Musings on TWICE’s impact and success
Behold, the power of nine!
Last month, I spoke with a long-time mutual on the growth of K-Pop, and its role in the Asianization of global popular culture. It was refreshing to trace various points of reference to the formation, sound, and success of multiple idol groups who are largely considered as pillars of the most empirically ultramodern entertainment industry in the world — S.E.S., 2NE1, and Girls’ Generation (SNSD), to name a few.
Some groups serve as entire parts of K-Pop’s story, and TWICE is very much one of them, considering the impact they continue to leave onto the industry and culture at large. Here are five things that I took away from this conversation:
1. TWICE has to be one of the greatest geopolitical achievements in pop music.
The fact that they may reach Super Junior levels of longevity gives me lots of hope for future girl groups. And regardless of what SuJu has perpetuated within their nearly 20-year career, TWICE having the potential to last well over a decade is incredible. They’ll be the only consistently active South Korean girl group without a lineup change (from debut) alongside Brown Eyed Girls to achieve that.
In recent years, TWICE has shown a girl group (which typically has strong GP support, but weak fandom support) can be like a boy group (which typically has weak GP support, but strong fandom support). While TWICE doesn’t chart as well anymore, they have strong album and concert ticket sales with an ever-expanding international fanbase to boot. Because of this, they can sell out arenas and stadiums around the world with ease.
Moreover, to find acceptance, success and longevity in SK and Japan is a feat that so few acts have achieved. The fact that TWICE have managed to continually blaze the same trail as BoA is a testament to her legacy too, as they join a special set of groups who have effortlessly traversed the spheres of K-Pop and J-Pop on such a grand scale. These include the likes of TVXQ, BIGBANG, KARA, and SNSD, whose image and sound have permanently cemented them within the country’s popular culture to this day.
TWICE have authored their imprint on the Japanese general public through a level of success previously unseen by their predecessors. As the first South Korean girl group with a Japanese trio, the collective’s degree of closeness with the Japanese GP is the most direct that it has ever been. Not only do TWICE boast a J-Line hailing from a region that has historically housed the largest Korean community in Japan, but their success within the Japanese market (as members of TWICE and the respective sub-unit MISAMO) continues to expand upon the possibility of Japanese idols achieving both individual and collective success in their home countries without sacrificing qualities and sensibilities that have made them distinctively appeal to both national markets.
For these reasons, MISAMO’s debut, “Do not touch”, is also nothing short of exemplary — specifically for artfully representing values of consent that continue to raise importance for women in contemporary Japanese society.
Considering the near-impossibility of a K-Pop group achieving the same level of permanence in Japan’s domestic consciousness as Morning Musume and AKB48, TWICE has capitalized upon a central trait that once made Japanese idol groups highly favored amongst parts of the general public. What TWICE have delivered is a form of star quality that not only refamiliarizes characteristically Korean technicality in performance and precision, but transcends it altogether.
Much like KARA before them, TWICE have grown to uphold an image of ideal femininity that complements and contrasts archetypes of youthfulness that define traditional Japanese idol groups. This also previously made the likes of KARA and SNSD appeal to Japan’s demographic of young women — not least because all three groups have been heavily marketed to their sensibilities. More importantly, TWICE’s sound has retained a level of energy and fun that seamlessly translates itself to preferences most distinct to a Japanese market that had been inundated by its own idol industry for over three decades.
With the obvious reality of xenophobia in Japan, TWICE continue to be a revelation, especially because xenophobia will always have pertinence in Japan, and yet their presence as a multinational group affirms and counters all notions of that. At this point, TWICE are more than just South Korea’s representative girl group, but to hold said title and outgrow it simultaneously is incredibly special. With the heights they’ve reached, they’re the universe’s K-Pop group. It feels a little weird to say, but they’re really the chosen idols in that sense.
2. When it comes to a group as important as TWICE, context has to be everything, although their story and significance is still continuously evolving in every aspect of what K-Pop is.
There was only really one group that was going to fully carry the torch of Girls’ Generation. I’m glad it’s TWICE, especially because their legacy addresses the more complex issues with Asian society that SNSD’s fame and eventual legacy built the foundation for.
