Babe by HyunA - Swift (Satire) Discussion for AP Lang.

[yestoday]

In 2017, renown singer-songwriter and rapper Kim HyunA released her sixth extended play with the lead single titled Babe. On the surface, the song appears to be an upbeat, bubbly EDM pop song, but underneath is a magnificently constructed composition that subtly calls out the infantilization of Asians, especially women in the idol industry, and even pointing a finger towards possible normalized pedophilia and sexualization of minors.

There are a variety of ways to interpret the lyrics. In fact, at first listen, it merely appears to be another cutesy love song. I thought this for the longest time simply because I was vibing so hard and the sweet energy it gave off was extraordinary, so I never thought about looking into the translation. That is, until I told my friend it was one of my comfort songs, and she was like, “BABE BY HYUNA IS JUST DISTURBING // AFTER THE BACKSTORY // IT’S JUST SAD ;; // It’s misleadingly upbeat,” and I was like, “WHAT” (cited from: 2/20/21 iMessages between me and contact name ‘[taco emoji]’).

So this is when I properly looked it up for the first time (‘properly,’ as in, for a reason other than the sake of singing the Hangul I can barely read that fast), and it was extremely clever how she expressed it. Coated by the deceivingly sweet overlay lies a darker, more melancholy meaning. The song begins with a glittery marimba ostinato and HyunA sings the first hook “I am just twenty-six, twenty-six, twenty-six”: her actual age. This melody is repeated throughout the song, however, each time the number gets younger and younger. During the first chorus: “You make me twenty-five, twenty-five, twenty-five // You make me twenty-four, twenty-four, twenty-four // I feel like twenty-one, twenty-one, twenty-one,” and during the second chorus: “You make me nineteen, nineteen, nineteen // You make me seventeen, seventeen, seventeen // I feel like fifteen, fifteen, fifteen.” These refer to the constant infantilization she is subjected to by the audience and the press, despite her clearly adult style of music.

“I can’t tell what my age is when I’m with you” and “I never knew I would change like this // When I look at you, I unwillingly change” describe how vigorously the childlike image is being pushed onto her, even with the theme of her music being vastly different. Though no one is explicitly telling her to act more innocent and childish, it’s deeply implied through reactions and criticism (that I can’t quote here for language reasons) that it’s how they expect her to act, and she It makes you think: “Why do you treat me like a baby?” Why are people attracted to younger girls? Why does she continue even when the lyrics reach down to minor ages…

But then, almost immediately after those words, she adds on, “I must want to hear it // Tell me I’m your babe, babe” (in the case of her song, Babe in Korean is ‘베베,’ which is pronounced more similar to “baby”). She sardonically plays into the role. “Yes, I am being like a baby,” HyunA sings in the second verse; then she starts chanting “Pamper me” in a hypnotic manner, like she’s fallen into the conditioning of the public ideal and being indoctrinated into this persona. She’ll be the baby the weirdos want her to be, because, according to them, this is how she should act and what she should want, right? Hence, the very last lyrics to the song goes “You make me baby girl, baby girl, baby girl // Now I’m your baby girl, baby girl, baby girl,” her voice distorts—like what remains isn’t truly her—and the song fades out, as if she’s mocking, ‘Congratulations! You’ve now regressed me down to the baby you wanted me to be.’

Although visual satire isn’t the prompt, I think it’s worth noting that, in the music video, right before the chorus, it shows HyunA in a box that represents the public eye; she’s in bold makeup and hoop earrings, but sitting on a tricycle like a child. Innocent and juvenile is what the public wants her to act like. “Tell me I’m your babe, babe,” she sings, as he changes into the outfit of a schoolgirl, further representing the young image she has to put on in order to be liked and accepted. Another section of the music video that I believe was quite brilliant, was the moment before the bridge. This is the part where she is singing her age down below legal. When she reaches seventeen, she begins appearing uncomfortable and eventually stops dancing when she hits fifteen. Fifteen is likely not just any random number she selected; that was the age when she debuted in her first group. She stops there because that was when it all started—when she first waltzed into the celebrity world, young and naïve. HyunA in the music video walks off the set there, wearing an grim expression of despondency and uncertainty, substantially contrasting the previously colorful and exuberant scenes.

So why did she have to code this meaningful message obscurely behind these words? Other idols face the same thing, one other has also made a song on this topic before her: our nationwide-beloved genius queen IU. I thought about writing this on IU’s Twenty-Three at first, but IU was a lot more blunt with her words; she was subtly mocking but it wasn’t downright satire, at least not as much as Babe, in my opinion. IU straight out stated the facts rather than concealing it underneath a story. That didn’t sit well with the public. Because of this, IU got a load more criticism—by, let’s be honest, probably mostly incels—many calling her “a sly fox” (in a not-compliment way) or, for the lack of a better translation, “a smartass.” While IU’s 2015 hit still slapped and did spendidly well on charts and with sales, HyunA played it a little shrewder. This is Kim HyunA we’re talking about—the HyunA known for sparking controversy with her wild and rather mature concepts that don’t fit the typical image of an idol, yet still maintaining a stable and successful career. People judged her, yes, but she’s played her cards carefully: never gotten into a serious scandal, never given them a valid reason to bring her down. She was an anomaly, but she was an icon. Through her many years as an artist, she had built up a well-founded fanbase and a solid profile. People knew what to expect from her, so she wasn’t going to ruin that. Instead, she incorporated the call-out into her typical style, blending it together with the artistry of only her expertise. With that, Kim HyunA created an admirable masterpiece, that was also one of my favorite albums of 2017 (albeit, 2017 had some terrific releases, but that’s a story for another time. Shut me up before I pull out my unnecessary, literal fourteen-page essay on Run to You by SEVENTEEN, that I wrote for a band assignment when we first moved to online school—and that I know Mr. Shank did not actually read, bless him. I’m serious, by the way. I can be unhinged. Katelynn knows.)