Many people would have been familiar with the first surge of the Hallyu Wave, AKA Korean Wave, and the resounding impact with which it hit Singapore in the early 2000s. You had classics like the Wonder Girls’ song Nobody and the iconic K-drama Jewel in the Palace, both being all the rage at the time.
That was my first exposure to Korean culture and K-pop – which did not make it onto my regular playlist – until I found myself with a lot of free time. This was when I was serving NS and in need of a distraction.
Enter Twice: a 9-member K-pop girl group freshly formed around the same time I entered the army. Armed with cute aesthetics, catchy pop hooks, and teeth-melting bubblegum fun, they were the whole package. The rest, as they say, is history. This is my story of how I became a K-pop fan 10 years ago.
“Cheer up” sang Twice – so I did.
Screenshot from: JYP Entertainment via YouTube
Twice was just the tip of the iceberg that led me to discover the treasure trove of songs and entertainment that is K-pop. I fell down the rabbit hole soon after, as I began to rapidly consume as much of it as I could, with the free time I had. It didn’t matter that, at the time, I didn’t understand the language. Music videos, compilation clips, variety shows – you name it – I was hooked.
And it wasn’t just Twice; there were plenty of groups to learn about – BTS, Blackpink, Red Velvet, and Seventeen, among others, at the time. I didn’t know it then, but I had already had my first peek into the fandom community.
My Spotify Wrapped last year – not an unfamiliar sight, I must confess.
Image adapted from: Adriel Ang
I would like to preface that I don’t think being a male K-pop fan is anything particularly impressive, nor does it make me special – I’m no martyr. K-pop and the fan culture surrounding it is just a hobby, a very deep and complex one to be sure, but a hobby nonetheless.
The K-Pop “fanboy” experience has its challenges, but my journey with K-pop has been entirely voluntary, and entirely my own – a sliver amongst the rich, diverse experiences that other people have with the genre.
Being a fan of a group and being in the corresponding fandom community don’t always overlap. You could be a fan and still support your favourite celebrities in isolation. On the flip side, you could be involved in the fandom community, where bonding over your shared interest is a common and vital part of the experience.
I’ve found that being involved in and engaging with a fandom can happen in a multitude of ways, including streaming, content creation, voting, and sharing sentiments with others over your passion.
Since discovering fandoms, I’ve realised that the cooperation and co-existence within the community is a powerful thing. In some cases, a fandom’s impact goes beyond camaraderie and becomes a force to bring about positive change outside of its origins.
Image credit: @u_wepurple via X
For example, local Singaporean branches of boy group BTS’ fanbase, AKA ARMY, raised thousands of dollars in funds and meals for frontline workers at hospitals all over Singapore during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Seeing others use their passion as an avenue to make a difference in the world has prompted me to reflect more deeply on myself. It’s easy to think that you are insignificant and unable to have an impact on issues around you, but witnessing other fans’ efforts firsthand has been inspiring when thinking about how I can influence the world around me positively.
Such efforts to support philanthropic causes come with no reward. They often stem from the shared love, support, and sense of belonging within the community, as well as a desire to pay forward the love they’ve received from their favourite artist.
I do think that particular sense of camaraderie varies among fans and is different for everyone. In my experience, I’ve been more ‘cautious’ and careful when interacting with fandom spaces. After all, being too impassioned about a less overtly masculine interest comes with its fair share of stigma. I am, by no means, the most committed or ardent fan out there, but I do have a respectable level of passion.
I consider the caution a real factor in how I consume my content, and I would categorise myself as an observer for the most part, happier to take in rather than create. While plenty of fans put real elbow grease into their dedication and support for their group, I am content to watch and cheer from the sidelines. At the end of the day, it’s heartening to see how so many fans spare no effort when supporting what they love – simply for the love of it.
Fans commonly create YouTube channels dedicated to their idols, filled with edited compilation videos that rack up millions of views.
Screenshot from: @affectaed via YouTube
Knowing that there are so many others also out there, tuned in and finding happiness in their own little corner of the world – it’s an assurance that, as a fan, you are not alone. That shared connection is both uniquely valuable and gratifying.
Image adapted from: Adriel Ang
At concerts, this feeling is especially strong where you are surrounded by strangers, all united by a singular commonality – that love for your favourite artist. Most K-pop groups and idols have their own special lightsticks, affectionately called “fan bongs”. It’s an integral part of the concert – fans bring them into the concert venues where they sync up with each other and transform the audience into a sea of dazzling lights. Beyond just concert accessories, these simple pieces of fan merchandise are transformed into symbols of identity and community.
