[Grace Kao] AI and songwriting in Seoul

Artificial intelligence is on my mind a lot these days. Its proliferation has not only complicated my day job, but also affects popular music. The digital audio workstations like Logic Pro, Cubase and Ableton that professional songwriters use contain their own AI tools. Entire songs can easily be generated using tools like Suno.

Despite my generally somber feelings about AI and its role in popular music and everything else, my recent trip to Seoul gave me a glimmer of hope. My near-euphoria came from listening to original live music.

Most of my younger friends probably see me as a curmudgeon who is anti-technology, but this is not true. My generation lived through the transition from acoustic and electric forms of traditional instruments like the piano to the electric organ, or from the acoustic to the electric guitar. Then, in 1982, with groups like Kraftwerk and Yellow Magic Orchestra, the public was introduced to the possibilities offered by programmable synthesizers. Later, synthesizers shrunk to the size of keyboards that could be played by anyone, and we witnessed the dawn of synth-pop with artists like The Human League, Thomas Dolby, Howard Jones, New Order, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark and Alphaville. I am a lifelong fan of synth-pop.

One stereotype of popular music these days, including that of K-pop, is that songs are now quickly generated via software packages by people who are not true musicians, or that the songs on the charts cannot easily be performed by live musicians on stage. I’m not here to argue for or against the veracity of these claims, but I witnessed very different forms of music in Seoul.

The Modern K Academy, a hagwon in Suwon that trains students for careers in music, recently featured an evening of performances of original compositions. Students performed their own compositions, either alone or in an ensemble of other students. They later had to respond to critiques by the head of the hagwon and explain the musical and lyrical content of their songs.

What struck me was how retro these songs sounded — right out of the 1970s and 1980s — but they were performed by young people born well after 2000. They were all clearly composed on a piano or guitar, and the students played each part of the song without the assistance of a backing track.

Sam Core, who hails from Armenia, was one of the artists. He played the piano and sang his original song, “Feelings.” This was a traditional power ballad that could have been released when I was younger than Sam.

He described his writing process: “The song ‘Feelings’ was started at my best friend’s house. They had a grand piano and I started just playing the chords. I closed my eyes for a moment to concentrate on certain melodies, and just like every other melody, it just came to my head. I thought about the bridge, and at some point had more than 12 versions of that song. I was also singing and composing so many other songs in school, and was having a hard time because I was bullied at school. I finished the lyrics and bridge after arriving in Korea, where I had time to fully devote myself to music.”

I also saw five indie bands at Club BBang on June 27. The bandmates played guitar, bass or the drums. Imagine my shock when the first Asian Mod Revival appeared. Their band name referred to the “Mods,” a teenage subculture in the late 1960s to 1970s in the UK. The lead singer wore a T-shirt for the post-punk New Wave Mancusian group The Buzzcocks, which I actually teach about in my class. In fact, they sounded so much like The Buzzcocks, The Stone Roses or early songs of The Jam that we might have been listening to a band in 1970s England.

They were followed by another punkish group called Varnish. The female lead singer was animated and they had a dynamic bass player and an extremely skilled guitarist. An excellent punk group that reminded me of 1970s groups The Runaways, The Slits and X. Again, no AI.

Ingerbul (Ember) was the next group. The lead singer wore strikingly beautiful wide-cut pants. I would label them as emotive shoegaze. I thought of The Jesus and Mary Chain and Echo and the Bunnymen of the 1980s.

Fourth up was Noback, a group of three men on drums, guitar and bass. They were pure traditional rock, but what stood out was that the guitarist seemed to be the favorite of about eight women, who immediately stood up when they came on stage and only filmed the guitarist. Pure rock, like Green Day or Coldplay.

Finally, the night ended with Asrai. They had a dynamic lead singer who wore large yellow-tinted sunglasses. A bit of progressive rock through the lens of psychedelic rock, but definitely leaning towards harder rock sounds — maybe like The Cult?

I left that evening joyful that the music of the 1970s to 1990s was thriving in the indie club scene in Seoul, at least among the 20-something-year-old musicians we saw. And at Modern K Academy, young people were required to write and perform songs sans AI. Maybe the robots won’t be taking over our music just yet, and there will still be a place for old-fashioned music.

Grace Kao

Grace Kao is an IBM professor of sociology and professor of ethnicity, race and migration at Yale University. The views expressed here are the writer’s own. — Ed.

khnews@heraldcorp.com