With the immense help of redditor and acquaintance /u/equilibriphile (whom has a much more extensive knowledge of music theory, and music in general, than I do), he and I will be dissecting the much-lauded record in a track-by-track review. Our tastes are essentially the opposite and yet even here there’s a general consensus on the quality of the album and which songs are the standouts… granted, my reviews are much more sensationalized and elaborate, while his are more straightforward and technical. But first, a bit of context for anyone unfamiliar or just dipping their toes into K-pop (*cough*turn away now*cough*).

The History of f(x)

Rocky Beginnings

2009 was essentially the “Big bang” for K-pop girl groups. While there had been sporadic hits from girl groups as far back as the late 90's, and while those hits had definitely increased in frequency in the years prior (most notable being the ones courtesy of the Wonder Girls), the onslaught of girl group success in 2009 is still unmatched. Starting off the year with what could be argued as the biggest girl group single of the past 20 years— Gee by Girls’ Generation — the year snowballed from there, with the debut of Afterschool, KARA’s first chart-topper in February, Girls’ Generation rivals 2ne1 debuting in May, 4Minute’s debut the following month, along with the Wonder Girls becoming the first K-pop group to ever enter the US Billboard Hot 100, and the Brown Eyed Girls releasing their massive hit, Abracadabra, in July, which was nearly as big as Gee.

Then came f(x), a quirky five-member group consisting of leader and main dancer Victoria Song, vocalists Krystal Jung and Park Sun-young (who goes by her stage name, Luna), main rapper Amber Liu, and “Visual” of the group (the presumptive widely-appealing, marketable, renaissance role) Choi Jin-ri — aka Sulli, who has since departed from the group. They made their debut on September 1st with La ChA TA, and it did relatively well, but it wasn’t necessarily a hit — especially compared to the rest of the crop (although it’s hard to really know for sure, as South Korea didn’t implement their own Billboard-like music chart until 2010). Additionally, f(x)’s weirdness was noted right off the bat, and it wasn’t always noted positively. Their style was at an awkward midway point between Girls’ Generation and 2ne1 — edgier than the former but not as aggressive as the latter — and without either the catchy Bubblegum that earned Girls’ Generation recognition, or the powerhouse dance tracks that cemented 2ne1. La ChA TA was a lukewarm New Jack Swing track, and the europop followup, Chu, was similarly underwhelming. f(x) was more in the camp with T-ara, a girl group who debuted at the end of July to a similarly modest reception. By the end of the year, though, T-ara was doing well, achieving a hit with the repetitive club thumper Bo Peep Bo Peep, and releasing their first album, Absolute First Album, which would come to be revered in a similar manner to the subject of this article.

f(x) didn’t strike a hit until the following year, with the release of what should have been their debut single all along: The noisy, militant electropop stomper Nu ABO. They scored themselves their first #1 and released their first EP (which was more on par with their lackluster 2009 singles, but that isn’t uncommon in K-pop). In spite of their newfound success, the era was plagued with unfortunate events, including the rapper, Amber, breaking her leg, and vocalist Krystal collapsing during a show. While they were certainly doing much better, it seemed like things could never go totally right for them. In contrast, Girls’ Generation unleashed a trifecta of megahits with three consecutive #1’s, KARA became the first foreign girl group in nearly 30 years to have a hit in Japan, and newcomers Miss A dominated the entire month of July with their debut single, Bad Girl Good Girl, coming out on top of the year-end digital and streaming charts.

The imbalance in success continued in 2011, which would ultimately come to be their best-selling, but also most panned year. They achieved a second #1 hit with the title track for their first full album, Pinocchio; an album that was criticized online for the amount of cover songs it possessed. It didn’t help that they repackaged the album with ANOTHER cover song as the lead single (albeit their best-selling single ever), and — wait for it — the addition of two-year-old singles La ChA TA and Chu. This, combined with the group’s overall eccentricity, jokes targeting tomboy rapper Amber (“Manber”), fan-perceived neglect from their management team SM Entertainment, and of course, inevitable comparisons to much more successful girl groups, f(x) were not a cool, bohemian alternative to more conventional girl groups, so much as they were the awkward, bootleg versions of the now internationally-successful Girls’ Generation.

But finally, in 2012, f(x) found their sweet spot and started hitting a stride. Electric Shock — a manic, synth-squealing EDM number — while not selling quite as much as Hot Summer (the cover song mentioned previously), would end up becoming their signature song; selling over 1,000,000 within the first month, collecting nine music show trophies, as well as snagging them not only an Mnet Asian Music Award for Best Girl Group Dance Performance but also the Korean Music Award for Best Dance/Electronic Song. More recently, the music video made them only the third K-pop girl group to have over 100,000,000 views on YouTube. The truly impressive feat, though, was the accompanying EP of the same title. The colorful mini-album was more cohesive than any of their previous work, full of bleeping-and-blooping synth arrangements, cheerleader-like lyrical chants, bulky percussion, and an overall psychedelic undertone — particularly in the hyperactive wall-of-noise, Jet, and the groovy cowbell trip-fest, Zig Zag. Most talked about, however, was Beautiful Stranger; an urban midtempo that gave Amber a chance to show off her angsty rapping skills. It could have been disastrous, but the result ended up being, well… beautiful. With a megahit, unexpected acclaim, and a newfound sense of direction from their management team, f(x) had seemingly transformed over night. Little did the K-pop world know that this was just the appetizer.

