< Verse 10. 888 X 888 >
Finally, Cha In-hyun left Gwangju. He left L&S.
Cha In-hyun signed a contract with Ohkyung Group’s entertainment company, one of Korea’s leading conglomerates. He was now affiliated with Ohkyung ENT, not the band L&S.
It was a well-known fact that Sang-hyun and Cha In-hyun had been avoiding each other since the Jeonju World DJ Festival. The relationship between L&S and the 888 Crew was still good, but Cha In-hyun was never where Sang-hyun was, and Sang-hyun was never where Cha In-hyun was.
Bang Min-shik and Yong-joon, members of L&S, asked why several times, but Cha In-hyun and Lee Sang-hyun had no choice but to remain silent.
Cha In-hyun kept his mouth shut because he wasn’t proud, and Sang-hyun kept his mouth shut because he had no way to prove who the song belonged to.
Also, Sang-hyun was waiting for the ‘right time’.
“In-hyun, congratulations.”
The L&S members sincerely wished Cha In-hyun success. This was especially true because most of them knew about Cha In-hyun’s painful family history.
A farewell party began with everyone holding onto their regrets and disappointments. Not only L&S members, but also other band members from Gwangju, the president of Sejong Instrument Store, and even 888 Crew members came to the farewell party.
Sang-hyun was not among them.
Of course, Sang-hyun couldn’t congratulate Cha In-hyun. Of course, he didn’t want him to continue to be poor, struggling, and suffering. He didn’t want his family to always be unhappy either. But the method was wrong.
Sang-hyun thought that if Cha In-hyun had continued to make music fairly, he would have seen the light someday.
‘It’s the path you chose.’
Sang-hyun couldn’t help but hate Cha In-hyun as much as he felt guilty himself, and it was hard to get rid of.
It took time for it to disappear.
Time for Cha In-hyun to try to fix the problem. Or the time to push his greed to the end.
Waiting for that time was the last expectation, or even greater hatred.
Contrary to the 888 Crew, which was planning various events and enjoying great success, L&S’s atmosphere was stagnant after sending Cha In-hyun away.
Sang-hyun felt sorry for them, but there was nothing he could do. The only option was to find a new vocalist, even if it took time. It was decided that Sang-hyun, a guest rapper, would join L&S for the already scheduled events.
However, a few days later, the 888 Crew members had to attend the L&S vocalist welcome party. The vocalist had already been decided.
The 888 Crew members teased and joked with the new vocalist at the welcoming ceremony.
“Hey, are you raising your eyes at your senior right now? What are you doing? Are all vocalists like this these days?”
“Ahem… we couldn’t even imagine such a thing back in our day…”
“Anyway, these days vocalists are the problem.”
“Do you guys really want to die?”
Everyone pretended not to hear Miju’s threat. That’s right. Miju, who had been a guest keyboardist, had joined L&S as the new vocalist.
From the beginning, Miju was a good singer. In fact, when she was in a band in Hongdae [a district in Seoul known for its indie music scene], she was active as a two-vocal system, going beyond just a sub-vocalist. She often served as a backup vocalist in L&S as well.
The Bungeoppang [fish-shaped pastry filled with sweet red bean paste] that L&S sang at the Jeonju World DJ Festival was originally Miju’s song. Miju wrote the lyrics, arranged, and created the melody for the song composed by Yong-joon and Cha In-hyun.
However, Miju herself didn’t have much desire to be a vocalist, but she was the first to express her intention to join L&S as a vocalist. Yong-joon and Bang Min-shik, who had been hoping for Miju, welcomed her with open arms. Miju said that she couldn’t tolerate a strange vocalist joining her beloved L&S.
‘She has a sense of loyalty.’
Sang-hyun smiled contentedly at the welcoming ceremony.
Miju is a good person, except that she can be a little rough with her hands and sometimes says things without thinking. According to Jun-hyung, who went to Cha In-hyun’s farewell party, Miju even yelled at Cha In-hyun.
‘Oppa [term used by females to address older brothers or male friends], do you like money that much? Do you not care what happens to L&S? Anyway, that song is Oppa’s song, right? Then you can go later, right? Is this what you want to do when you’re just about to do well after the World DJ Festival?’
Cha In-hyun, embarrassed, couldn’t say anything, and the 888 Crew members who were trying to stop Miju were secretly relieved.
Sang-hyun had a great time at Miju’s welcoming ceremony. He was convinced that L&S would do better in the future. A rare keyboardist vocalist, and Miju is also pretty.
In ten years, 70% of underground concert halls will be female audiences, but since there are still far more male audiences now, it couldn’t hurt.
Having relieved his burden, Sang-hyun began to work in earnest to develop the 888 Crew.
Because the Club Hommie performance was fast approaching, as soon as the Jeonju World Wide Indie Music Festival ended.
***
August 2005.
The performance that hip-hop fans had been waiting for was finally counting down.
It was Vega, the leader of Stars Records, who had overcome numerous obstacles to make the underground hip-hop party at Club Hommie a reality.
Since the last performance of Club Masterplan (MP) in December 2001, there had been no proper underground joint performances in the hip-hop scene. At best, there were small-scale crew performances or street performances.
Because of this, countless hip-hop fans were paying attention to the Club Hommie performance.
