To write adequately about love would likely require referencing countless essays, academic papers and books. There are as endless a number of perspectives on love as there are books written by philosophers, and there are just as many kinds of love. To Hegel, love is a state found through realizing the contrast between self and other and reaching a higher plane through it. To Sartre, it’s the struggle between freedom and possessiveness. But perhaps it can be explained in more humble terms. For some, love is an act of consideration and care. For others, it’s the intense, unforgettable feeling of that first meeting. And then there are those for whom love represents the hope that the idol they’ve only ever seen on their screen will always be happy.
Every one of these definitions shares something in common: the presence of the other—of someone else. Perhaps Erich Fromm’s words from The Art of Loving—“I love in you everybody, I love through you the world, I love in you also myself”—are the clearest definition of love. This is why the word “love” is the first thing that comes to mind when listening to the songs HUH YUNJIN writes.
In them, there’s always a you—an other. In “Raise y_our glass” for instance, she comes to understand her own existence through someone else, for whom she’s grateful (“I don’t know what I’d be doing without you”). Similarly, in “love you twice,” she wonders how others view her and hopes they’ll love her just the way she is. HUH YUNJIN’s gaze looks outward. To be more precise, it’s centered on the people around her. Her lyrics are filled with emotions that bloom inside her when meeting their eyes—a love that radiates from a tranquil warmth somewhere deep within.
At times, however, she turns her gaze inward. Take the straightforward lyrics of “I ≠ DOLL,” for example, where she echoes the faceless voices of onlookers who would pass judgment on idols: “Yesterday you called me a doll / And today you’re calling me a b***h.”
Despite that, those voices surrounding her help her focus on the voice inside her, which in turn makes her stronger. In her song “blessing in disguise,” HUH YUNJIN turns her gaze to the big picture, reflecting on the crossroads she’s encountered coming this far and realizing that each and every decision she’s made along the way has ultimately been for her own sake. The natural endpoint she sets her eyes on is herself.
The hand that holds the pencil
HUH YUNJIN is a storyteller at heart, opening up about herself not through genres but through narratives. The five singles she’s written and released so far have no overlap where musical genre is concerned, but the diversity shapes the feel of her stories and sharpens the nuances of her emotions. The lyrics with which she explores her narratives and the genres she chooses to back them both become amplified.
She mixes rock and trap in “I ≠ DOLL” to back her direct but intense lyrics with equally powerful music, while the way she opens herself softly in “love you twice” and shows gratitude for quiet days spent with the people close to her in “Raise y_our glass” are underlined by acoustic pop as gentle as a spring breeze. “blessing in disguise,” meanwhile, is wrapped up in rhythmic violin and perky guitar, transforming the proverb into a lively disco track.
This same approach explains why her song “jellyfish” can dive a little deeper into the conversation it’s trying to have. She layers acoustic guitar, ukulele, and other instruments to comfortably fill the space with imagery of the deep ocean, drifting jellyfish, and giving into the push and pull of serene waves. The understated R&B/soul sound creates the vast sea where jellyfish swim and allows listeners to see their own jellyfish from their own perspective. Once again, the idol has carefully selected the genre and instruments most apt for the message she wishes to convey.
In a way, HUH YUNJIN’s songs are like sketches. When you draw with pencil, you don’t set the final picture in ink, as you do literally with a pen or brush. Instead, as you draw, erase, and add layers, you’re reshaping and refining the image. “jellyfish” feels much the same. Though the overall song seems as simple as a jellyfish pulled unperturbed along by the water, it’s built upon countless small observations and stories about ordinary people’s lives. HUH YUNJIN captures these moments in her song and layers them into a portrait of love. Some days, she deepens the shadows through repeated strokes. Other days, she fills a soft background like a tranquil wave. Every song she releases expresses love in a different way.
Just keep swimming
Jellyfish are very passive creatures, moving only with the current. With no brain, heart, or bones, they rely solely on a network of nerves to sense changes in their surroundings. It’s possible to underestimate the humble jellyfish—after all, we’re taught that you have to actively navigate your way through the harsh realities of life to grow—but jellyfish can live in water regardless of temperature or depth, calling the vast majority of the planet’s ocean their home. They look remarkably graceful as they drift along with the water, and the way they glow for protection or communication is like a gift of beauty from nature.
When looked at that way, the same traits that make a jellyfish appear fragile are what become its unique assets. Imagine that we live in the ocean and the jellyfish is someone who floats through life without a clear sense of purpose. People who are driven by a desire for something are often inclined to fight against the waves of life. They have a clear destination set in their minds and become incapable of going with the flow. Consequently, they get swept up and even turned around every which way. Such people inevitably get hurt, while those who steadily swim their way through a daily routine with no grand ambition embrace life’s waves. They might still get hurt in ways they didn’t see coming, but they get right back to riding the waves, just like they always have.
That’s not to say one approach is better than the other. In HUH YUNJIN’s song, the “jellyfish” who calmly embrace life’s waves as they come are a point of envy for her because of how they stand in contrast with her own way. Unlike jellyfish, HUH YUNJIN cares too much about “what goes on out of the water,” and it torments her to the point where she wants to “disappear without a trace.” She admits to being “washed up on the shore” and contemplates, “What am I searching for?” These lines hint at her defiance against the tides life throws at her.
“jellyfish” doesn’t simply stop at praising the creature’s approach to life or what makes it beautiful. The lyrics feel like a conversation between HUH YUNJIN and the jellyfish. For instance, the idol, whose perspective form the basis of the track, sings, “Just cruising with no destination / You’re drawn to someplace we don't know,” after which the jellyfish seems to respond: “Just keep swimming / No good reason … Not much meaning to life / Why is there no heart?” The phrase “just keep swimming” appears again later, but this time with a twist: the line is followed by HUH YUNJIN singing, “I just go with the flow,” showing she’s now focused on herself and taking action. It’s as though the jellyfish has comforted her—or perhaps she’s become one with it.
HUH YUNJIN may start her songs with her love aimed at someone else, but it always come back around to herself. The way she sees others becomes a key to understanding herself—a realization that eventually extends to life as a whole. Her hand may move in slightly different ways each day as she sketches out her ideas, but the pictures that appear beneath the tip of the pencil always follow the same thread: singing about herself. And so, little by little each day, HUH YUNJIN completes her portrait of love.