Pink Tape

As great as the Electric Shock era was, there was one drawback: It seemed as though SM was beginning to strip away f(x)’s identity, to some extent. As was just said, it seemed like SM finally knew what direction to take f(x) — but the destination was to become like any other girl group in the process. Hot Summer from the previous year was likely their most basic track yet, and Electric Shock, as catchy as it was, could have been done by pretty much any other group. This in combination with the growing success they had stumbled upon since “De-weirding” themselves would have lead anyone to assume that their days of standing out from the crowd were over. And, in spite of how sub-par their music generally was pre-2012, they could at least always hang their hat on their uniqueness.

Any of those fears were promptly extinguished on July 17th, 2013, when the first teaser for Pink Tape was released. The teaser came in the form of a two-minute-long “Art film,” more or less spelling out the whole Pink Tape concept of f(x) making their own indie romance short. It’s packed with a variety of bizarre aesthetics, including paper-eating, a floating inflatable shark, and even a blindfolded (facefolded, actually) lesbian kiss — in imitation of Rene Magritte painting, “The Lovers.” Staying true to the standards of genuine arthouse films, much of the teaser is made to look as though it were shot in classic 8mm format; common in classic independent cinema due to the low budget. (The coolest part of all of this is that the physical album comes packaged to look like a VHS tape.) Most notable, though, was the background music. After the barely-sensical Engrish introductory monologue, a sparkly synth rustle sweeps in, bringing with it a woozy music box melody, and an unsettling computerized voice sample that sounds straight out of a 1928 Steamboat Willy cartoon. The sample is glitchy and unintelligible, except for the parts where it quite clearly sounds as though it’s chirping the word “Forever.” If you’re thinking that sounds oddly unsettling, you would be correct. The creepiness eases up upon the arrival of the jazz-inspired verse, complete with a crooning acoustic bass strum and characteristic “Feathered” drum beat, but the easy-listening of the verses stand in stark contrast to the almost dissonant choruses, with its demented flats and the return of the yodeling undead chipmunk (or whatever that thing is actually supposed to sound like).

My assumption right away was that it was just a twee retro-inspired song that creeped me out because I used to have a bizarre fear of pre-1950’s media (don’t ask). Upon closer inspection, though, it was evident that the creepiness wasn’t completely unintentional. The song turned out to be the second cut on Pink Tape, entitled Shadow, which offers a first-person perspective of a deluded stalker. The English translation includes obsessive lyrics such as, “Every day, I secretly chase after your footsteps,” and, “No one says it, but our date has started,” before amping it up to complete Annie Wilkes-level psychosis by the second verse.

Day by day, we resemble each other more and more; your laughter and tears, I know it all. Don’t be scared, we’re a fate tied by the sun; it’s our destiny to be together.

It’s one of the only K-pop songs I can think of where the lyrics are vital to fully appreciating it. It was clear at this point that with Pink Tape, f(x) was weirder — and better — than ever.

Equilibriphile’s review

Shadow is essentially f(x) in a nutshell. Immediately opening with a panned out TV audio over a xylophone chimes instrumental, it changes tack quickly into a pulsing bass-laden instrumental with a panned slidey background refrain that sets the pace for the rest of the track. Victoria and Luna’s voices fit this track very well, especially in the upper ranges. The bridge around 2:02 in particular is very pretty. The entire song reminds me of a porcelain doll you’d see set to a music box melody in those creepy movie trailers. Note the panned out synth line in the background (if you’re on a stereo system, it should be in the back bottom corner), which lurks around the background as a shadow does. The chord structure here is also rather abnormal; try listening to the track following the bass rather than the vocals, and you’ll hear that the movement doesn’t track the melody the way you’d expect. There’s a Daug chord here that’s throwing you for a loop. The song feels as if it’s trying to be evoke something a little happier, with soft, decidedly major vocals and a bright music box tinkling away, but the chords and background vocals evoke a much more wistful feeling. An ambitious, unorthodox alternative pop track from American pop hit producer/songwriter 8bit and British singer/artists Sophie Michelle Ellis-Bextor and Cathy Dennis, Shadow is Pink Tape’s hidden gem.

Shadow was definitely not the anomaly on the record. Every song was an exercise in prideful aberrance, with even the most generic track, Kick, telling the story of a girl with resilient ambition through the sole use of skateboard metaphors. That being said, it’s almost indisputable that the most bizarre, left-field, “Who even comes up with this stuff?” kind of lyrical content on the album be found in the lead single: Rum Pum Pum Pum, in which f(x) compares themselves to… wisdom teeth?