While there isn’t much emphasis on TWICE being South Korea’s Representative Girl Group within international spheres of K-Pop fandoms, the notion of the word “representative” is often left out of the conversation, and often in favor of making TWICE the community’s punching bag against their predecessor (SNSD).
It is important, nonetheless, to address why TWICE was handed said title by the South Korean press. This title is given by consensus of the South Korean press (which is to some extent — especially with TV — an extension of the Korean government) to the group that represents the most ideal version of a young Korean woman, and how the South Korean press & government view Korean feminine ideals.
Even in the eyes of the national state, TWICE are seen as hardworking, funny, intelligent, beautiful, and optimistic. They are also influential and wildly successful while somehow still being seen as respectful and humble.
With this in mind, it is amazing that a multinational girl group is widely considered The Nation’s Representative Girl Group. That’s a testament to TWICE’s candid authenticity as entertainers, and since being awarded the title, no other girl group has represented the South Korean ideal young woman more so than TWICE. Even then, TWICE themselves would happily pass the mantle along, having shown nothing but grace and support to younger idols of all genders.
The fact that TWICE is still seen as representative is truly special. Any group can achieve popularity and capture the temporary zeitgeist, but few will be seen as aspirational for people’s children to grow up to be like, or for their children to marry. This aspirational factor, and not just popularity, is why being The Nation’s Representative Girl Group means so much.
Because of how wide-reaching TWICE’s impact and presence has become outside of South Korea itself, their representative title is also the first whose aspirational factor fully extends to one of universality, most notably in a musical landscape where fewer acts are conceding to the Anglosphere to achieve success. The fact that the group’s foreign line (Mina, Sana, Momo, Tzuyu) is also considered as representative of Korean feminine ideals themselves is a huge testament to that.
Alongside SNSD (which TWICE’s repertoire is only eclipsed by), TWICE are still very much the representative girl group of South Korea, but they’re also so much more than that now, and will continue to be even years after that title no longer belongs to them. As years pass, it’s becoming more evident that TWICE were not solely chosen by the South Korean press to represent aspirational femininity, because every fan (however they choose to identify) they’ve gained outside of South Korea and Asia’s borders has chosen TWICE as representative of their own definition of aspiration that is unique to them.
3. TWICE’s identity is so clearly influenced and informed by multiple things.
These include:
- The musical styles and concepts often associated with 2nd Generation groups that debuted in the thick of or late into 2nd Gen, and mostly those not in the big 3 (ie: 4Minute, Apink, After School)
- The multinational lineup and global aims of their company’s predecessors (2PM and Wonder Girls)
- Retaining JYP’s signature retro sound and consistently incorporating it into their discography, which further solidifies them as one of the classic JYP acts alongside god, Wonder Girls, 2PM, and Miss A — and one of the modern JYP groups alongside ITZY and NMIXX — or even a bridge between both periods in the company’s history.
You could even say that musically, TWICE are a synthesis of all the classic JYP groups before them. Not only has their sound been a continuation of the Wonder Girls’ retro stylings and hook songs (the latter being dialed to eleven with songs like “Signal” and “Tuk Tok”), but equal parts 2PM’s hitmaking blueprint of Black American and Latino dance music.
Simply put, Again and Again’s iteration of 80s freestyle is to TT’s candy-coated ode to Atlanta bass.
The only difference to TWICE’s success in comparison to their senior groups is that a substantial amount of it has played out in relation to the immensely complicated geopolitical — and increasingly digital — landscape of modern-day East Asia. Most of all, they have led the charge for future JYP groups like ITZY through unapologetically embracing modernity during the onset of a sea change in K-Pop that saw a majority of its 2nd Generation on its last legs.
Many notable acts of this period hardly had individual social media platforms to promote themselves outside of their company’s official YouTube channel, thus becoming disadvantaged in their adjustment to the expanse of social networking technologies. Alongside groups like Seventeen and BTS, TWICE were the first to fully take advantage of platforms like VLIVE in actively documenting their ventures in the entertainment industry while interacting with fans on a near-daily basis.
With this in mind, it’s still quite astounding to remember that TWICE are the first multinational girl group to experience the same level of success and cultural saturation as SNSD. But none of this would have been made possible without JYP’s thorough consideration of the time and place in which they emerged.
