Late at night.
In the PBS Public Hall, Music Café was in full swing.
“Waaaah...!”
A roar of cheers greeted indie singer-songwriter Hong Saet-byeol as she poured her heart into her performance. We smiled and applauded at the electrifying live show.
‘Tonight’s stage is really amazing.’
That thought was unanimous among the audience. With a lineup of famous artists, engaging talk segnts, and stellar performances, there was no dull mont. All the more exciting, then, to wonder who the final perforr would be.
‘Maybe Cha Woo-hyun? Or Yun Chan-hyuk?’
As couples and friends whispered guesses, the cara caught a pair of twenty-sothings covering their mouths in suspense. Then:
“Thank you!”
Hong Saet-byeol bowed and left the stage to applause. MC Ha Seung-ju returned, adjusting her glasses.
“That was an incredible live set, right?”
“Yessss!”
“Next up is soone who will really surprise you all.”
The audience leaned forward. Hands revealed cue cards playfully.
“As a hint, they made their coback just yesterday.”
Gasping rippled through the hall—one group leapt to mind.
“And they’ve returned with a title track full of a unique atmosphere.”
“Waaaah!”
It was certain: most of us here had already heard yesterday’s chart-topping song with its traditional-instrunt fusion.
‘Is it... NewBlack?’
Heat rose from the audience. On Mister Producer—now boasting record ratings—NewBlack served as vocal ntors. Self-producing from composition onward, they were icons. The chance to see them live set every seat to fidget.
“You all know who I’m talking about already,” Ha Seung-ju laughed. “Who /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ do you think it is?”
“NEWBLACK!”
“Who?”
“NEWWWWBLACK!”
The cheering audience confird it.
“That’s right—NewBlack, the next-gen national idols! Let’s welco their stage!”
“Waaaah!”
Cara close-ups showed excited couples and friends high-fiving. One fan bead at “NewBlack” on the screen. Parents whispered to children, watching eagerly.
“Waaaah!”
Silhouettes appeared as the lights went down—flowing robes hinting at modernized hanbok. Staff bustled to set the stage. Five sat on chairs, another on a traditional string instrunt. As the spotlight rose:
‘Gayageum?’
Under a pinlight, a player’s fingers plucked the gayageum’s strings, filling the air with a gentle springti lody. During the solo, lights brightened across the stage.
“Wow...”
Gasps rose everywhere. Draped in black overcoats like cloaks, the handso young n nodded along. Bathed in light, they seed unreal—like spring-visiting immortals co to play among flowers. Even sitting still for three and a half minutes, their beauty was applause-worthy.
‘They’re even more stunning in person. The cara can’t do them justice.’
Perhaps owing to recent buzz, the audience felt their aura physically. The lead vocalist lifted the mic.
“Petals drifting as they bloom,
Swaying softly in the breeze—”
Her soft voice recited a sijo-style verse. Unlike the original arrangent, the gayageum gave the song a serene cadence. The audience watched, rapt.
‘The arrangent is brilliant.’
Many assud Uju himself had arranged it—smiling at how perfectly the traditional instrunt lded with their vocals. Even seated, the interplay among the five felt like a sentient conversation with the gayageum strings. And that chorus, once more, was exquisite:
“Co back when flowers bloom—
Co back when flowers bloom—”
Five voices harmonized seamlessly with the gayageum. As the main vocalist led the blend, the audience’s eyes widened at a spine-tingling high note.
“......!”
I recalled his vocal-expert role on MiP—his acuity so sharp he’d correct every pitch. Here, each note was pristinely delivered, like a master pianist gliding across the keys. Soft yet clear, his voice spread through every corner of the hall.
‘Is this the vibe you only get from veteran virtuosos?’
Each mber shone in turn: the rapper tilting his head at us while rapping, locking eyes with the audience; the main dancer swaying in his seat with elegant lines; the maknae fluttering lashes in a captivating expression. Their natural showmanship overflowed—no wonder they’d conquered this scene.
“Return, I shall say, when spring was ours.”
The lead vocalist’s final note of “Nakhwa” drew thunderous applause.
“Waaaah!”
The hall reverberated with claps as NewBlack bowed. Whispers spread among the audience:
“That was insane.”
“Totally different from what I expected. Amazing.”
“TV and reality feel worlds apart.”
