K-pop is a lot of things. It is South Korean pop music, clean-cut choreography, a culture of artist idolization, and now a global phenomenon. The worldwide spread of South Korean culture, or Hallyu, the Korean Wave, dates back to the mid-1990s when K-dramas such as What Is Love (1991) trended across Asia. In recent years, the Korean Wave has thrived on music.
In 2020, a South Korean musical act topped the Billboard charts for the first time in history. That was “Dynamite” by BTS. One could say that K-pop owes its global success to that iconic seven-member boy band. Prior to BTS, second-generation K-pop stars like Wonder Girls and PSY had made their marks on the Billboard Hot 100, but at the time, these artists were the exceptions. Today, it is no longer a surprise to hear K-pop outside of Korea.
“A strategy of Western acceptance” is what El País writer, Marta Espana, calls the shift in K-pop. English lyrics and TikTok format dance challenges have enabled K-pop to thrust itself into the North American pop culture mix and gain worldwide recognition. Was this a miracle or a cultural mouse trap? The South Korean music industry’s diversion to the West leads some to wonder whether K-pop has lost its “K.”
Various factors set the K-pop industry apart from the Western music industry, one being how an artist is prepared for their career. The trainee system in South Korea is like a long-term music bootcamp: a tight schedule of vocal, rap, and dance sessions, monthly evaluations, and the looming risk of getting dropped by your entertainment company if they deem you insufficient to debut.
A decade ago, if you wanted to become a K-pop artist or in industry terminology, an “idol”, there was no way other than auditioning to become a trainee, ideally at one of the “Big Three” entertainment companies, JYP, SM, and YG. Most would do so in their teens because trainee life lasted on average from five to seven years. The system is cutthroat like no other, requiring physical and mental endurance.
Nowadays, the doorway to the K-pop industry has widened. The trainee system still exists but many get to debut after training for just one to two years, maybe less. At the same time, going through long and harsh years of training in the same company builds a tight bond between members of an idol group, a family-like dynamic which some might argue has been lost in newer K-pop groups.
Besides the trainee system, another special aspect of this industry is the close relationship between idols and fans. A big part of an idol’s day-to-day job is interacting with their fandom, which includes frequent livestreams and text messages on designated apps like WeVerse and Bubbly, as well as fan-meetings.
At an internet café in Seoul, do not be alarmed if you spot a row of K-pop fans hovering intently over their PCs. They are just waiting to snatch themselves a fan-meeting ticket, because at these events, you not only receive an autograph but can also meet your idol one-on-one, hold their hands, or ask them to do aegyo (perform cute actions).
Any artist, Korean or not, forms a relationship with their listeners through performances and promotional events, but fan-idol intimacy is especially pronounced in K-pop and is part of the appeal. In fact, many people fall in love with a group not after listening to the music, but after feeling that they have gotten to know an idol, albeit a surface-level understanding of their personality.
Frequent fan-idol interactions allow for a valuable sense of intimacy. However, this has created a culture of idolization. There is a tacit, slightly possessive expectation for idols’ musical abilities, visual appearances, and personalities to remain consistent throughout their career. This means harsh hate comments when idols, especially female idols, gain weight. “Problematic” behaviour caught on camera can spark controversy to a point that the company decides to put an idol on hiatus.
K-pop artists are put on a pedestal, creating a high-pressure and often toxic industry environment. As such, K-pop has never been perfect, and that is ironically due to the industry’s perfectionistic standards.
If the “K” in “K-pop” encompasses its toxic perfectionism and cutthroat trainee life, then it might be good that this industry is shedding its old skin. However, part of what gets shed is the South Korean community’s affiliation with the genre.
For example, native Korean fans who have followed K-pop since the beginning struggle to recognise the “national character of the genre” in a song like BTS’s “Dynamite” — besides the band members’ ethnicities, there is nothing very “Korean” about a disco-pop single sung in full English.
BTS themselves can be taken as a case study for how K-pop has shifted over the years. The different “eras” of their discography reveal a detour from emotional storytelling (take The Most Beautiful Moment in Life albums) to upbeat songs supporting mental health (“Dynamite”). Interestingly, their earliest songs such as “No More Dream” and “N.O” reveal heavy rap and hip-hop influences, showing that K-pop has been in contact with Western music for longer than one would think.