Rum Pum Pum Pum

Quite risky for a lead single, especially after the successes of Hot Summer and Electric Shock, Rum Pum Pum Pum makes for one of the most eccentric songs to ever be released to mainstream K-pop. It isn’t as instantly catchy as past singles, and can make for a jarring first listen, which is especially odd, because the song never makes any drastic shifts in structure (which, by 2013, had started becoming a trend). Instrumentally, this is about as uniform as a pop song can get, with a tense slide guitar melody that maintains a presence from beginning to end; simply repeating the same two notes. All of its merits lie in the dynamic percussion and its cornucopia of outstanding vocal harmonies. Pitchfork reviewer Jakob Dorof really put it best when he said, “Virtually every moment of the song features a compositional quirk worthy of scrutiny.” While it starts off suspiciously soft, it’s quick to throw you into a violent, thrashing beat, and displays a bit of self-awareness in its lyrics: “I’m a bit different. I pushed aside all the others and took my place.” After that comes an unmistakable marching band rhythm (it’s called Rum Pum Pum Pum, after all), accompanied by what is probably the most distinct, and most talked-about moment of the song: The vocal round. If you’re unfamiliar with it, a vocal round is a tricky harmonic technique that involves a group of people singing the same melody at slightly different times, which in practice is similar to opening three different computer tabs and playing the same song in each one. If the melody all falls under the same chord, however, it will harmonize no matter what. Keep in mind, all of this happens before the first chorus.

The rest of the song stays just as action-packed throughout, with exotic hand drums, guitar-heavy rap breaks, a short fretless bass transition to the second chorus, Samba influences, a dance break that emulates the sound of tap dancing, and subtle electronic bass wobbles in the final chorus. And, even beyond the vocal round, the level of vocal harmony is almost athletic, gleefully emphasizing one of the main factors that drew me into K-pop in the first place.

Equilibriphile:

Rum Pum Pum Pum is a fairly apt opener for the diverse dance pop style that is f(x)’s calling card. The unconventional instrumental choice immediately grabs your ear, opening with a very slidey acoustic guitar, followed by a marching band style drum beat and a slidey noise that doesn’t sound too far off from a kazoo in the pre-chorus. The track, among others, features hand drums, synth squirt, and a very loose snare. The hook is very simple, but does its job well, playing up a 60’s-esque minor scale-derived riff (in terms of scale degrees: 1, 1, 8–8–8–7). The mastering lends itself well here as well, letting the voices take front stage. Everyone sounds excellent and well positioned. The transitions from verse to pre-chorus and pre-chorus to chorus are virtually seamless and are helpful in making for a very flowy song. RPPP happens to be one of the few true rondos (think Row, Row, Row Your Boat) I’m aware of in Korean pop, and the nice transitions certainly help. The bridge also plays on the same rondo that the rest of the song has been hinting at, changing it just enough to keep it fresh. There’s a cool foot stomp ending for the bridge rather reminiscent of tap dancing. A trivia fact for Westerners: the name itself actually plays into the lyrics, referring to a wisdom tooth, a double entendre in Korean that refers to a first love. An ambitious song that could have flopped badly if executed more poorly. Excellent job by Swedish and Norwegian production teams The Kennel and Dsign Music. I personally feel that the success of this track help set the foundation for the eclectic style that Red Velvet would come out of the gate with later.

Pretty Girl

The self-awareness of Rum Pum Pum Pum ends up being a prominent theme of the album, and ends up combining with the mental instability of Shadow to create the third track: Pretty Girl. While slightly disturbing, Shadow has a very whimsical nursery rhyme vibe to it, which blends remarkably well with the fairytale narrative of the edgier follow-up. Finding its footing on a soundscape of crunk sub-bass and gritty electric guitars, the Wicked-esque song details the vindictive jealousy towards a beautiful princess who coasts through life solely on her looks; f(x) singing from the perspective of an ugly witch who has been overlooked and slighted in the process. Just like Shadow, the first verse is relatively mild, but by the second verse you’re just listening to the casting of a spell that curses everyone with the same face, accented with mischievous laughter. The highlight of the song, for me personally, is in the rap, which is undeniably and overwhelmingly cheesy, but in an endearingly campy “So bad it’s good” kind of way. Tomboy rapper Amber playfully boasts in perfect English, “Introducing the Wicked Witch of the West, so all you pretty little princesses now get out the way,” before launching into a more poignant female empowerment rant that criticizes “Boring trophy girls depending on the prince’s arm.” It’s the kind of condescending, pretentious punk rock-like attitude that should be insufferable, but doesn’t take itself nearly seriously enough to provoke anger. The song all around is incredibly charming, and though it may be unintentional, ends up painting a comedic look at the appearance-driven K-pop industry. The choruses are very weak and anticlimactic, but for whatever reason, that’s just something that you get a lot in K-pop, and something that I’ve since become accustomed to.

