“Adolescence” (Netflix)
Park Soomin: What kind of world are teens growing up in when that world turns away from them saying “all kids are like that these days”? It’s a typical morning when 13-year-old Jamie suddenly finds himself arrested by armed police on suspicion of murdering his classmate, Katie. As Jamie’s parents, detectives, and psychologists delve into the case, they come face to face with the hidden realities of the teenage world. “Adolescence” exposes how issues like incel culture, toxic masculinity, and misogyny send ripples through the society teenagers grow up in. When she was still alive, Katie left Instagram comments with emojis for Jamie that were harmless on the surface but had a second, more offensive meaning. Jade, in a complete fury over the loss of her best friend Katie, assaults Ryan, a suspected accomplice in the murder. Other students post about the assault on social media to torment him with the stigma of being unmasculine. In an age when everything is laid bare online and social media is a war zone, teens shape their identities not through self-awareness, but through how others see them. As Jamie reveals in a session with a psychologist, he “didn’t care” whether he was “very good at anything,” only what “most people think” of him.

But the problems surrounding today’s youth can’t be solely attributed to social media culture or a lack of media literacy. “Adolescence” is a realistic portrayal of how a complex interplay of generational disconnect, the education system, family dynamics, and more impacts their lives. The way each episode is shot in a single continuous take metaphorically reflects this harsh reality, forcing viewers to confront it head-on and refusing to provide hasty judgment or easy solutions. Ultimately, it’s up to us to find the answers. Since its release on March 13, “Adolescence” has remained (as of April 10) the number-one show on Netflix globally and has sparked significant discussion. It might be a matter of our society rediscovering facts that should be a given, as Detective Misha Frank says in one episode while reflecting on her own school days: “All kids really need is one thing that makes them feel okay about themselves.”

“E” (Effie)
Kim Doheon (Music Critic): The most common label for electronic musician Effie’s EP “E,” released on March 28, is “K-hyperpop.” As recently as 2021, Effie’s debut album, “Neon Genesis,” leaned closer to hip hop. Since then, she’s moved on to drawing inspiration from pioneers working in the broader electronic hip hop landscape, including experimental hip hop and electroclash, as well as in hyperpop. From shades of Charli xcx’s “Pop” in “forever,” to rapping over noisy trap rhythm a la SOPHIE’s “Immaterial” in “down,” and chaotic vocal samples with a fiery trap drop that takes its sweet time on “maybe baby,” it’s not difficult to point out well-tested musical motifs. But is it really fair to just stuff Effie into a hyperpop box for that?

Music lovers have already declared hyperpop to be dead. Charli xcx’s lime-green party that took the whole world by storm known as “BRAT” served as a final hurrah to the chaotic jumble of boundary-pushing genres that were born in a flurry on the Internet in the 2010s and were subsequently subsumed into the mainstream pop music machine. That mix included the reimagined electronic rock of the UK’s so-called new rave, mainstream pop divas, underground industrial hip hop, and metalcore. Artists in their teens today often reject hyperpop as a label, seeing it as more of a branding effort that only serves to restrict their creative work. When you have artists as diverse as drain gang, twocolors, glaive, Quinn, and ericdoa, it’s impossible to lump them all together with a single term like hyperpop.

Effie and her music are in sync with these young artists escaping the confines of hyperpop. What makes her new album truly special aren’t the hyperpop cliches of the 2010s but the way it’s grounded in a uniquely Korean sense of space and personal identity. Tracks such as “coca-cola,” a love song weaving a 2000s-era K-R&B melody with the latest K-pop trends and classic nursery rhymes, plus “kancho,” which goes beyond merely adopting an East Asian image and specifically uses words like “Taegeukgi” (Korean flag) and “Hangukin” (Korean person), and “put my hoodie on,” an EDM anthem chronicling an indie artist’s survival and dedication to personal growth, are all standout examples.

Domestically, we continue to see amazing work coming out of the hip hop scene, which has had its brushes with hyperpop and which gave birth to the subgenre called rage, as well as electronic singer-songwriters like iiso, The Deep, and NECTA. Rather than being confined to the hyperpop label, these musicians are shining brighter now than ever—a reversal that can be seen clearly in Effie’s latest release.

“Do Not Erase: Mathematicians and Their Chalkboards” (Jessica Wynne)
Kim Boksung (Writer): I’m personally inclined toward anything, be it a book, movie, or otherwise, that can make me interested in a topic I know nothing about, and bonus points if it can make me (however superficially) understand. That’s exactly what I took away from “Do Not Erase: Mathematicians and Their Chalkboards,” photographed and edited by Jessica Wynne, and featuring the words and numbers of numerous clever people.

The phrases “DO NOT ERASE” or “PLEASE LEAVE ON” were frequent fixtures on chalkboards and whiteboards when I was in school, but I never saw anything like what’s depicted in this book. There’s something almost poetic in the notably analog look of the chalkboards here, presented in a book in the age of Zoom classes and ereaders. It’s also oddly satisfying to have this book physically in your lap, running your fingers over the pages as you try to make sense for yourself what’s explained in the text that comes along with them—sometimes successfully, but (at least for me) more often not. But there’s no pressure in “Do Not Erase,” as it’s really more of a nerdy coffee table art book than a math lesson.

There’s also a surprising amount of talk throughout about the tactile sense of chalk and even its smell. For this distinctly non-math major, Wynne’s book has a fantastic ability to impart a strong sense of anemoia. Maybe all the diagrams and figures could even come across as boring to someone more knowledgable in the field, but to someone like me, it’s pure art. And I hope the rest of you, if you pick this up, will feel the same way.