I will admit, it can be a little awkward if you’re the only guy among a group of girls, but once the concert starts, everyone is focused on the stage, and you’re all just fans enjoying the show together.
As time passed, I’ve found, like many others, that I’ve gone through various phases as a fan. The feeling of liking an artist changes and develops over time – that interest can intensify or wane, and there are plenty of emotions that one might feel on their journey. From initial obsession to feeling some distance as time goes by, my interests have continued to evolve, but K-pop has remained a constant, albeit just one of the many hobbies I enjoy.
To me, K-pop is now reminiscent of a nostalgic childhood friend – there’s a feeling of it being dear to my heart in spite of how I’ve grown up and times have changed.
Legendary boy group Big Bang has a significant proportion of male fans within the fanbase.
Image credit: CJ ENM
In my personal experience, my interest in K-pop began as sentiments were already shifting. At the time, I had plenty of female friends – and a handful of male friends – who unabashedly enjoyed K-pop. Since then, some have remained as fans, and others have moved on, but seeing their excitement towards it made me want to delve deeper as well.
While I enjoy my share of girl groups, the stigma around liking male groups is interesting to think about. Years ago, telling people you like K-pop as a guy would be met with questioning of your sexuality, especially if you happened to like a boy group. Of course, liking boy groups because you are gay isn’t bad or shameful, but the assumption implies that you have to follow stereotypical, prescribed rules, even when it comes to your hobby. Regardless of your orientation, it’s totally valid to have an interest and find boy groups appealing.
Black Swan lends voice to an artist’s greatest fear – that the very art they do will one day cease to touch them.
Image credit: Big Hit Entertainment
As for the guy groups I like, I really enjoy listening to BTS, and the reason is simple. Most of their music is self-written and produced, bearing their individual stories and speaking to the heart. Songs like Run encapsulate the beauty and recklessness of youth, while other tracks like Black Swan express the pain of losing love for one’s artistic passions. It’s music made with meaning and intention, and you don’t have to belong to a certain gender to appreciate it.
Thanks to K-pop becoming more mainstream, I do think the stigma has decreased over time. As a result, fan demographics have shifted and are more balanced as the genre has spread further into popular culture. Some prejudice remains, but the experience of being a male K-pop fan is surely changing.
In the context of straight male fans, listening to girl groups is typical for obvious reasons. This is a genre that thrives on parasocialism, and groups pander to fans of the opposite gender. As a male, girl groups and female idols are marketed towards me, and not the other way around.
I think it’s also worth noting that it’s generally acceptable for any gender to like female artists, as opposed to male ones. There’s something about the flashy showmanship of female-led pop that attracts an audience. Even outside the realm of K-pop, the likes of Taylor Swift, Beyoncé, and Rihanna prove this point. I’d go so far as to say that Taylor Swift is the Western world’s version of a K-pop idol. Whatever the explanation might be for this, at the end of the day, the mass appeal is undeniable.
Taylor Swift’s 1989 album (left) and Red Velvet’s Cosmic album (right) come with many inclusions and goodies like posters, photocards, and lyric booklets.
Image adapted from: @throwaway876460, @CronoDroid via Reddit
As such, girls enjoying girl groups don’t quite come with the same connotations. The stigmas that persist seem to be mostly centred around guys listening to songs by boy groups.
I think there is an implicit societal expectation that demonstrating enthusiasm as a man towards something is only really acceptable when said interest is traditionally masculine, like a sports team. There are flagpoles of masculinity to uphold within the patriarchy, and it still rings true today. Even a quick Google image search of “kpop fans” only yields pictures of screaming fangirls, and not a single man in sight.
Image credit: @decomma_kr via X
As a fanboy, you consequently adjust, stifling forms of self-expression so you “fit in”. Some might feel it necessary to avoid discussing and overtly associating with their interest, or they may simply reject the genre completely. Although I’ve never been outrightly ashamed of the hobby, I’ve personally found myself limiting talk about it. Perhaps the passivity of my fandom experience is a subconscious result of this quelling of interest.
An old tweet from Jaden Smith – back then, he tweeted about K-pop A LOT.