Equilibriphile:

“Look over here, there’s a pretty girl (hello) x4”. Hard to take a song seriously when it opens up with such cheesy lyrics delivered in a sing-song manner. A different take than the rest of the album, “Pretty Girl” sounds much more like pop rock than dance pop. The pre-chorus and chorus would sound right at home in a mid-2000’s power pop track. The chorus is very weak, not offering anything of note other than some background chants. Amber also has an extremely unflattering rap. This track’s saving grace is some cool vocal effects layered over Luna belting in the chorus, and some fun bells. Pretty Girl is by far my least favorite track on this album. It sounds rather like a Red Velvet B-track. This is really not one of f(x)’s better tracks. Chalk this up as album filler.

Kick

The album loses a bit of steam with tracks 4 and 5, the aforementioned Kick, and the more mellow Signal.

Equilibriphile:

A sassy electropop track, the Hitchhiker-penned Kick finds f(x) working with a familiar producer once more (Ice Cream on Nu ABO and Zig Zag on Electric Shock). The track is largely driven by a very strong kick drum and bass, and the synth line that flits around up high, almost like a countermelody; it’s almost hard to concentrate on the vocals with such a hyper synth line. The more aggressive, sassy delivery fits the lyrics perfectly, which talk about pushing and kicking forward on a skateboard, a potential entendre for falling in love. The track fits Sulli and Krystal very well. I did dislike how jarring the transition from the verses to the choruses were, but otherwise it was a fine track fitting of their identity, if a little generic.

Kick isn’t bad by any means — it has gorgeous pre-choruses, and a lovably-psychedelic 80’s bridge that offers a buffet of extraterrestrial synth tones — the problem is that it comes too-close-for-comfort to being a miss on an album of knock-out hits. Additionally, while it isn’t offensively out-of-place on Pink Tape, you can’t help but think when you listen to it, how much more at home it would have felt on the Electric Shock EP.

Signal

Signal borrows some of the animated synths from its neighbor with a disco-flavored 80’s synthpop piece. Interestingly enough, I always considered this to be second-worst track on Pink Tape, until I re-listened to the album for the purpose of this article. Signal is actually rather good, particularly from a production standpoint. It’s one of the more laid-back moments on Pink Tape, and as such, its main flaw is its poor placement on the tracklist. Nonetheless, it’s jam-packed with bubblegum hooks, and the punchy, mid-heavy kick sample is heavenly. Most importantly, it’s a terrific “Adhesive” for the album overall, helping to give Pink Tape a characteristic sound.

Equilibriphile:

Very cool funk pop track by SM stalwart Kenzie (of ”Into the New World”, “Oh!”, “My Name”, and “LA chA TA” fame). As is often the case with well done funk, the slap bass (almost certainly programmed) steals the show. If it makes you want to get up and dance, it’s probably doing the job right. I absolutely love the chorus. The lyrics are paced excellently with the instrumental and plays off the bass line climbing up. (Check the bass line progression). The drums fit the groove perfectly as well (though that’s likely due to being programmed to fit timings). Amber in particular sounds very good in the choruses; her voice is actually very pretty in range and could do with more featuring on f(x) tracks. Luna gets some really cool ad libs in the final chorus. The outro also flows naturally and is a neat touch. Two minor issues: Victoria’s vocals are a little weak here, and some awkward, unnecessary English late by Amber hampers the flow. Otherwise an excellent, fun track. Probably my favorite track off the album. Kenzie’s formal training in composition (Berklee-educated) always shines through strongly with well structured songs and great chord progressions.

Oh, and to top it all off, they add an extra syllable in the middle of the titular word and it ends up sounding like “Seconal,” which greatly amuses me. I’m glad I re-listened to the album when I started writing this. Unfortunately, the recent re-listen did nothing to sway my stance on what I’ve always considered to be by far the worst moment of the album:

Goodbye Summer

Nestled in the middle of the album just like its predecessor on Electric Shock, the slowest moment on the album sees the return of the Amber/Krystal/Luna subunit present in Beautiful Stranger. Goodbye Summer aims for a repeat of the emotional rawness found in its parent, but painfully misses the mark. Where Beautiful Stranger was brimming with power, Goodbye Summer merely whimpers. Where it should be sad, the melodies are more suited for a mushy R&B love duet. Where it should feel genuine and organic, it features a collaboration with D.O — a vocalist of the boy group sensation EXO, also managed by SM — and comes off contrived and gimmicky.

Now, it should be noted that this is an unpopular opinion. The song is generally more well-regarded in the K-pop sphere, and if you were to somehow take a vote from everyone who has ever listened to Pink Tape, it’s likely that the results would exonerate it of being such a huge miss after all. All I can say is that for me personally, it was the only song that I truly dreaded sitting through, when listening to the album from beginning to end.