For most, this was the first live encounter after only seeing them on variety shows—where they’d been 90% charming goofs. Here, that image simply vanished under the brilliance of their presence.
“That was an incredible stage.”
“Right—yesterday’s release was “Nakhwa,” correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Congratulations—you caused a sensation at coback.”
“Oh, no.”
Uju waved his hand conspiratorially, drawing laughter.
“It’s not a total riot... just a bit?”
“Make it smaller, hyung.”
“Like this?”
He pinched his fingers closer, prompting even louder laughter.
Ha Seung-ju said, “I was surprised checking charts this morning—#1 on the daily chart: NewBlack’s ‘Nakhwa.’”
“That’s right~!”
They raised index fingers in unison, and the audience smiled.
“I tried reading MV comnts—wall-to-wall English... truly global growth.”
“Thank you so much, senpai.”
As the audience applauded, she shifted topics.
“And Music Café helped nurture NewBlack.”
“That’s true—at every critical mont, MuCa’s support helped us grow.”
“Yes. PD Kim and our writers, you saw this—no editing it out!”
After banter, they dove into the song discussion.
“I want to talk about that arrangent—it was breathtaking.”
“Yes, our Uju hyung did it.”
Biju bead proudly, and everyone laughed.
“The player begins with a pluck of the gayageum...”
“Right—the master who played is among the country’s top gayageum artists...”
Uju reached to introduce the musician, but blinked.
“Where did they go...?”
“I think they left.”
“I asked them to wait a mont... Junghyun.”
As staff hurried to fetch the gayageum artist, Rapper Junghyun solemnly raised the mic.
“Senorseeeennn—”
He elongated the syllables like an operatic echo, sending the hall into peals of laughter. Ha Seung-ju giggled.
“They must be far away. But Junghyun is calling them...”
“Sorry!”
At that mont, the gayageum artist Song A-rang scurried back onto stage, wiping sweat from her brow. The audience—along with Ha Seung-ju—stared in amused astonishnt. Taking the mic, she said:
“My hands got sweaty, so I went to the restroom—and I could still hear Junghyun’s voice echoing.”
“He heard you all the way there?”
Her deadpan reply set off another wave of applause and laughter. NewBlack bead victoriously.
“Junghyun, how did you do that?”
“That’s a trade secret...”
He scratched his head, and the audience dissolved into laughter again. Junghyun raised the mic as if casting a summoning spell:
“Senorseeeennn—”
The echoing voice rippled through the hall, prompting Ha Seung-ju to deadpan, “These guys are weird...” Caras caught audience mbers fanning their faces, giggling.
“This is too much fun.”
“Ah, so funny...”
The uproar of laughter filled the hall. Fans felt the mysterious aura of NewBlack transform back into the warm, relatable idols they’d co to love. After every stage, they were consistently endearing.
After briefly introducing the gayageum artist:
“One, two, three!”
“Hello, we’re NewBlack!”
With their greeting, the talk segnt began. Ha Seung-ju, card in hand, smiled down at them.
“You just held a concert, right? I saw it myself—what an energy in the Gymnastics Arena.”
She praised their recent show, noting “NewBlack is really on fire these days.”
“This is your fourth MuCa appearance?”
“Yes. After last year’s overseas tour, and then the special album...”
“Every ti I see you, you feel different—now there’s an aura about you.”
The maknae blinked in amazent.
“Really? You sense an aura?”
“Do we have one?”
They tilted heads, but felt nothing. She replied warmly:
“It’s like an aura forming... you feel sothing break through.”
“In fact, we all work hard to maintain a consistent lightness.”
“That’s our strategy!”
The maknae and his hyungs exchanged grins, and the audience laughed.
“Anyway, welco back. So many people voted to see NewBlack again on MuCa.”
“Really?”
“In last year’s poll, you were #1 for ‘artist we most want to see again.’”
“An honor, truly.”
Ha Seung-ju read polling reasons: “They’re funny,” “I want to see button-bursting,” “My laughter cheat code”—about 70% of votes.
“The rest is for your looks?”
We grimaced playfully as she teased us, then clarified, prompting laughter.
“Now you’re the national idols—do you feel your popularity?”
“No... not yet.”
We’d been rehearsing indoors for concerts and cobacks, eating inside and catching glimpses of the hype only online or via ssages.
