It’s already been more than a decade since Aimyon first emerged as the new savior of J-pop. Our modern world is accelerating by the day, and yet the singer has positioned herself as a haven for audiences by enriching the very essence of music with the sheer variety of her work. Her very first song, “Anata Kaibou Jun’aika Shine,” a refreshingly shocking song released before she had signed with a major label and with which she cast love in a ruthless light, retrospectively feels like the reckless impulses of youth. “Ikiteitandayona,” meanwhile, is a direct reflection of her feelings after hearing about someone taking their own life in the news. From her breakthrough hit “Marigold” to the midtempo ballad “Naked Heart” that made her an unforgettable name, and her warm and welcoming new song “Sketch,” her decade-long journey is one defined by the belief that the most personal is the most universal, creating a unique artistic world built on everyday emotions in her own words and stylistic sound.

With “Jealous of Cats,” Aimyon’s latest album, her skill for weaving multiple stories together around the ordinary and the universal comes to full bloom. The release feels like a novel, organically connecting tracks written during different periods and exploring numerous perspectives on love that pull at the heartstrings. Also running prominently throughout the album is an overarching theme of embracing your own fragility. Key tracks include the grandly orchestrated “I Don’t Like Mornings,” which is about enduring hardship until a hopeful new dawn breaks, and “rhythm 64,” a song that’s both calm and upbeat and that paints life as a journey where delight can be found even in wandering.

The more music she releases, the harder it becomes to categorize Aimyon’s discography under any particular genre. While maintaining her core identity as a singer-songwriter armed with a guitar, she absorbs elements of different genres like a sponge and passes fluidly through genre boundaries, and at the heart of that fluidity lies her focus on the essentials of lyrics and melody. Her extremely restrained arrangements, clear vocals, and the resulting aesthetic margins they leave around the edges give the listener’s interpretation room to breathe.

Those who attended her concert “Dolphin Apartment in Seoul” on April 19 and 20 experienced firsthand all that which makes Aimyon so undeniably amazing. And fans in Korea had waited a long, long time for the experience. Her song “Ai Wo Tsutaetaidatoka” was arguably one of the hits that ignited the recent resurgence in the popularity of Japanese music in Korea in recent years, and it’d be hard to find anyone saying otherwise. And with a universal appeal that’s anything but fleeting and transcends borders and generations, her music’s spread via short videos and YouTube, introducing J-pop to a whole new group of people.

In Aimyon’s case, what could’ve been a flash in the pan grew into a dedicated fanbase thanks to her burgeoning repertoire. Her themes of the anxieties and helplessness of youth, and lyrics about societal pressure, resonate with listeners in both Japan and Korea. Aimyon fills the holes those issues leave with words of sincerity, which may very well be the reason why her music has become a voice for a generation in both countries. Around 16,000 fans showed up to KINTEX, the large convention hall where she held her concert over the course of two days, to cheer the singer on enthusiastically as a way of saying thanks for all the solace she’s brought them.

Whether there for the thrill of the opening night or the bittersweet closing Sunday, everyone in the audience looked like they were vigilantly hanging onto every moment to cherish in their memories and in their hearts. The concert opened with a sweep of blue lasers overhead, living up to the name by giving the venue the ambience of an underwater show. The awesome power of Aimyon’s voice ringing out as she broke into “Douse Shinu Nara” confirmed that it was finally really happening: Aimyon was here. I was particularly struck by her decision to change the order up from her Japanese tour set list, where she opens with “rhythm 64.” It felt like a conscious decision to open her very first show in Korean with a bang.

She sang “Lucky Color,” walking out to the very edge of the stage to be with her Korean audience, then moved right into “Marigold,” making it clear she was looking to create a lot of momentum right from the outset. Hearing this signature song that early in the show moved the crowd to break immediately into song, arms waving in the air. The opening guitar was even more vivid and dynamic live—the kind of exclusive experience you only get at a concert. With emotions already running high, I knew the concert was going to feel like it passed by in a blur.