Equilibriphile:

Goodbye Summer is a trio track from Amber, Luna, and Krystal, featuring EXO’s D.O. This is a notable track in that Amber self-composed it. Krystal actually pushed for this after hearing Amber’s English demo. Very ballady sound, but the snare drums are just sharp enough to keep it from dragging more. With both acoustic guitar and piano, the warm tone of the track fits the beautiful vocals nicely. Luna and D.O.’s harmonies are excellent, and the addition of a male voice helps give the track a weightier tone and more resonance in the range where female voices typically just don’t hit. A nice track that is actually one of the stronger ones on the album. If I have any complaints, it’s that the track almost shows off Luna and D.O. too much. Pleasant surprise by Amber.

See? Told you my opinion was unpopular. Really, the core of my hatred for it is probably the complete absence of minor seconds, which is basically the only way you can get me to enjoy an acoustic ballad. Making it even worse is that it’s wedged between two of the greatest tracks, effectively pausing any momentum gained since the temporary cool-down that came with Signal.

Step

That momentum starts with the saxophone-charged house banger, Step. Step, quite frankly, is the superior edition of Kick (all the way down to the foot-themed title), employing a particular emphasis on the bass kick, delivering an almost identical message, and cleverly making the swanky saxophone riff the centerpiece of the song so that it fits beautifully in the context of the record. Pink Tape, when inspected closely, is not a full-fledged retro album — the next two songs being discussed proving that point — but attentive little touches like the distinctive brass in Step go a long way in stitching the compilation of songs together under a larger concept.

Equilibriphile:

A highly uptempo, playful electro house track, Step is one of two tracks on Pink Tape penned by Artisans Music (the other being the closer, Ending Page). The hook is in your head from the very start of the track and continues pounding away throughout. This track is likely hit/miss depending on how much you enjoy synth saxophones. The verses are strong, with a fair number of lines delivered in a sing-talk style, for which Victoria and Sulli are the stars. Krystal in particular really shines throughout the track. The transition from the verses to the chorus are extremely smooth and well executed, and the chorus compliment the verses well. Luna gets a good opportunity to show off her pipes at the end of the bridge. My only real qualms are Amber’s awful “Hey! Get out of the way, please” at the end of the bridge, and how they saved a very cool fusion of the sing-talky lines with the fleshed out instrumental for the last fifteen seconds of the track. It’s likely meant to be a callback to the intro of the track, where Krystal sing-talks the opener over a much sparser instrumental, but it’s a shame because it sounds great, and isn’t done elsewhere on the track. Definitely one of my favorites off Pink Tape, but I’ve always been a sucker for the timbre of a saxophone. The synth sax will either drive you nuts or endear you.

Step lyrically continues the feministic themes of Pretty Girl, with an infinitely more positive tenor. The wicked witch in Pretty Girl has evolved into a confident young woman, taking pride in the fact that she doesn’t wear heels. (Yes, that is the meaning of the song.)

When you fix your makeup, I tie my shoelaces and run. Though I’m a bit busy, I like it; it feels like I’m living for myself and not for others.

Themes like this also aid in giving the album a proper structure, regardless of how musically-diverse it ends up being. Step is 100% enjoyable regardless of its message, though. The intense, fiery dance track leaves an impression all the way from its delectable four-on-the-floor thump, to its adventurous inverted pedal point harmonies, to its inordinately addictive (not to mention persistent) sax riff. Step not only fits in on the album, but does a solid service in helping to define it.

Airplane

Out of every track on Pink Tape, the one that most fits the bill for fan-favorite is track 8: Airplane. It’s probably a close match with Shadow, but Shadow has a tad bit more divisiveness associated with it, whereas I’ve never really seen anybody be less-than-enthusiastic about Airplane — and rightfully so. Airplane is a gorgeous piece of pop magic, possessing some of the finest production efforts of the album and maybe even of their career. There is not a single, solitary second of the three-and-a-half minutes that isn’t radiating with detail. Even the airy whooshes that pad the production are oddly refreshing.

The most remarkable aspect of all of this is the fact that a song like Airplane doesn’t sound out of place on an album like Pink Tape. Step, as modern as it was, always kept the sole retro quality it had right at the forefront. Airplane, however, is a thorough and unapologetic product of the 21st century, if borrowing influence from anything, the influence being from the radio-friendly complextro-lite workings of Zedd. In spite of being professionally described as “Reversed EDM” (I still have no clue what that is and it’s literally the only time I’ve ever seen the term in my life) Airplane is as classic a traditional EDM song as K-pop comes, from the archetypal build to rewarding chorus drop, and even coming in at the exemplary 128 BPM.

Using one of their typically bizarre metaphors, the song basically compares the experience of entering a relationship to that of an airplane — accepting the possibility that it could crash and hopping on board anyway.

I was scared of flying on this plane called love that carries us; I already know it will fall down soon.