Well—one mont of realization:
“Oh—NewBlack...”
“NewBlack?”
“NewBlack is here.”
At the PBS building, staff had whispered and stared at us in awe. It was our first ti seeing such reactions at a broadcasting center.
“Raise your hand if you watched MiP here.”
Hundreds shot their hands up—impressive, even accounting for trend-savvy attendees. In hundreds of eyes, we were real celebrities.
“I like it. I love the attention.”
We puckered cheeks in delight, inviting laughter. Then they touched on MiP’s behind-the-scenes.
“PD Shin...”
They briefly ntioned how we’d been cast, and a highlight scene. At a ti when reruns and VOD viewership surge, our show’s 25% ratings drew passionate responses—so much so Ha Seung-ju lanted when they cut the MiP topic short.
Then:
“Now let’s talk about the album. You’ve arrived with a new concept.”
“Yes—Nakhwa is a Korean-styled song.”
“I see the lyrics are entirely Korean—any particular reason?”
“No special reason—it felt dissonant to include other languages in a traditional style.”
Jiho and I sang jokingly, “I’ll be back~ When flowers bloom,” and the audience laughed in understanding.
“Can you introduce the song?”
“Sure. Nakhwa is about parting.”
We trimd the emotional remarks from the concert and selected a few key points.
Ha Seung-ju smiled, “The song is wonderful.”
“Thank you.”
“I think NewBlack’s charm is ‘elegance and mystery’—and Nakhwa embodies that.”
He asked: “You always switch to completely different concepts—why?”
“Sohow it turned out that way.”
“You’re like, ‘Look at my changed self.’”
“No—it gets boring if we do the sa thing.”
Ri-hyuk elaborated:
“When we set a concept, we dive deep. We go all in until the end.”
“Oh? What do you an?”
“If we pick a subgenre, we test every possible angle until the album drops.”
We nodded. For Nakhwa, we said, “Let’s perfect the Korean style!” and referenced every source we could. After that deep dive, we never wanted to repeat it.
Ha Seung-ju quipped, “It’s like sampling every pizza for months before opening a pizzeria.”
“Exactly.”
“You’ve uncovered the secret: you change concepts because you get bored.”
The audience laughed at his savvy summary.
“That’s the power of self-producing idols: so good it bores them to repeat.”
In the laughter, we nodded.
“As self-producing idols, what details did you focus on for Nakhwa?”
“We emphasized curved beauty in the lyrics.”
Ri-hyuk spoke of his lyric writing: using petals instead of people, swapping harsh words for softer phrasing to keep a gentle flow.
“Oooooh.”
He ntioned vocal directing and a few accessible points. Seeing twinkling eyes, he said:
“It’s amazing—never have song discussions drawn such a response.”
The maknae sniffled with a smile.
“It’s an unexpected side. Uju becos Ujuseon when talking about songs.”
“Jiho...”
“Ha-ha-hat!”
The audience applauded and laughed. I warned, “I’ll see you later.”
“Want a bigger scolding then? Folks~”
“Jiho! Jiho! I ssed up.”
The maknae had them chanting “Can you do SEXY?” again—sothing we’d joked three tis at the concert—prompting an apologetic glare at Ha Seung-ju’s playful seal-clap.
Wiping tears from laughter, she said, “By the way, there’s one more behind-the-scenes story about Nakhwa.”
“Oh, right...!”
“Shall we hear it?”
“Of course.”
We smiled—because we had a surprise prepared.
A ripple went through the audience:
“A behind-the-scenes...?”
What secret did Nakhwa hold? So fans gasped:
“Oh! The ghost story.”
Those who’d seen the video about a ghost’s voice in the recording whispered to neighbors. Then the mbers took on eerie expressions and the mic.
“We saw a ghost while preparing this album...!”
The leader began.
“It happened during our Jeju trip—Lighting Director, dim the lights please...”
The hall darkened; the audience blinked. Suddenly the gayageum player returned onstage, plucking hollow, haunting notes. It was masterful—yet chilling, like horror-movie BGM. The audience’s eyes went wide.
“G-g-ghost?”
NewBlack mbers ford spooky smiles.
“Let us now tell you our ghost story.”
Fans blinked in surprise—here they ca for music talk, and now a ghost story began...
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