4. The amount of maturity in TWICE’s formation and development was spellbinding.
From the Sewol Ferry incident and the Liancourt Rocks dispute dismantling the supposed formations of two JYP girl groups, to the Hallyu wave’s waning interest in mid-2010s Japan (partially caused by the debuting of too many idol groups), there was a full understanding of the history and the context that TWICE were created in.
Despite much of what occurred in 2014 — a year widely considered as one of the most tragic in the Korean idol industry — this unanimous end to K-Pop’s 2nd Generation would end up playing in JYP’s favor. Most of all, it paved the way for the company to reinsert themselves into K-Pop’s Big 3 alongside a YG and SM Entertainment whose foundational acts were crumbling from within.
2015 couldn’t have been a better time for JYP to unleash a cultural behemoth upon an industry rife with fresh wounds from its previous year of turmoil. At the time, it hadn’t even been a full year since K-Pop’s prime example of culture technology had disarmed an entire community and left its throne vacant, all while entering a future already shrouded in mystery and confusion. Though as history would soon prove, TWICE would fill those shoes in record time — and to this very day.
A survival show as grueling as SIXTEEN shouldn’t have been so integral to TWICE’s formation, but there’s no doubt that in these specific circumstances, JYPE clearly knew what they were doing . It served as a full-circle moment for a company that historically propelled Thai idols into stardom, while simultaneously pushing its girl groups into the depths of both the South Korean and US market with little to no guidance.
TWICE’s breakthrough also arrived when South Korea’s idol industry threatened to be the mirror image of its Japanese counterpart. It saw a palpable struggle to adapt to an emergent social media landscape whose pertinence within youth culture played a significant role in dictating changing sensibilities and trends, as well as a streaming culture that bolstered international fandoms much more rapidly than their nascent counterparts at the turn of the decade.
From the official announcement of their fandom name to their aptly named full-length debut (and current Instagram handle) twicetagram, TWICE’s music and career has taken great advantage of the group’s upbringing being embedded within a newly sporadic form of social media. As a result, their maturation remains a difficult feat to have overcome, not least when much of their success can be partially attributed to openly documenting a spectrum of emotions in online spaces — and even brutally so.
This makes the premise of “LIKEY” much more poignant in retrospect, not least when reflecting on the group’s resilience against an ever-changing South Korean GP and several organized smear campaigns that occurred at the height of the group’s fame. For one of the group’s biggest hits to be this (ironically) candid about the truth beneath a level of perfection that all idols have been made to strive for cements the song within the canon of K-Pop’s modern masterpieces.
Moreover, LIKEY’s respective point choreography resembling parts of an Instagram layout and its music video’s interchanging filters are equal parts quintessential understandings of the emotional and psychological effects brought about by social media’s causality in the evolution of conditional pressures within K-Pop’s 3rd Generation, as well as the industry’s perpetuation of Korean beauty standards as a whole.
Both Japan and South Korea’s audiences being so receptive to TWICE is an achievement in itself, and one whose scale might remain forever untouched. It also speaks volumes to a historically strained relationship between the two countries, and how this rift has been partially mended through the foothold that TWICE would take in these respective markets.
That being said,
5. There’s so much genius behind the synthesis of Japanese and Korean idol music in the creation of the J-Line alone.
TWICE remains JYP’s most notable success in thoroughly taking advantage of the Japanese market. This was specifically achieved through its direct incorporation of a Japanese line comprised of three individuals who were part of an era of youth culture that fully embraced the second Hallyu wave in Japan, which saw the likes of KARA, SNSD, and 2PM become household names.
Nonetheless, inevitable bad-faith criticisms of the J-Line have taken almost little to no consideration for Japan’s own popular music and culture playing an equally important role in the development of TWICE’s sound. This has also resulted in a lack of understanding of the cultural context of why MISAMO were chosen to debut in TWICE, and how their voices have been used throughout the group’s storied career.
Above all things, the J-Line was created to familiarize Japanese audiences, but what’s more fascinating is how each member of the J-Line carries something — vocally, personality-wise, and visually — representative of a certain period of Japanese pop and idol music.
