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Before YouTube, it was difficult for everyday computer users to upload and share videos online with a global audience. It was nearly impossible.
That’s why YouTube attracted attention from numerous IT companies from its inception, leading to its acquisition by Google approximately a year after its launch.
The first Korean YouTube star to emerge from this global platform was Jung Hyun-in, who performed Canon in D on the electric guitar. In 2006, a user with the nickname ‘funtwo’ uploaded Jung Hyun-in’s performance, which garnered over 90 million views.
The New York Times lauded Jung Hyun-in’s performance, dubbing him the ‘Web Guitar Wizard,’ a title that generated considerable buzz in Korea.
However, before Jung Hyun-in’s rise to YouTube stardom, in late 2005, a group called 888 Crew began gaining recognition on YouTube due to a somewhat bizarre incident.
It began when a hip-hop artist residing in LA stumbled upon a YouTube channel named ‘Korea Hiphop’.
A rapper from LA, known as Callus, felt deeply offended after watching the music video for a song titled ‘Eight, Eight, Eight’ on the Korea Hiphop YouTube channel.
He believed the song had plagiarized the work of the hottest LA DJ at the time.
-Who is the trash who uploaded this song? This is a plagiarized song. It’s practically a carbon copy of Standard’s song, with minor tweaks to the BPM [beats per minute] and instrumentation.
Callus posted the comment and quickly forgot about it, but it began to circulate.
-Isn’t this the original version of Standard’s song? I’m not entirely sure because the verse order, RPM [revolutions per minute], BPM, and beat are different, but the two songs sound very similar. Besides, Standard’s song is titled Eight, Eight, Eight LA Remix.
-Don’t be ridiculous. Standard is huge in the LA scene. Why would he steal a song from some ‘Ching Chong’ [derogatory term for Chinese] group? Plus, Standard’s song with a similar beat is in English.
-What you’re referring to is ‘Two, One, Three (LA area code 213),’ which Standard recently released. ‘Two, One, Three’ is simply a version of ‘Eight, Eight, Eight Remix’ featuring LA rappers. There’s an original song that’s separate.
-I have no idea what you guys are talking about. Who is Standard? Is he an LA rapper? Or is he Korean?
-I recall hearing in an interview that Standard had been collaborating with a Korean rapper for quite some time. Could it be the same person?
-More importantly, why are Koreans making black music? Shouldn’t Asians be focusing on Yellow Music?
-Black people don’t mind when white people or Asians play jazz, but they seem to have strict rules about race only in rap. Jazz is also black music.
-But is this group Korean? Aren’t they Japanese? I’ve heard the Japanese hip-hop scene is quite large.
-Look at the channel name: Korea Hiphop. But the song is good. It’s surprising to find good rappers in Korea.
-Regardless, the music is good and high quality. Some of the rappers’ verses sound a bit forced, but that’s common even with American rappers… Especially the rapper 56, I think he’s better than many mainstream American rappers.
-Are the mainstream rappers you’re thinking of washed-up artists like Beenzino or Vanilla Ice?
-That’s why hip-hop struggles to be taken seriously as art. People just care if the song is good, regardless of plagiarism or sample clearance.
-So, is this song plagiarized or not? And where can I listen to Standard’s song?
-But what does 56 mean? Is he implying he has flat feet? (Like the rock band Flatfoot 56)
-So, is this song plagiarism? Someone, please give me a definitive answer.
While the members of 888 Crew were busy preparing for the Hip Hop the Vibe and Homi performances, some keen reporters picked up on the YouTube comments.
“Wow, is this a major scandal? Is it plagiarism?”
The official bootleg clearly stated ‘Eight, Eight, Eight Los Angeles Remix (Prod. DJ. Standard)’.
However, reporters who hadn’t purchased the album began writing speculative articles, loosely comparing Standard’s ‘Two, One, Three’ with ‘Eight, Eight, Eight,’ which they had heard on the broadcast.
The article was published just days before the final round of Hip Hop the Vibe.
The 888 Crew members, including Sang-hyun, initially believed that the absurdity of the article would lead to its self-correction. They couldn’t fathom why such an article was written when the ‘Prod’ [produced by] mark was clearly visible on the bootleg.
Initially, netizens criticized the reporter, as expected.
-Seriously, what kind of reporter is this? If you’re going to write about a plagiarism controversy, shouldn’t you at least buy and listen to the album? I bought three copies; want to buy one from me? Oh, but the first edition is not for sale.
-It seems the reporter couldn’t buy it because it’s out of print.
-Are official bootlegs always out of print? What happened to the initial stock?
-Sold out, lol.
-The third run sold out… 888 Crew messed up. Why release such a limited quantity instead of a large run?
-There was an announcement that only 3000 copies were produced due to issues with the album production outsourcing company.
-So, all 3000 copies sold out in the meantime?
However, after a while, a strange controversy began to emerge.
-But honestly, how famous is DJ Standard that he would produce a group like 888 Crew, which hasn’t even been around for a year?
-That’s right. Standard is practically a top producer in the US. Doesn’t it seem odd?
-Isn’t the ‘Prod’ mark just a formality? That’s why they haven’t registered the sound recording. Think about it, why wouldn’t 888 Crew register the sound recording? They must be hiding something.
-That makes sense when you listen to it.
Sang-hyun was speechless as he watched public opinion shift.
‘I’m experiencing all sorts of things now that I’ve gained a little fame.’
Standard wasn’t a household name yet; he was still a rising talent in the United States.
He was active in the underground scene, particularly in LA, where connections to the mainstream were strong, resulting in relatively high album sales. His fame stemmed from officially collaborating with major LA rappers.
