than a surrender of identity. That shifts the focus: Before asking why English, it may matter more what the group is carrying in that English. In the article’s view, the title “Arirang” points less to a literal reenactment of tradition than to subtler layers: a structure that repeatedly builds emotion, a chorus that evokes shared feeling, and what the members described in interviews as a “sense that naturally seeps in as Koreans.” Korean identity, the argument goes, does not require a signpost. The piece also warns that the more artists try to display tradition too directly, the more it can become staging rather than inheritance — decoration that grows louder as emotion grows thinner, turning culture into a fixed image. “Arirang” itself, it notes, was never a single fixed song. Lyrics and singing styles varied by region, and the emotions attached to it changed over time. For some it was a song of parting; for others, a song of endurance; for others still, a song of resistance and comfort. Constant variation, the article argues, is part of why it endured. From that perspective, an “Arirang” sung in English is not an exception outside the tradition but another extension of it. A change in language does not automatically erase cultural identity, the piece says; the ongoing process of translation and movement across eras, media and audiences is closer to cultural vitality. Ultimately, the article says the controversy reflects more than discomfort with English lyrics. It suggests many people still define “Korean” too simply — as something that must be in Korean, must look traditional, and must carry instantly recognizable markers. By that standard, it argues, a souvenir shop might appear more “Korean” than a living culture. K-pop, the piece concludes, is produced for a global market and consumed simultaneously by listeners worldwide. In that environment, English is less a preference than a strategy. The key question is not what the strategy erases, but what it newly carries — and whether the urge to recognize “Korean-ness” too easily has become outdated. 2026-03-23 17:09:23