Sana
As one of the best utilized voices in TWICE, Sana has that Avex tone down to a T . Unfortunately, this also leads to many non-Japanese listeners pigeonholing all Japanese pop vocalists as nasal.
Regardless of this, it makes her voice even more unique in K-Pop, because it sounds like throwing hitomi (Hitomi Furuya), and Kaori Mochida (Every Little Thing) into a blender. It’s a vocal tone that is not only part and parcel of early Heisei synthpop, but one whose inflection is characteristically and musically emblematic of Japanese popular culture.
Sana’s voice could have easily remained unfamiliar to a South Korean public that is heavily acclimated to their idols singing from the diaphragm. But the decision of producers to cement her presence at the heart of TWICE’s hits has resulted in said voice becoming one of the most recognized and unique in K-Pop — killing part after killing part after killing part.
It also helps that Sana herself has a naturally bubbly and affectionate personality that shines through on and off-stage. To this day, it’s incredible that such a voice effortlessly won over Korean audiences the way that it did. No wonder it made all the difference.
Momo
Momo’s dancing is such a clear-cut example of EXILE’s influence on choreography being carried into the Korean idol industry. Beforehand, it was already spreading into their girl groups (E-girls and Happiness respectively), who were equally known to switch fluidly between sharp and slick movements that hardly sacrificed a powerful stage presence to achieve versatility.
It’s no surprise either that Momo is someone who was evidently raised on naughties Amuro Namie, all while having a similar vocal tone to 2000s Gwen Stefani and a hint of Koda Kumi. If it helps, both the latter and Momo happen to be from the same prefecture of Japan’s Kansai region.
Much like Sana, Momo’s voice could have easily alienated audiences across the pond. Polarizing as it remains for some, Momo’s voice has a similar function to Sana’s, in that it injects a form of energy that immediately stands out in TWICE’s sonic palette. Even if (admittedly) few songs within K-Pop have been written to fully showcase the uniqueness of Momo’s voice, both Momo and Sana’s voices serve as the bursts of color that makes TWICE’s songs as bright and sickly sweet as they are.
It’s also easy to forget this in the current climate of certain K-Pop fandoms that tend to heavily analyze, rank, and police vocals as part of a collective illusion that some fans want to create, specifically as a means of self-importance in order to feign perfection. Not only does this form of graded bloodsport strongly disregard the artistry and nuance that K-Pop has to offer, but it has threatened to bury the quality of various acts whose music hardly requires them be collectively virtuosic at soft palate gymnastics.
Mina
Mina is the most classic example of the Japanese idol in a Korean girl group. JYPE clearly picked someone whose light timbre is so clearly reminiscent of how late 80s soloists like Seiko Matsuda bled into actor-singers like Takako Matsu.
However understated Mina may appear, the use of her voice has only become more skilled with time. Its soft presence harkens to turn-of-the-century singer-songwriters such as Tomoyo Harada and early Utada Hikaru, whose voices carried a sincerity to their softness that brought solace to a demographic of listeners conflicted with their identity amidst economic stagnation.
It comes as no surprise that this same sincerity has seen Mina cross many of TWICE’s bridges with ease. There is just as much thought put into each phrase that Mina sings, which not only allows her voice to stand out, but completely resonate with the bittersweet and often melancholic lyrics that have been written into the fabric of TWICE’s earliest hits.
Throughout TWICE’s discography, Mina has embodied the calm before the final chorus storms in. Look no further than the bridge of “LOVE FOOLISH” from 2019’s Feel Special, which finds her voice lilting towards the intoxicating prospect of remaining with a manipulative person. It presents the idea that beauty can be found in such danger, and yet it finds one’s ears hanging onto a silk thread before it is cut off to send the listener plummeting back into the song’s jagged labyrinth of gritty synths.
Even against the backdrop of darker production, Mina’s voice remains a gentle cushion that gradually eases listeners into the harsh, surging refrains that lie ahead. Contemplate long enough on the balance that an elegant and airy vocal color also adds to TWICE’s songs, and you’d be hard pressed not to recall a role that feels — at times — oddly reminiscent of Jessica Jung during her time with SNSD.