I’ve felt that way before when I flew with Virgin America! Anyway, one small nitpick in association with the song is that the phrases “Come with me. Airplane. Love.” are spoken throughout the first two choruses (in English), and without the context of the rest of the song… well, it has a similar effect to hearing stock words being repeated for a hearing test. Regardless, they’re easy to look past after the first few listens, and end up working in the song’s favor towards the end.

The choruses are glitchy harmonies of intricate basslines and synth accents, intertwining and dancing with each other as they start, stop, and stutter their way through each sequence. Every euphoric burst of electronic detail is pure ear candy, from the irregular pulse of the sharp, buzzing saw waves, to the heavily-compressed snare lashes, to the single swooping dubstep wobble at the very end of each rhythmic phrase (16 beats). As I said, the cheesy “Come with me. Airplane. Love.” ends up being a pro instead of a con, as it abruptly pauses the flow of the instrumental, and makes each new bar as explosive and satisfying as the first. In addition to that, the overall structure of the track is brilliant: The first two choruses are made up of two distinct halves, with a spoken word half, and a singing half. The final chorus, however, skips right to the singing half, and simply repeats it twice, offering a perfectly subtle climax to send the song out on a bang instead of a whimper. (A huge pet peeve of mine is a good song that never really goes anywhere new after the first chorus, and gives you no reason to listen to it all the way through. Airplane remedies that beautifully, and without resorting to any flashy jumps in tempo or forced key changes.) The cherry on top is the additional synth riff in the final moments of the song, bearing sonic resemblance to a shaky flute solo.

Equilibriphile:

Airplane is one of my favorite tracks off the album. Another track from Dsign Music, this is synthpop pretty close to its purest form, laden with heavy instrumentals. The pulsing bass drum sets the pace early, and the instrumentals all start coming in and building around 0:50 onward until an EDM-style drop. The start/stop nature of the backing synth lines and the wobbling bass evoke moving from destination to destination, not unlike a traveling airplane. Krystal’s high melody lines and the pulsing high synths emulates the feeling of flitting around the clouds very well. They contrast Amber and Luna’s voices in the lower range nicely. The verse to the chorus transition is a little awkward if you’re not a fan of EDM drops, so your mileage may vary. Shifting back out to the verses, however, is very smooth. The song structure and relies largely on the chorus to drive things along. Great work by Dsign Music. Super fun, upbeat track. I’m mostly impressed by the instrumentals, but the vocals fit the instrumentals very well. A cohesive, well-done effort.

Toy

Thanks to Airplane, the track that follows is just as well-suited — although, like Step, this one also has a few tricks up its sleeve to fit in. Track 9, entitled Toy, is yet another phenomenal slice of electronic goodness, as well as the most disjointed song on the album. The verses are bright cheerleading pep talks (not unlike what you’d find on the Electric Shock EP), sprinkled in with intermittent gargles of robotic bass wobbles. The choruses are more melodic, as well as more tense, with deeper basslines and fatter synth leads, making for an effective moody contrast to the sunny verses. Conceptually, Toy further explores the depths of feminism, with one of the less oddball metaphors: Men who manipulate and play with their girlfriends like toys. As usual, they take the metaphor and run with it, analogizing a guy with multiple girlfriends to a toy collector. Amber coyly bellows, “Hey! What do you wanna get this time, Mr. Collector?” just before the track erupts into chaos. But before we get to that, some alternative fac — ahem — opinions from Equilibriphile.

Equilibriphile:

Toy opens like it’s going to be straight out of a Kidz Bop track, but then launches into a sing-songy verse followed by a fairly fast rap. This one is definitely Sulli’s track. However, at 0:45 it suddenly switches over in a full electronic dance instrumental for the chorus. Penned by Britons Herbert St. Clair Crichlow and Anne Judith Wik and Swede Erik Lidbom, this track was given some kind of mistaken personality disorder. There’s a truly awful dubstep-inspired dance break at 1:58 kicked off by Amber’s English, and it’s also jarringly transitioned out of right back into another chorus. Toy is definitely the black sheep of the album; generic and weak.

I will admit, I’m a sucker for dubstep. I’m also a sucker for disjointed songs with personality disorders, as Equilibriphile described. These two biases are probably the most responsible for our stark contrast in opinion on this song (it’s actually rather poetic, since Toy is filled with stark contrasts). Dubstep breaks had become standard fare in K-pop by 2013, which I of course didn’t mind, but that isn’t what makes Toy so special. What makes Toy so special is also what shapes it into fitting in with the whole Pink Tape puzzle, which is the tragicomical symphony in the background of the bridge. The ferocious screeching of the strings collaborate with the fizzy growling of the wubs to make an astoundingly complementary partnership; a combination in K-pop I have yet to see attempted again. Taking cues from its sister Airplane, Toy ends on a high note, with a brand new post-chorus segment that incorporates the repetition of the title, and a sinister “Nanananana” melody to top all of it off. Toy is undoubtedly one of the few hit-or-miss songs on Pink Tape, but for those that it hits, it hits hard.

