Sea by BTS: A Gentler Reflection

The ocean is often seen as a restorative place. The beach itself a space of self-expression, self-reflection, introspection, and peace. So much of the history of life on earth beginning and ending with the ocean. The symbolism of the waves pushing against the shore and pulling back, the risk and reward of the decisions we have made in our lives coming to a head. One of the few spaces in modern society that feels like a genuine refuge away from all of the outside noise to think, meditate, and ponder where we have been and where we want to be.

The Namib Desert. The real world inspiration

So it comes as a bit of a surprise that in an album (that album being Love Yourself: Her) with high tempo bangers such as DNA and MIC Drop that hidden away as a physical edition exclusive track to close out the album is a somber, existential, and quiet piece “Sea.” BTS aren't strangers to the ballad-like deeply personal piece and certainly weren’t when LYH released in 2017. But to see it on a record that marked a departure to their underground roots marketed towards an international audience as this was their first release with that wholly in mind.

Not exactly a surprise in the space of pop music in any country, especially that of Korea, I’ve come to expect compositionally simple, often times poetic, hard hitting, and meaningful lyricism to BTS’ comfort zone. Time and key signatures are as one would expect from a realm where accessibility is the name of the game. Rhythmic complexity is only occasionally explored and the instrumentation fairly rigid in its strict adherence to electronic sounds and drum machines. The medium of music has been more or less a vessel for BTS to be expressive and thoughtful in their artistry, the art-industry complex is always a place one can be cynical if they so choose, but most certainly at one’s own risk of missing out on works of art merely because they are “commercial” in their reputation.

According to RM, the leader of the group, the reason Sea was a hidden track “is so that if anyone really needs this song in their life, fate will guide them to it at the perfect time.” It’s an idiosyncratic way to go about any work of art. “You will find it when you need it” is almost a dare, to live a life that is fulfilling, and as Newton’s third law of action and reaction would have it, painful. “Only truly come back here when you are mature enough to understand it” is quite a bold message to send to the most ardent of BTS supporters. Though as usual, it is not done in aggression and not the first time they’ve done as such not only in their discography but in this very album as well. (See my essay on “Pied Piper” and why I believe it to be BTS’ most rebellious song).

The opening 15 seconds of the track is nothing but the sound of ocean waves. The push and pull of the moon’s gravity. The gentle, legato main guitar riff and echoing voices, sultry and smooth before a percussive slap and a much louder and more abrasive RM cues in. Describing the endless sand and rough wind as a “desert,” something so desolate and isolating, full of envy and desire he ended up swallowing the beauty he had once known. J-Hope agreeing with his friend, unable to tell the two apart from each other. The silky vocals of Jimin, brilliantly juxtaposed with the raw and uncompromising rap of the previous two with the most profound and honest lyric of the song: “where there is hope, there is always hardship.”

As the lyric is repeated by Jin and V a certain urgency takes hold. The beat becomes less distant, the percussive slaps become more hurried before giving way to Suga, the third of the rapping trio.

He echoes the sentiments of the previous two rappers, “someone’s empty spot is our dream” coming to terms with the more base instincts of the industry, that they, in essence, had to root against fellow humans trying to fulfill their dream in order to see BTS’ realized. “They say some of these kids can’t make it because their agency is too small.” The revolution BTS inspired with their international stardom coming from the most humble beginnings. Previously unheard of in the establishment of Korean music, governed so tightly by “the big 3” record labels of SM, JYP, and YG. Rags to riches stories DID NOT HAPPEN before BTS. “Times of when the seven of us had to sleep in one room. With foolish hope that tomorrow will be different before we fell asleep.”

“In the end we reached the mirage and it became our reality. The scary desert became the ocean with our blood, sweat, and tears.” They did the unthinkable. What no one ever thought they, let alone anyone, could do. They were rewarded for their endeavor, and beyond lucky because they took the chance everyone around them told them not to take. Their perspective of a desert, of wastes and toil, changed to that of an ocean, of infinite possibility. “But why is there fear in between the happiness?” The cold hand of reality takes its hold once again. Deceptive in its reminder that no matter how much it may feel like an ocean, it is an optical illusion, still a desert, just as it was before.

“Where there is hope there is always hardship.”

A contemplative RM, speaking English, atmospheric, cavernous, echoing, as the music takes a back seat to spoken word. “Ocean. Desert. The world. Everything. Is the same thing. Different name.” A slightly more involved variation of the guitar/piano riff we’ve been hearing the whole song, this time with more eighth notes. “Everything, is the same thing, with a different name. It’s life again.” Perspective is what got them to this point, how fortunate they’ve become, to step back and realize, it was all worth it, the pain, the pride, the agony, the exhalation, all of it serves a purpose. Even in the moments where we want nothing but hiding ourselves and fading into obscurity.

I think about the chorus a lot. Similar to that of a line from Bane in the final piece of Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight Trilogy: “There can be no true despair without hope.” Hope is an idealistic, unsullied desire. And it is in that cleanliness of the vision we must contrast against it with our own knowledge that it will never look as picturesque as we imagine it to be. We see an end, not a process. If not to necessarily “embrace” the discomfort, but learning to thrive in it. To not see a moral binary of the spaces we inhabit. It’s okay to make mistakes, for we are all still learning. And in learning to survive the discomfort, we only grow stronger. You’re allowed to feel this way. “We need to be in despair, for all of our hardships.”

And it will all make sense, eventually.