In reality, this public perception highlighted the significant gap between the Korean and American music industries in 2005.
Collaborations between Korean and American musicians didn’t become common until the late 2010s, when the gap between the two markets narrowed.
It was unimaginable at the time for Dynamic Duo to work with DJ Premier, Tablo to collaborate with Joey Bada$$, or Brave Brothers to team up with YG [Yang Hyun-suk, founder of YG Entertainment].
As the controversy intensified, Sang-hyun had to contact Standard, who was extremely busy. After hearing the whole story, Standard agreed to an interview.
-888 Crew! A special relationship with LA’s best DJ, Standard!
-Korea’s first trap music, Eight, Eight, Eight! Making waves in LA!
-888 Crew, ranked number one for two weeks in NPQ, LA’s leading music magazine.
Sang-hyun seriously contemplated the life of a ‘celebrity,’ whose every move and past action was scrutinized, as he experienced this absurd situation.
In fact, if KMNet [Korean Music Network], which had to protect 888 Crew’s image, hadn’t intervened, a major correction report wouldn’t have been released. Instead, a few disclaimer articles would have been published, and the public, unaware of them, would have continued to suspect plagiarism.
It was something that would eventually come to light over time.
‘That’s why the media is so powerful, and that’s why they emphasize the importance of agencies.’
The brief incident ultimately proved beneficial for 888 Crew.
Their reputation evolved from ‘super rookies, rappers on TV, a good team’ to ‘a team collaborating with famous foreign producers’ almost overnight.
In an interview with NPQ, Standard praised Sang-hyun and dismissed the plagiarism allegations.
Regarding the sophisticated trap beat that predated the Eight, Eight, Eight era, he revealed, ‘I simply dug up sample sources to create the sound that Riga explained.’
This endorsement also boosted their presence on YouTube.
YouTube users in LA who were fans of Standard, and YouTube users interested in hip-hop, began subscribing to the ‘Korea Hiphop’ channel.
-Southern musicians must be a little jealous. The evolution of trap music is happening in KR [Korea], not AT [Atlanta].
-But anyway, Standard mixed trap with dubstep. Standard seems to underestimate himself.
-His nickname in LA is DJ. Nerd. Don’t nerds usually lack confidence?
-By the way, how old is the rapper 56? Asians always look so young. Especially Japanese and Koreans. Is 56 around 21 years old?
-He’s 17 years old after his birthday. He’s 18 years old in Korean age [East Asian age reckoning].
-Damn it. A rare Asian with an old face.
-56 is only 17 years old? He seems much more talented than American rappers of a similar age.
-If you explore the Korea Hiphop channel further, you’ll find many more interesting videos. The rap referencing Canibus is truly amazing.
-Canibus? That washed-up has-been who challenged Eminem? Ah, Eminem is also m&m chocolate (a word mocking fat Eminem) now.
-So, what’s the title?
-Crouching Writer. It seems to be a live video clip, but the actual sound is great. I wish someone would add subtitles.
The interest, which began in a peculiar way, didn’t fade quickly. Video clips like Eight, Eight, Eight, Crouching Writer, and Gwangju Up began to accumulate over 500,000 views.
The number of views increased even further after a Korean living in LA translated and added the lyrics.
And among those 500,000 people, there was one who was like the North Star of American hip-hop.
It was KRS-One.
An iconic figure who began his career in 1987, during the golden age of old school hip-hop, and has been respected by countless rappers for nearly 20 years.
A Real MC who emphasizes the importance of the message with his own firm musical philosophy and is also known as ‘Teacher’.
KRS-One also lectures on hip-hop at prestigious private universities such as Harvard and NYU (New York University).
KRS-One happened to hear Eight, Eight, Eight by chance. The unfamiliar language of the song coming from the woofer in the square caught his attention.
“Hey, what is this song? What country is it from?”
“It’s Korean.”
“Korea? South? North?”
KRS-One learned about the song from his students and accessed YouTube at a hotel in New York a few days later after a performance.
KRS-One listened to the rap carefully and read the interpretations in the comments. It was the first time he had encountered Korean rap, and surprisingly, he sensed great depth. It wasn’t Wangster rap [a derogatory term for Asian rappers who imitate African-American culture] that clumsily imitated black people.
According to the translations, Crouching Writer was a wordplay-oriented song filled with homonyms, and Eight, Eight, Eight was trap music that didn’t glorify drugs. In particular, the sound was very fresh.
Gwangju UP felt like an old school party tune from the 80s.
This Korean’s rap had a blend of the 80s, 90s, and 2000s. Furthermore, the unique vibe of hip-hop that transcended linguistic barriers was properly formed.
While there were some minor shortcomings, he could immediately sense their great potential.
‘Five Six…’
He also searched for and listened to the songs of DJ Standard, who was said to be a musician from LA. Standard seemed to be a DJ who meticulously studied sound. While some tracks were overly artificial, KRS-One was convinced that Standard would become a Billboard DJ within five years.
KRS-One called his manager.
“Do you know anyone named Standard among the LA DJs? I want to meet him. Oh, and ask Standard if the rapper 56 is in LA or Korea.”
KRS-One hung up the phone and listened to the songs on the Korea Hiphop channel again. As the linguistic unfamiliarity faded, he gained a better understanding.
The wind of change, which began with a trivial matter, seemed to be blowing fiercely, poised to elevate 888 Crew to a higher level. Whether they could ride that wind depended entirely on the abilities of 888 Crew.
At the time when KRS-One was listening to 888 Crew’s songs at the hotel, the 888 Crew members were beginning the final filming of Hip Hop the Vibe.
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