No More

Admittedly, the final three songs on the album are not the best, but they’re also far from the worst. #10, No More, delves into Doo-wop, allowing f(x) one final opportunity to show off their stellar vocal harmonies; perhaps not as technically impressive as the vocal round in Rum Pum Pum Pum, but just as smooth. The bittersweet soul installment is also the final feminist anthem on the record, expressing frustration with a “Fox-like friend” who changes her personality for every guy that she meets. Like a lot of tracks that fall under the R&B umbrella, it doesn’t leave a particularly huge impression, but it’s remarkably easy-on-the-ears, features a bassline straight out of Duffy’s Mercy, and all-in-all makes for a worthy addition to the tracklist.

Equilibriphile:

No More is a big time throwback. Not a surprise, given that it was original written for American pop singer Arianna Grande, but did not make it onto her first album, at which point Republic Records representatives sold the song rights to SM, where it was rearranged for f(x). A retro track, No More is soul-inspired through and through, doo wops and all. As such, Luna takes the baton and runs with it. The track is largely vocal driven, as was much of soul back in the day, and the ladies deliver. I would have liked to hear a better mixed and mastered track to separate out the vocals more from the instrumentals, but you get what you get with SM. Moment of note: there’s a very cool modulation to another key on the chord change at 2:10, and it’s also slid out of just as cleanly at 2:40. There are also some quite weird choice of spoken words to close the track. Drastically different from the rest of the dance and alternative pop that makes up Pink Tape, No More is a very welcome change of pace, though I probably would have placed it earlier in the track list.

Equilibriphile’s review reminds me: No More is one of the few songs that I think would have benefitted from a key change in the last chorus. As he said, it’s surprisingly well-done during the bridge, but it reverts back to its former key before the final chorus. Key changes in K-pop are usually sloppily-done and basically just make for lazy, unimaginative climaxes, but if done right they can really propel a song above and beyond (see: Expectation by Girl’s Day). The modulation in No More is indeed so smooth that I almost think it “Earned” the key change. That would have given it more of a “Wow” factor and helped it to shine amidst the competition, and I actually wonder why the producers DIDN’T go for it. I also agree that this would have been better at the beginning of the tracklist, with the likes of Shadow and this next song…

Snapshot

Snapshot is considered by many to be the least remarkable on the album; not particularly infectious or impactful, and clocking in with by far the shortest running length. While all of this is true, Snapshot is actually vital to the album’s tone and consistency. In fact, if I had to pick one out of the 12 to “Summarize” the album’s sound overall, it would be Snapshot — a moody hybrid of retro and electropop. Lyrically, the song is a surprising 180 from the anti-vanity themes found in the other songs, instead opting to narrate the thought process behind an appearance-conscious, Burlesque-reminiscent glamorpuss. The tongue-in-cheek outrageousness of the lyrics (“The angle of which I hold my coffee should be 45.8”) reeks of parody, which, within the context of the rest of the album, may be fully intended. The shady vaudeville-style number incorporates a ritzy “Mesdames et messieurs” greeting, old-fashioned camera clicks, and a Marilyn Monroe reference, implicating a sort of confirmation that Pink Tape is indeed a retro-themed album, regardless of its sonic variety. Moreover, the fuzzy electronic synth leads that comprise the explosive choruses manage to bind together the retro with the present, adding one final drop of coherence to a record that experiments with multitudes of unrelated genres.

Equilibriphile:

An awkward introduction, but a lot of things can be acceptable if you’re going to deliver on a ragtime opener. This certainly caught me by surprise, as it’s rare to hear ragtime in pop music unless you perform swing pop as the norm. This track is right out of the electro swing playbook. Fans of Caravan Palace will likely enjoy. In the same vein, once the actual track starts, it’s full electronic and super synth heavy. And of course, with a track title like Snapshot, you have to have a flash camera sound effect going off every once in a while in the background. There’s a deliberate compositional choice here in that the verses are swung, but the choruses are in straight 4/4. I would have been interested in hearing the entire song swung, as the piano and the drums are really what keeps this song moving along. The snippets of synth brass do fit well here though. Like Step, there’s also a lot of sass in this track, and all the ladies deliver pretty well, though Krystal steals the show again in my opinion. Snapshot’s placement in the track list compliments No More well, given that both are retro tracks. I think Snapshot could have fit just fine right in the middle of the album to smooth things over a bit more from all the non-stop electropop though. An okay track with some cool ideas, but the execution is not so clean. The intro and outro are sloppy and doesn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the track. I understand what they were going for, but the dense, electronic heavy sound doesn’t go well with a stripped down, “mysterious” piano.