There’s no doubt either that JYPE were clearly looking for someone whose appearances and demeanor evoked the earnesty, homeliness, and familiarity of Utada, Ryoko Hirosue, and Akina Nakamori. Mina not only fulfills this in ways more than one, but naturally embodies the same qualities that have made the likes of Hirosue and Nakamori cherished by the Japanese public.
So much about MISAMO’s experiences point to them being one of the many Japanese youths enamored by the second wave of Hallyu — and yet in every sense of it, Mina still retains the classic image of a Japanese idol, both as a Japanese idol in a South Korean girl group, and as an individual who grew up in a Japanese society whose entertainment industry was — and still is — primarily fronted by post-Bubble (Lost Generation) survivors like Masami Nagasawa, Haruka Ayase, Hikari Mitsushima, and Kentaro Sakaguchi.
For these reasons, part of TWICE’s success in Japan also goes beyond the J-Line themselves. In fact, a significant element of the group’s sound has taken after many Japanese idol groups before them, having proven that it is possible to convey meaning and emotion in song without an unrealistic abundance of vocal technicality, and even when said technicality has been on full display before.
Frankly, if TWICE are still expected to deliver powerhouse vocals on all fronts, then I don’t think this specific sphere of the K-Pop community could survive a single second of SMAP. Multiple TWICE members may hold a tune far better than anyone in SMAP, but each members’ varying tones complement each other well and often bounce off each other playfully, making both groups nothing short of entertaining.
In holding groups like TWICE to these hypocritical standards, this form of discourse has only sought to limit one’s enjoyment of K-Pop as a form of entertainment. After all, there isn’t one metric that makes an idol great at what they do.
By gauging a group’s strengths to vocal prowess alone, we lose what makes K-Pop’s varying aspects of performance and musicality as unique and enjoyable as they are to us and the idols themselves. It’s significantly draining when all you hear are others talking not just about how much they hate every aspect of something you thought was enjoyable, but when they are doing so in a way that makes you feel judged and obligated to start putting everything under a microscope.
For the amount of scrutiny that TWICE (and many others) have faced for the areas in which they may lack, conclusions have been drawn of the group being undeserving of their overall success. And yet, they have consistently managed to deliver something entertaining and enjoyable in avenues beyond music alone. Perhaps having apparently low standards just allows us to enjoy more things too.
Time and again, parts of South Korean media have endlessly rhapsodized over North/South relations, but haven’t done much culturally to encourage better relations with Japan and South Korea. On the other hand, a sizable amount of Japanese media has actively portrayed its ethnic Korean population as walking stains on its country, despite the noticeable emergence of Zainichis in Japanese entertainment at the beginning of the 21st century.
And then there is TWICE.
While often glossed over by many Western fans, the possiblity of seeing Korean and Japanese idols create genuine friendships and become such a popular group together was almost unheard of at the time of TWICE’s debut. Some ONCEs will watch a video of Sana and Dahyun joking around and simply enjoy it, though what blossoms is its unintended effect of promoting positive relations, which still stands as a symbol of hope for better future relations between Japan and South Korea.
The bonds between TWICE’s Korean and Japanese members show that these caring relationships can be made real. More importantly, they actively acknowledge each others’ cultural differences without making them the sole reason for their importance to the group as a whole. TWICE and MISAMO may not have singlehandedly turned things around for Korean-Japanese relations, but they have made important contributions to it at a difficult time. We can only hope that these will be fully appreciated as time goes on.
All things considered, the extent of TWICE’s impact remains unique because many girl groups after them have been replicated in their image to some extent. In considering the same cultural landscape that TWICE were created in (and subsequently changed), K-Pop’s current influx of Japanese, Taiwanese, and Chinese idols wouldn’t have happened otherwise.
Even when consuming East Asian pop culture as a whole, there’s also been a slightly unspoken agreement that regardless of geopolitics, eventually all of East Asian culture will bleed into each other. We’re already seeing this with how current Japanese idol groups like PSYCHIC FEVER are starting to frequently incorporate the styles and sounds of their contemporaries from across the pond.
Given the resilience of TWICE, sometimes I’m forced to wonder how we’re anywhere near the place we are in Japan and Korea’s cultural mixing. Idols may let us dream of it, but even when TWICE’s impact is as undeniable as it is, it’s still a really long way to go.