After performing the three songs back to back, Aimyon spoke to her audience, unexpectedly breaking out into perfect Korean: “Jal butakdeurimnida!” It turns out she had secretly been learning Korean for a year, going so far as to keep even her staff in the dark. It was already admirable of her that she was thoughtful enough to have her words translated on the screen behind her when speaking Japanese, but the way she spoke in Korean throughout most of the concert was truly amazing. You could even feel her desire to connect with her international fans when, on the giant screen showing the artist and the crowd with dolphins floating over their heads, hand-drawn images of Korean food, like kimbap and so-tteok-so-tteok, also appeared.

The dynamic, percussion-heavy “Futari No Sekai” soared with a deafening singalong that Aimyon herself couldn’t have anticipated, while the singer’s passion came through in amped-up rock versions of “Marshmallow” and “Firely Tuesday” that stood out from the studio recordings. Aimyon’s clear, strong vocals were in perfect form for “Matryoshka,” and combined with the explosive interlude guitar solo made for an unforgettable live performance that was truly the peak of the first part of the concert.

Next up was an intimate series of songs performed on acoustic guitar—another perk of coming for the live show. “Harunohi” and “ai no hana,” with a touch of the pastoral through steel guitar, tapped directly into the vein of emotion through pure simplicity. Particularly delightful was the surprise inclusion of “Fake Me,” which isn’t on the set list for her tour in Japan and which she performed alone on guitar. The singer then switched things up with the catchy rhythm of “Show Me All You Got” as a camera-equipped drone flew between her legs. Next came the heavy beat of “Ai Wo Tsutaetaidatoka,” one of Korean fans’ favorites and one emblematic of the country’s recent reappraisal of Japanese music. With that, the concert was slowly heading toward its climax.

Aimyon began to bring the night to a close with none other than “Kimi Wa Rock Wo Kikanai.” The fans sang along with even more passion in an apparent bid to delay the end coming as long as possible. Things accelerated through “Ring Ding” and only moved faster with “Dream Chaser Bengal.” It suddenly felt like she was playing a festival set, not unlike her performance at SPACE SHOWER SWEET LOVE SHOWER 2023. To show things weren’t over quite yet, she kicked things into perfectly beautiful cruelty territory with “Anata Kaibou Jun’aika Shine,” deviating from her Japanese concerts by throwing in “Ikiteitandayona” and keeping her audience absolutely entranced.

“Naked Heart” signaled the coming end as our heightened emotions slowly came back down to Earth and Aimyon poured all her gratitude into her last moments onstage, with “Aoi” standing in for ending credits. The lyrics “Goodbye, shadow of the boy from someday / Until we meet again, I’ll say I’m back then” and the melody paired with them were a perfect mix of sad-to-see-you-go and deep affection with a side of see-you-soon. Aimyon played 23 songs over the course of two and a half hours. Each made for its own memory and gave us the courage to face reality anew. And it was all possible thanks to the unique power of Aimyon’s music.

Despite the minimalistic stage setting, there was something about Aimyon’s concert that stirred up deep, hidden emotions. The way she stripped everything down to its bare essence, to a small selection of instruments and a handful of heartfelt words, reminded everyone there why we love her. Nothing highlights how good she is at communicating quite like her live shows. Instead of talking to the audience about herself, she engaged with the crowd—asking where they’re from, using binoculars to study their expressions, and asking them to sing along to “Dream Chaser Bengal” in Korean, strengthening the bond between them by reinforcing her approachable attitude that says we’re all human.

I’m starting the think that the way she embraces her role as a mainstream singer rather than claiming to be an artist gives her the kind of appeal that ensures that no one can be satisfied with seeing just a single concert from her. I saw how much importance she placed on interacting with the crowd when she performed in Shizuoka last year, and I wondered how she would overcome the language barrier abroad. After her KINTEX concert, I realized how seriously I had underestimated Aimyon’s dedication. Moreover, at a time when pop music is dominated by grandiose performances, her concert was a clear testament to the pure essence of music. By eschewing trends while simultaneously harnessing the zeitgeist and emotional core of today, Aimyon shows us how to achieve the ultimate goals of pop music. She’s more than just a talented musician—she’s a singer-songwriter who inspires us to question how we live. And perhaps, when she’s here by our side, life feels just a little easier.