It seems that if there is one prevailing flaw of Pink Tape, it is the order of the songs. Equilibriphile thinks it would have gone better in the middle, and I personally think it would have been the perfect opening track, but it definitely shouldn’t have been the penultimate song on the album. In any case, while Snapshot may not be everyone’s cup of tea, Pink Tape wouldn’t be the same without it.

K-pop albums have a reputation for ending with obligatory ballads or somber midtempos, and Pink Tape isn’t necessarily an exception. Thankfully, f(x)’s spin on the cliche has a little bit of a bite to it, finishing off with a destitute power pop anthem, appropriately titled Ending Page.

Ending Page

Equilibriphile:

A bit of a departure from the rest of the album, Pink Tape ends with a decidedly alternative rock sounding track, complete with distorted electric guitars, similar to power ballads more apropos for their seniors CNBlue or FT Island. If you listen carefully, you can also hear a piano. The sound is fairly stripped down on the verses as to let the vocals take center stage, but it feels rather contrived since the guitars are lacking in emotion. The track is hammering you in the face with minor tonality in the verses until it hits the chorus, where it tries to transition to a very bland, typical I-V-ii-IV in the chorus that’s meant to sound a little more hopeful and bright, but rather fails at it. It would be a much better fit for the album if Amber didn’t pen her own track that actually outshines this professionally composed one. Not an awful track, but SM can do better.

Lyrically, it’s a typical breakup song, which is a little disappointing considering the rest of the album, but sonically it’s like a miniature version of Beautiful Stranger, employing similar guitars, booming hip-hop beats, and even a catchy ohohoh-ladden hook. The emotional sharps (see how much nicer I am when they incorporate a minor second?) in the choruses are very nice; ending the album on a nostalgic note, without coming across irredeemably schmaltzy. It should also be noted that this song ends the setlist for their first tour, because it’s just such a perfect way to end things. Ending Page certainly isn’t the best on Pink Tape, but it holds up just decently enough to ensure that the album doesn’t end on a whimper.

That first tour, by the way, was a milestone f(x) didn’t reach until early last year, more than 6 years after their debut. This is one among many examples you can find online from fans who believe SM has shafted f(x) over the years, in favor of more reliable hitmakers like Girls’ Generation and EXO. If this is true, I wouldn’t consider it preposterous to infer that the lack of attention from their label is exactly what let f(x) get away with an album like Pink Tape in the first place. The only puzzling part of that theory is that Pink Tape was produced after the successes of Hot Summer and Electric Shock, where SM would have started paying more attention to them. Of course, I wouldn’t see this type of over-analysis as necessary if Pink Tape was a fluke album. If by 2014, f(x) had gone back to making Hot Summers, I wouldn’t think anything of it… but they didn’t. That, of course, is a subject for another article.

Final Thoughts

Pink Tape, of course, isn’t a perfect album, but even in its less extraordinary moments, nothing is bad enough that it takes away from the brilliance of its strong points. Like I said, the scathing review of Goodbye Summer is uncommon, and is more a personal testament to how boring I find R&B ballads. Kick and Ending Page aren’t terrific, but they’re enjoyable nonetheless. Usually, in the countless discussions praising it online (it has come to be colloquially referred to as Pink Bible by f(x) fans), someone will say something along the lines of, “I think x is my least favorite, but that one is really good too,” which is a characteristic that sets it apart from the two follow-up albums.

It was almost as if SM got a taste of mega-successful f(x) and decided they liked them better the way they were before. There’s evidence of this right on the cover of Pink Tape, which features a clever genre-checkoff on the label, with Cult being one of the marked boxes. It would seem as if, after Electric Shock, SM had an epiphany: f(x) didn’t need to be as successful as their other acts — they could fill some other niche. Whether that niche is to be a group that gives SM more artistic credibility, or just an experimental dumping ground for SM to try out new styles, one thing was made abundantly clear on Pink Tape: They’re a bit different. They pushed aside all the others and took their place.

And from there, we wind up where we started — another food analogy — as I cite my favorite passage from one of the many gushing Pink Tape reviews you’ll be able to find online.

f(x) is a group that dares to be the pistachio flavored ice cream in a freezer full of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. They’re weird, they’re not for everyone, but they’re not trying to be for everyone. People who like ‘Pink Tape’ are the people who are hungry for something new and different in the sea of been-there-done-that that K-Pop can start to feel like after a while. f(x) has enough of a foot in the mainstream to merit bringing big-name songwriters and producers into the mix, but they’re just off-the-wall enough to earn themselves as much hipster credibility as an idol group can have. It’s taken some work to find the exact mix that works for f(x), but all that work is paying off, as ‘Pink Tape’ is easily one of the best idol albums released so far this year.

Special thanks again to equilibriphile for finding the time in his very busy schedule to collaborate on this review with me. He is an all-around music hobbyist who primarily listens to metal, and happens to be studying and applying chemistry in an effort to develop more affordable and effective medicine for the world (AKA much more respectable taste in music and much better things to do with his time than I do!).