Screenshot from: @jaden via X
The awkwardness of puberty comes hand in hand with self-conscious worry and wanting to “be cool” during one’s teenage years. But the funny thing about adulthood is that as you grow up, none of that really matters as much anymore.
No one bats an eye at any perceived obscure and niche interests you might have. I’ve embraced this interest and have become more open with it because it’s a part of what makes me who I am. I say, like what you like, and give yourself permission to enjoy the things you love.
Image adapted from: AsianWiki, PeopleAsia
K-pop male idols also typically diverge from the beauty standards of traditional masculinity and run counter to the Eurocentric ideals. K-pop’s growing popularity is important because, as a genre, K-pop still gets some flak and is not always taken seriously.
Asian men, once emasculated in the global realm, now have a place atop the stage. As an Asian man myself, it’s refreshing that elements of our genetic makeup are becoming more accepted and celebrated globally and not seen as less than.
The gendered separation of K-pop fanbases has always been a prominent and inescapable fact, as companies market male groups towards female fans and vice versa. The primary design of this culture is for groups to cultivate a hyperbolised “parasocial” relationship with fans and enable more spending on the product.
Messaging apps like Bubble allow users to engage in private “1-on-1” conversations with their favourite artists.
Image credit: NCT Jaehyun 재헨 via Facebook
It’s a relationship that’s capitalised upon purposefully by the companies, designed to nurture a sense of closeness between the idols and their fans. Mutual interactions via online platforms, fan meetings, and social media updates all contribute to your “relationship” with your favourite artists.
It is wild to think that not only are several of these interactions gated by money, but the astronomical cost of it all is disproportionate to the experience. For instance, fans can pay thousands of dollars for a chance to chat with their favourite idol for just a single minute or to simply snap a picture with them.
While parasocial feelings exist for fans of all genders, fangirls generally tend to exhibit more devotion and thus, engage in more aforementioned spending on their favourite groups. Seeing as those groups are usually boy bands, male groups enjoy the luxury of an extended shelf life as compared to their female counterparts.
As for me, I’m happy to buy an album or two as new music is released, but I’m not fond of this aspect of the industry. Not only is it bleak, but, to me, it cheapens and commodifies that fan-artist relationship.
Twice proves that it’s not impossible for girl groups to cultivate a loyal fanbase and extend their careers as a full group, but they are the outlier.
Image adapted from: JYP Entertainment
On top of all this, there’s always the risk that encouraging such a deep and loyal relationship can lead to excessively obsessive fans. It might be hard to find a balance, but boundaries should be drawn and kept in check by fellow fans, as well as the idols themselves.
If that self-awareness is there, then the “parasocial” nature of the relationship can be thought of as far more healthy and stable than how it’s usually conceived of. It’s a relationship filled with love, just with an appropriate distance.
TXT’s leader, Soobin, describes a singer’s relationship with their fans as being one of a kind.
Image adapted from: Big Hit Music
In an interview with Weverse Magazine, TXT’s Soobin spoke candidly about the special relationship between a singer and their fans. He described it as a particular kind of love that only occurs between an artist and their fans. Unlike friends or people in love, “they exist for each other and want each other to be happy and hope for better things for the other person than for themselves.”
The way I see it, if those parasocial feelings are less of an “I want to have and control you as a person” and more of an “I hope you are well and healthy” sort of sentiment, there’s hardly any harm to either party. I’ll admit – it is its own brand of strange, but these artists have been personally significant to my formative years. They’re the people whom I’ve shared my youth with, and it’s hard not to feel attached.
K-pop as a common interest has allowed me to forge and maintain strong adult friendships where friendships often devolve into catch-ups.
Texts and meet-ups aren’t limited to “How have you been?” and “What have you been up to recently?” Conversations and texts never run dry because there’s always something happening in the K-pop space, whether it’s new music, new discourse topics, or even new scandals or incidents. It’s easy to bring up new topics to just refresh the chat – events as simple as new MV drops can be reason enough to strike up a conversation.
Image adapted from: Adriel Ang
Through K-pop, I’ve forged many friendships, both offline and online, and have even managed to reconnect with old friends. That’s truly something I feel grateful for.
There are plenty of groups that I enjoy listening to, but I think there’s a reason why Twice stands out to me and why they continue to endure. Coming into their 10th year now, Twice are inspiring as artists, and when I look back at the past decade, I can see it is because of how they have grown. While things were changing and I was growing as a person, they did not remain stagnant but continued to grow from young amateurs to mature artists in control of their legacy.