-I heard that if this performance goes well, they might perform every two months?
-No. Vega once said that he signed a contract with the condition that he would perform unconditionally for a year.
-There’s no such thing as unconditional in business? If the performance is terrible and there aren’t many people, it will be canceled.
-First of all, we have to sell out this month’s performance. That’s the only way to keep it going.
-Is there anyone going from Ulsan? Please send me a message if you are.
Korean underground hip-hop fans, who have a strong sense of community unique to mania culture, began to reserve tickets for Club Hommie’s performance as part of their fandom.
At the same time, posts looking for people to go to the performance together from Busan or Daegu were also frequently posted.
HiphopLE quickly created a temporary ‘Carpool Bulletin Board’.
Around that time, a series of videos called ‘Hommie Vol.1’ began to be posted on hip-hop communities.
‘Hommie Vol.1′ was a video taken by the lineup of the performance under the leadership of Bae Sang-wook. This video, which revealed unreleased verses or parts of performance songs live, attracted the attention of many hip-hop fans. It also caused a corresponding controversy.
-Bulls sounds better in recordings than live. A typical studio MC.
-Crazy. If that’s bullshit, it’s a human cultural asset. Bulls’ pronunciation is reduced because of his unique choice of muffled beats, but he’s almost the best in Korea when it comes to tamping [a rapping technique].
-I liked Youngill’s video much better than Bulls’ video?
-Youngill is the worst of the lineup? What did you listen to? And what did you give birth to?
-What’s so funny about Korea is that rappers respect each other, but fans criticize each other.
-Do you think it’s not like that in the United States? And Bulls and Youngill don’t have a good relationship? Bulls took the beat maker from Youngill’s team, so Youngill cursed at him at a performance.
-They already made up. Are you from the Joseon Dynasty [historical Korean kingdom]?
-But who is the hidden guest? Why haven’t they revealed it when there are less than two weeks left until the performance?
-You idiot, the hidden guest is revealed at the performance, so that’s why they’re called hidden guests.
-The hidden guest is Eminem.
-Bullshit lol
The Hommie Vol.1 video consisted of a total of 5 videos and was being released every other day starting August 10th.
Some rappers rapped with only the microphone barely visible in a dark room, while others rapped comfortably sitting in their studios. Some people rapped while walking around Hongdae Playground, the mecca of indie culture, and others made video clips of street performance live.
However, one thing was clear: the Hommie Vol.1 clip received a great deal of attention from hip-hop listeners.
Thanks to this, the number of views for each video was close to 20,000.
The community was arguing over who was better or worse with the five videos.
Another video was uploaded there on August 22, five days before the performance.
– Hommie Vol.1 Hidden Guest.
The video began at an outdoor performance hall with a huge crowd. At least two thousand people seemed to be holding their hands up in the air.
People clapping, people shouting, couples holding hands, people sitting on the lawn eating lunch boxes…
The screen showed people enjoying the performance in various ways. A banner that read ‘Jeonju World Wide Indie Music Festival’ was also visible in the fleeting screen.
Guitar sounds, drum sounds, rap sounds.
People cheered. At the same time, the screen darkened and the cheers gradually subsided, and the scene changed.
Now the video was showing a studio.
A beat was playing on the studio’s speakers.
A beat that was significantly slower than the boom-bap beats of Korea in 2005, which usually maintained a level of 90 BPM [beats per minute]. However, the hi-hats finely divided the beat, so it didn’t sound boring at all.
The people gathered in the studio were talking loudly against the backdrop of the beat.
At that moment, the sound of a piano crashing down was heard between the beats,
-Doo doo doo!
The beat got incredibly loud.
At the same time, a chorus began to be heard from afar.
The muted chorus grew louder and louder like the roar of a motorcycle passing by, and then hit the ears in an instant.
We, Eight that Eight that Eight Crew!
We, Eight that Eight that Eight Crew!
We, Eight that Eight that Eight Crew!
We, Eight that Eight that Eight Crew!
A camera angle that zooms out.
The camera now showed two posters hanging on the studio wall.
One is a poster for Club Hommie’s performance.
The other poster had the white letters ‘888 X 888’ on a black background.
And the video ended.
A short 40-second video.
However, the ripple effect that the video brought was greater than expected.
After it was revealed that the hidden guest was the 888 Crew, many people began to look forward to the Fuck tha Show biz live performance.
The number of plays for Fuck tha Show biz, which had stopped at around 200,000, soared back to 250,000 in a few days. Considering the number of underground hip-hop fans, this meant that almost all underground hip-hop fans had listened to Fuck tha Show biz.
After the 888 Crew’s video was linked, another debate broke out in the community. It was about the views on the beat and chorus that appeared in the video.
Some criticized it as a beat that was only half-made, while others praised it as a completely new feeling beat. Conflicting opinions were applied equally to the chorus ‘We, Eight that Eight that Eight Crew’. Opinions were divided equally between those who thought it was fresh and those who thought it was made in a hurry.
Since the choruses of Korean hip-hop in 2005, which mainly consisted of boom-bap, usually had complex narrative structures, the controversy became even more widespread.
But what was clear was that many people were looking forward to the 888 Crew’s performance.
< Verse 10. 888 X 888 > End
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