While some complain about K-pop losing its distinctly “Korean” features, a fact of music is that it travels, and then it evolves. As K-pop and Western pop become increasingly intertwined, K-pop has started to adapt certain Western values of artistic practice. Some idols have been given more creative liberties in their music, which has not always been easy in this industry. An example is Yunjin from Le Sserrafim who has participated as a songwriter for several of her group’s songs.
What is more, the landscape for K-pop has expanded drastically. Blackpink and Le Sserrafim have performed at Coachella; Katseye is a multiethnic K-pop group based in Los Angeles; the recent Netflix hit, K-pop Demon Hunters, is beloved by both Korean and non-Korean viewers. All this proves that K-pop is not just for South Korea but can be enjoyed globally.
On March 21, 2026, the K-pop Dance Team (KDT) at UBC Okanagan hosted their annual year-end show. This year, they did a generational throwback, covering dances for new songs like Viviz’ “Shhh!” (2024) and making their way back to the early 2000s with SHINee’s “Lucifer” (2010) and Girls’ Generation’s “Into the New World” (2007).
In the audience, I observed two things. First, fewer cheers erupted during “Lucifer” than during “Shhh!” suggesting that the audience was more familiar with present-day K-pop than older songs of the genre.
Secondly, “Shhh!” had more memorable dance moves and a simpler song structure than “Lucifer,” for which the choreography was more basic and there was a dramatic high note at the end of the bridge. In that moment, the KDT dancer lip-synced to Korean lyrics and vocal flourishes, but that acting was inevitably a little awkward for the non-Korean student. Comparatively, “Shhh!” seems more suited for a K-pop dance cover at a Canadian university, a cultural landscape in which “Lucifer” was not born into.
Some things about K-pop remain the same. As KDT led the audience down memory lane, we got to see that the genre continues to be visually captivating and a lot of fun. K-pop brings people together through performance, and that is exemplified by the diversity of the KDT community.
Most members of the K-pop Dance Team at UBCO are not Korean. Students from all over the world including Vietnam, the U.S., China, and the Philippines enjoy K-pop for many of the genre’s unique characteristics that were mentioned earlier in this article.
“I am a really big fan of the music to the point that it is the main genre of music I listen to nowadays,” states a KDT member from Hawai’i, “but I also like the fan-interaction aspect of K-pop. I find myself deciding to ‘stan’ K-pop groups more because of the group’s variety [show] content as opposed to their music.”
Britt Chen from China loves the creative musical arrangements that involve a variety of instruments, as well as the stories told through such experimental melodies. “Most importantly,” adds Chen, “the dances are always enjoyable to watch and learn, letting me discover all the amazing people who work behind the scenes.”
When asked whether they think K-pop is a global genre of music or a representation of South Korean Culture, seven out of nine respondents voted for the former.
“On the bright side, the Westernization of K-pop has indeed blended a great deal of excellent and innovative styles and creative methods, making the music much more catchy,” says Chen, “Simply put, it makes good music more globalized and allows it to spread further. This is a positive thing for universal listeners, yet it also comes with many hidden issues.”
Chen explains, “For example, cultural identity and the attribution of certain musical elements have gradually become blurred amid the large-scale cultural intersection. When a K-pop song becomes a hit, people may mistakenly believe that [the musical sound] originated from the place where the song was released. If the song’s creators don’t point this out appropriately, it can lead to misunderstandings, or even disputes and conflicts.”
Mikhail from the Philippines offers a similar take: “I think K-pop has always taken from non-Korean genres, mostly without credit… and in a highly sanitised way. Saying K-pop has only recently become too Westernised ignores how the genre was built from appropriating Western sounds.”
Adding to that, another KDT member from Canada wrote, “I don’t think [K-pop] has lost its identity. K-pop has always been influenced by Western music, and its core elements — such as choreography, group dynamics, and visual storytelling — are still unique. Instead of becoming ‘too Westernised,’ it is evolving to reach a global audience while maintaining its distinct style.”
Most of the above respondents have been listening to K-pop since before BTS’s catalytic diversion to the U.S. market. Their perspectives reflect that K-pop has always been a complex web of song, dance, entertainment, and of lingering questions of cultural appropriation.
Perhaps the inclusion of Western musical elements in K-pop is nothing new, but the cultural diversity of its fanbase certainly is. Global demand will only proliferate the diverging opinions about what K-pop is and what it should be, but as with any form of music, the past sets a foundation for the genre but does not define it. Let us continue to observe how K-pop moves through this world and how its listeners move with it.
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