Every so often, an outsider manages to repurpose the entrenched tools of hip-hop with such singular style and charisma that all tiresome questions of “authenticity” are rendered completely irrelevant: Think “Ginseng Strip 2002,” “Pop the Glock,” or “Gucci Gucci.” “MAKGEOLLI BANGER,” by the rising Korean hyperpop artist Effie, might just be the latest, fizziest entry in this storied, proudly chaotic lineage. While the song’s basic outline—a generic, carefree party-girl anthem soundtracked by fluorescent hyperpop—might suggest formula, Effie’s effervescent, boundary-obliterating performance makes the track feel utterly singular. Slipping fluidly between Korean and English, she raps with manic energy, borrowing slang and cultural references with zero regard for geographical or stylistic borders. She drinks makgeolli (sparkling rice wine) until she passes out; she feels like Yung Lean; she needs her boy to speak Chinese; she says “bang bang,” in a knowing nod to Chief Keef; she is unapologetically un-sorry for her sins. The chorus feels defiantly celebratory and is fittingly punctuated by the sound of fireworks launching. This is music engineered to make you feel invincible for just under three minutes, a track as fizzy and intoxicating as its namesake beverage.
Effie has been making fractured pop music for the better part of five years, though her earlier work—which was both slicker and considerably more subdued—had far less personality. This crucial shift may be due in large part to her choice in producers; pullup to busan 4 morE hypEr summEr it’s gonna be a fuckin moviE is her first release working exclusively with the kinetic Korean-American producer kimj. After working extensively with American artists including NBA Youngboy, Rod Wave, Che, and glaive, kimj is now extending his abrasive reach into the emerging Korean hyperpop scene, producing for artists like the Deep. He draws a great deal of his foundational inspiration from PC Music—specifically A.G. Cook’s high-gloss, maximalist production—a sound that admittedly feels a bit stale in the post-BRAT era (even hyperpop’s biggest mainstream star is moving on). But his colorful, chaotic beats seem to draw Effie entirely out of her shell. She could sound almost clinical on previous releases: demure melodies, clean production, a detached layer of Auto-Tune. Here, she brings a surplus of manic energy—rapping, singing, shouting, and even pushing some of her vocals to the brink of the unhinged, like the monkey-like howls at the close of “CAN I SIP 담배.” In a sea of impossibly polished K-pop stars, she sounds gloriously unrestrained—her voice often grimy and compressed—and gloriously messy.
Her perspective seems to have evolved alongside her sound. While she initially adopted a detached, enigmatic posture (citing Drain Gang as an early inspiration), these days, she sounds more like a flippant, culturally fluent child of pop who’s equally conversant in Korean sensibilities and American hip-hop technique. Rapping in Korean on songs like “More Hyper,” she fluidly slides into different flows and fills the gaps in kimj’s chiptune barrage with squealed ad-libs that recall Young Thug. Effie sang and rapped largely in English until recently; she told Dazed earlier this year that she found it genuinely challenging to sound fluid in her native tongue due to Korean’s syllabic structure. On these new songs, however, she seems to have unlocked a previously unseen nimbleness. Now, lines that begin in English sometimes end in Korean and vice versa; she makes stitching disparate languages and cadences into a single, breathless flow sound utterly effortless.
pullup to busan 4 morE hypEr summEr it’s gonna be a fuckin moviE only runs about 13 minutes, but Effie manages to cover an impressive amount of ground in that brief runtime. On the rage rap number “2025기침,” she barks her lines one syllable at a time over a crunchy, blown-out beat. She coins a new, wobbly, playful way to bum a smoke on “CAN I SIP 담배” (which translates to “Can I sip the cigarette?”), punctuating her bars with gasps. “LET’S FIND A GOOD MANAGER” is bouncy and shot through with sunny optimism, effectively fusing hyperpop with the glossy energy of pop-punk. Meanwhile, “thankie thankie,” which closes the EP, is sentimental and bite-sized; its spoken-word vocals sound like a late-night phone call you’re eavesdropping on.
The Korean music industry has achieved worldwide domination through its brutal efficiency, producing an endless stream of impossibly slick, endlessly digestible pop—the very sort of music that PC Music artists were cheekily imagining and deconstructing a decade ago. While Effie and kimj are clearly influenced by both of those camps, their end goal doesn’t seem to be merely imitation or a simplistic critique. With these six songs, they present a compelling vision of what Korean pop could become: conversant instead of extractive in its relationship to global hip-hop, texturally abrasive, and mildly sleazy in the best mold of blog house. On pullup to busan, Effie sounds like a 22 year-old having fun with her friends, but also like something more: a prototype for a truly different kind of global pop star.
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