Amateur Recommendation Hour: Story Op 1

Today’s recommendation is a work of forlorn weariness and comfortable gratitude. Distilling the essence of collective emotional temperature into a singular cohesive artistic vision. The fatigue of contemporary living seems to ache and burn at our greatest insecurities further with each day. Holding onto the people, places, and things that matter to us will always see us through the uncontrollable whims of an increasingly hostile social climate. Learning to hold space and acknowledge both the comfortable of the moment and the distrust of the future is what will ultimately see us through the ebb and flow of daily life during turbulence.

Story Op 1 is a compilation album by the late and great Korean pop auteur Kin Jong-hyun. Released on September 17, 2015 it is a compilation of songs inspired by stories sent in by listeners of his radio show “Blue Night.” The collaborative effort of this record lends itself a more authentic work of art created by both patrons and creator. Rather than being poked and prodded at by producers and executives (many of which do not care for artistic quality whatsoever) diluted with each revision, the creativity is challenged in a healthier manner between Jong-hyun and his listeners. As a result its compositions and lyricism feel more conversational and spontaneous. Allowing its strength of emotional direction to shine through over raw production quality.

Beginning with “End Of Day” sets the stage for a tired evening by the fireplace. A forceful sigh of powerlessness gives way to soft, dreary piano and vocals. Melancholic, sultry and legato, it is a window into the release of coming home from work. Frustration, relief, and dread for what is to come in the days to come. Knowing  there is only temporary escape from the bustle of industry, the unwanted stares of co-workers and the claustrophobia of the commute on a busy road or sidewalk. By contrast, U & I is a more upbeat check-in. Maintaining a low-key soundscape so as to not overwhelm. Light percussion, synths, and xylophone hits soothe the stiff spine of the inevitability of the valley about to come after these peaks. “I’m really tired, I’m really struggling. It’s even hard to breathe today. How was your day? You’re smiling, you look like you’re in a good mood. It’s nice to see. Will you tell me your stories?”

It’s in how it manages to balance it’s tones and themes that seem like they are diametrically opposed that sets Story Op 1 apart. The instrumentation is consistent but the compositional style changes between multiple different extremes. But the dynamics and tempo remain at a modest mezzopiano. Never allowing the change from one to another in successive tracks feel like tonal whiplash. The feelings synergize to reinforce not just the quality of music but the themes and messages the art is conveying. A balancing act that gives it extra variation and spice.

“Diphelyia Grayi” the highlight of the album as a whole, Returning to the pangs of pathos. Another simple piano ballad executed to agonizing excellence. The scientific latin name of the skeleton flower, indigenous to northern and central Japan, it is known for it’s petals turning transparent when wet, In this case a metaphor for internal and external struggles. When we are stripped down to our most vulnerable level, we can be seen through, transparent in the dreary dampness. But that doesn’t mean when the sun shines and we are dry that those feelings are simply not there. Rather it means we can merely hide them better as they lurk beneath that pristine, spotless white surface. Jong-hyun’s voice strains, as if he sings against his will, with the last bit of strength he can muster. “Time passes” over and over until trailing off into nothing but a rest of hurt.

With a title like “Happy Birthday” one would expect a return to better and easier. In a subversion to its deceptive title the melancholy continues. Quietly in a hazy jazz club, inspired by those who spent their birthdays alone or the birthdays of loved ones no longer in their lives. The upright string bass emphasized to enforce the dull and inconsequential feeling of existing when no one can even bother to remember or celebrate when you started. “I’m Sorry” returns to piano minimalism with a dash of violin harmony to express the story of a woman who was unable to reply to an e-mail from her ex-boyfriend.

“02:34” returns to a lackadaisical friendly setting. Jong-hyun and his friends are out drinking. Electronic beats and a comfortable keyboard accompany the sounds of a late night bar with the usual clinks and sounds of commerce. It highlights another strength of this record: the track placement is meticulous and intention. Rather than scatter them haphazardly, front load, or back load them there is an attention to when each song should play with a sense of where each would achieve the most impact upon the listener as well as to reflect our daily lives rarely being a linear line but a nonlinear jumble of both good and bad experiences.

“Maybe Tomorrow” closing off the album where we began, in front of that fireplace after a long day of work. But this time we stay optimistic. We’ve decided to take tomorrow off from work. As much as they’d like us to be, we are not indentured servants. Feeling better at our own pace is more important than whatever role we play in the heartless machine. “We can’t have fun every day as we live. We won’t be tearing up for a lifetime either. It’s okay. Really, right? It’s okay. It’s fine to put aside everything and rest for just a day.”

My personal interpretations of this work stem more from how it was penned rather than what the songs are necessarily about, although there is mutual intelligibility for both. I believe this album is about the connective and healing power of music as an art form. Hearing emotions and thoughts communicated through song has a way of reaching us when we feel unreachable by any other means. It has a unique ability to connect us to people and their feelings when we may know nothing else about them. The album artwork even conveys this idea of this connectivity we feel with sketched hands, each unknown to the other reaching out for a faint touch of empathy through each others experiences, or in this case, creations. The mundanity of life goes on for only how long we allow it to continue uninterrupted. We are allowed to feel joy through art or any other means.