They may have started out a bit clumsy and unpolished, but their journey has given me lessons and feelings that I cherish to this day. Meaning is what you make of the experience, after all.
Not only have I derived so much comfort and joy from their music, but they also remind me of the genuine strength and passion it takes to pursue what you love. I’ve learnt that talent can be brought to new heights with hard work – that diligence and perseverance are beautiful and brave. I’ve seen them improve and take ownership of the craft and music they put out into the world, and it’s admirable.
Seventeen, a 13-member boy group, performing at Singapore’s National Stadium.
Image credit: @pledis_17 via X
Alongside other long-lasting groups like BTS and Seventeen, Twice’s relationship with each other is something else that I’ve learnt a lot from – it’s not easy to live and work with so many people for a decade. In a world where individualistic mindsets are prized and rewarded, I’ve witnessed the love and strength behind their teamwork, their enduring friendships with each other, and how those friendships can be full, honest, and sincere.
All of these factors make me feel like, perhaps, the word “idol” isn’t too far off in its use as a title. More than just the music, these idols can truly inspire with who they are as people.
Finally, the core reason why I got to know and love the genre has to be the music. I’ve found that the groups I enjoy listening to the most are the ones who have a bigger hand in their creative process. That’s not to say everything needs to be solely executed by the group from scratch, but how the groups make music says a lot about them.
This applies to all genres of music, but when musicians produce and write music with personal meaning to them, there’s an authenticity that can’t be replicated. It resonates with their audience, and being able to capture intangible moments and feelings that way imbues it with meaning for all who hear it. I can hear my hopes, dreams, struggles, worries, and pain in their music, and I feel comforted.
At the same time, I think it’s equally important to acknowledge that K-pop is heavily inspired by, and takes from, many other genres of music. I believe taking the time to appreciate its historical roots and provenance is a key part of doing justice to the art you enjoy.
Girl group sub-unit Orange Caramel’s iconic sushi-themed MV for their song Catallena.
Screenshot from: Pledis Entertainment via YouTube
Plus, K-pop is really just fun – it’s unserious and an interest that’s easy to immerse yourself in. It’s campy and ridiculous in the best ways. With a plethora of diverse styles, aesthetics, and genres, there’s bound to be something for everyone.
Members often play specific roles within the group according to their official positions.
Image credit: The Pudding
There’s also an ongoing ideological discourse in K-pop about talent and what it means to be a good vocalist, but those considerations don’t matter as much to me personally. Not everyone can be Aretha Franklin or Adele. To me, it’s more important that a singer is able to convey the feelings and emotions of the song. The idea of perfection shouldn’t matter as much as connecting with the listener.
In Kent Nerburn’s book, The Artist’s Journey, he expresses a very fitting thought: “Not all art has to address eternal questions. Art, any art, can live by touching some common human sentiment in us as surely as it can live by touching some deep emotional taproot. To inspire, to console, to reveal, to calm, or simply to entertain – these, and so many others, are worthy artistic purposes.”
Objectification, capitalism and consumerism, underage exploitation, unrealistic beauty standards, misogyny, appropriation, intense media scrutiny and pressures, para-social relationships, et cetera – all of these are real systemic issues within the industry.
Although there are plenty of positives, it’s equally important to recognise problems perpetuated and upheld by the industry. Being able to detach yourself and retain some objective distance is essential in maintaining a balanced and healthy perspective.
Me at an anniversary cafe event for Twice back in 2021.
Image credit: Adriel Ang
They say that the music you grew up with is the music you end up listening to for the rest of your life. For me, now in my mid-twenties, it may still be a bit too early to tell. With K-pop, there’s a bunch of nostalgia that the music brings because they were essentially the soundtrack of my youth, but I imagine I’ll still be carrying it with me into the future.
Over the years, I’ve experienced many of the feelings that come with the gig, and I truly value them all. Maybe because it’s shaped me so much into who I am today, but, depending on how you approach it, K-pop has so much to offer.
Yes, it is a small and silly little hobby at times, and yet, it somehow manages to be enormous simultaneously. There’s a reason why it resonates with so many people – K-pop revels in it all, big and small.
For more fan perspectives:
Cover image adapted from: Adriel Ang
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