Amateur Recommendation Hour: Sailing (AKMU)

Today’s recommendation is another one of my considerations for the best Kpop albums of the 2010s from one of my favorite artists in all of Korean music. I am continuously impressed by these siblings' artful perspective and strive to always be their individual selves in an industry that often demands some form of rigid conformity. They choose to be as artistically individualistic as any in their space, and under the banner or one of the four largest record labels in Korea, that in and of itself is an accomplishment and a blessing.

Akdong Musician’s (AKMU) 2019 album ‘Sailing’ represents a stylistic departure for the brother and sister duo of Lee Chan-hyuk and Lee Su-hyun in terms of the usual quirky and eccentric tone they employ in favor of a more subdued and solemn sound. Since it is by far the most personal of their works thus far I’d say that’s the best decision they could have made. Lee Chan-hyuk wrote this album while fulfilling his military service out at sea (hence the name):

“With no guitar, I had to write the songs with just a pen and a notepad which meant that I had to write down the lyrics and melodies and just try to remember them by singing repeatedly.”

Chan-hyuk’s reasoning for doing his mandatory service early was primarily for creative inspiration as he had been feeling blocked in that regard. I’d say it served the purpose he was hoping it would. Delivering not only the most personal of Akdong Musician's work to date, but also catapulting the duo out of the "cute-kids" stigma they had been stuck in at the beginning of their careers, blossoming into a much more matured and well traveled sound and tone with their style. The instrumentation and tone used consistently and varied smartly when needed is a highlight for the flow of the album to be listened to in it’s entirety front to back.

Dealing with themes of personal freedom, aimlessness, relationship failure, and hope it is by far the best AKMU effort to date. Listening to the album again for this write up I really can tell the environment and place in which he wrote the majority of the songs absolutely played a huge role in determining the tone and sound that this record would take. Drifting in the open and seemingly endless abyss at sea, in an unfamiliar and unforgiving environment as any kind of militaristic conscription would be, there's a lot of time for introspective reflection both of the nostalgic, and self-destructive kind. In fact, I’d like to tell you the story of his journey, as I experienced it through their art.

The album opener “Chantey” gives a gentle listlessness takes its time and makes its impact. This is the departure, the unwanted homesickness beginning to spread. Gentle guitar chords and melancholic violin drag their feet and whimper along with Su-hyun’s low dynamic vocals and weary tones. There is a possibility I come back someone neither of us recognize. The adjustment period of new place, new people, unable to escape the abyssal waters around me. I must make it home, or try my best. As much as I need this, I’m scared.

“Fish On The Water” picks up a month later, the adjustments have been made, the upbeat tone suggests a comfortable and safer feeling. The previously gentle guitar is boisterous and in a particularly festive mood. Care-free and hopeful, it’s hard not to read this as being sung with his crew-mates, his brothers in arms. We’ll make it guys. We can make it. 

“How Can I Love The Heartbreak, You’re The One I Love.” It speaks for itself. That was not the shore leave I was expecting. This distance isn’t my fault, if we had it our way, there was nothing that would pull me away from you. As he sings “We walk along together upon the desolate road, conversation lacking substance.” The minimalistic instrumentation and vocal harmonies paint a picture of an unsatisfied conclusion for both of us, to what was thought previously, an unbreakable romance. The high octave violin harmony the jabbing pain of a powerless loss. “Moon” continuing on in the grieving process, it’s not as imminently painful as it used to be, these weeks later as I’m back out on sea looking up at the starry sky, full moon in tow. Lackadaisical percussive slaps and acoustic chords remind of the good times, the undeniable impact you made in my life. It’s the smiles and tears that weave an emotionally complex web as I drift off to sleep dreaming of what we were and what we could have been.

“Freedom” is the halfway mark. I’m climbing down the mountain, I can feel the wind behind me and I absolutely love it. There is a brilliant sense of rising action without the payoff conveyed through the muffled instrumentation and the driving guitar harmony. And when we reach the chorus it is not an exclamation but an exhalation, a relief of being closer to home. To be free of the responsibility, to have space to myself again, to start new things that have been put on hold. The end, a cliffhanger of unresolved and unfinished business. “Should Have Loved You More” the frustration is evident in the crunchy electric guitar chords. Why am I still bothered by this, it was almost a year ago I really should be over it, but it’s hard not to feel like I could have treated you better. I blame myself in reflection that in the heat of the moment I could have never taken responsibility for. It’s such a silly frustration at this point.

“Endless Dream, Good Night” is the final third of the journey. And it’s a beautiful empty cavern enhanced by the atmospheric harmony and percussion in the chorus. The unknown is equally exciting and unclear. All that space I’m not used to having, cramped at sea with people who I’ve started to grow tiresome of. It’s exciting, it’s tantalizes me but will I be able to adjust to something I’ve wanted for so long. That doesn’t make sense.

“Farewell” is an odd thing to be saying upon my arrival back home. But this isn’t a farewell in the physical form or to someone else I know. I’ve come back a changed person. Someone I don’t recognize, and I’m not sure if I like them. I’m not even sure I really know HOW to be them at this point. It’s hard to say goodbye to the innocence of youth when it is violently ripped away from you in a militaristic setting you had no say over whether or not you participated in. I never even truly got to say goodbye. It wasn’t a singular moment in time, but a long process paved by experiences and living through the pain and pieces of our lives we love. “Let’s Take Time” is the realization of this space we now inhabit. The lightening of the load from our spirit to forge the new paths we were always meant to take. I can work with this new person and paint upon the canvas of my life the hardships and beauty that gave way to this new person who is worth loving in all of my complexity.

Taking not only the content of the album, how it was penned, the environment in which it was conceived, my personal interpretation of this work is that while negative situations can often lead to unexpected and unwanted outcomes, lead us drifting through life instead of taking control of it. Confronting those emotions, memories, experiences, and using them to become stronger to subvert our own direction is one of the most difficult things that anyone can do. There will be a time where we must "sail" through life, letting the stormy waters of our daily experiences do what they must, but we will find hope (or in this case "land") if we just hold out long enough we will see the rewards of our endeavors come to life within us. And when we find who we are to be, that painful transition that takes course over the formative experiences of our life, we will be able to incorporate pieces of our past self while preparing us for who we were truly meant to be.