It’s strange that there’s people in the world who don’t know how important a symbol Seo Taiji is. Anyone who was around when he was identified with all things youthful and nicknamed the president of culture would feel the same way. Seo Taiji and Boys gave the world their eponymous first album on March 23, 1992, but what they gave us was more than simply a collection of pop songs. Attempts to categorize the album into existing genres or find similarities between its songs and others evaporated against how hot this cultural blast furnace of an album was. From music the older generations couldn’t understand and lyrics only the young could relate to, to a rebellious history of dropping out of high school to get his start with heavy metal band Sinawe as their bassist, everything about him drew a dividing line between past and present.

In the ’90s, the name Seo Taiji was more than just the name of a musician—it was a label representing a new generation and the new era. But with so many writers wanting to place his name at the center of discourse, and conversation often surrounding the famously zealous support of his fans—sometimes referred to as the origins of the K-pop fandom—talk of his music itself disappears under the hubbub from time to time. A tribute performance for Seo Taeji is on the schedule for 2022 Weverse Con [New Era], which takes place on the 31st; as such, here are six songs, selected from among the four albums he’s released under the group Seo Taeji and Boys and the five he’s released solo, that best represent the sentiment and style of his music.

“Anyhow Song” by Seo Taiji and Boys (Seo Taiji and Boys II, 1993)

“Anyhow Song” was, in a word, wild. While “I Know” off the first album told people what the boys were like, “Anyhow” issued the bold statement that they’d come to take over the world. Although “I Know” familiarized people with a piece of culture which Seo Taiji called “rap dance,” it nevertheless retained a modicum of recognizability by sticking with the established grammar of pop music. “Anyhow,” though, was feisty right out of the gate. Amidst the confusion of the weighty guitar riffs, scratching and Kim Jong Seo’s cathartic shouting was a breathless rap with a unique flow—the words to which listeners couldn’t possibly figure out in one listen. Considering how easily he moved between genres, it seems natural at first glance, but Seo Taeji’s ridiculously fresh vocals and the performance full of hip hop dance seem rather incongruous compared to the other elements of the song, which even briefly features a traditional instrument known as a taepyeongso. It’s no exaggeration to say that this one song opened up the door to a new dimension. It was what we would these days call K-pop.

“Come Back Home” by Seo Taiji and Boys (Seo Taiji and Boys IV, 1995)

Looking back now, the massive resonance that Seo Taiji’s music had in the 1990s caused waves that were in no way easy to stand up against—not only for those who listened to his music, but for the artist himself as well. He crafted an image of himself right from his debut as the voice of a generation and shaped that image in more specific ways throughout his albums, with themes ranging from criticism of the education culture in Korea (“Classroom Idea”) and a longing for reunification (“Dreaming of Bal-Hae”). His image as a singer who breathes the very era he’s a part of was built up slowly over time and reached its peak with the fourth album’s lead single, “Come Back Home.” The song was an incredible hit—a heartwarming story circulated that one runaway teenager, after hearing the song, finally returned home—but it was also around this time that Seo Taiji’s music began to be looked at as more of a social platform than one of music. When “Come Back Home” was released, in addition to his now legendary social influence, Seo Taiji’s influence as a style icon was burgeoning at the same time. With a fashion sense as diverse as his music was album-to-album, he made headlines while promoting the group’s fourth album for adopting a hip hop spin on snowboarder fashion, which had just hit the country. It’s no exaggeration to say  that he was responsible for how quickly Koreans picked up snowboarding culture after that.

“My Everything” by Seo Taiji and Boys (Seo Taiji and Boys, 1992)

It’s oftentimes difficult to describe the essence of Seo Taiji’s music in one word, especially when it comes to genre. From his days with the group to when he went ahead as a solo artist, Seo Taiji has been the kind of musician who dabbles in such a diversity of genres that it’s almost as though he’s collecting them. In that case, why don’t we try talking about the emotional aspect instead? The true source of his often-overlooked musical talent lies in his uniquely lyrical sensibilities and good ear for melodies. Even above his signature ballad “To You,” a song still beloved to this day, and “Good Bye,” a track that left listeners predicting the group’s demise, I’d place “My Everything” at the top of my personal list. Seo Taiji sings throughout with a soft voice, followed by the Boys rapping, after which someone calls out for “guitar!” and a solo pours out like a waterfall. The catharsis that arises from such dramatic production value is also a perfect display of some of the characteristics of Korean popular music—sometimes said to be excessive—that made way for K-pop as we know it today. Once you pull back the flashy drapes of Seo Taiji’s name, this is what you’ll find at his very core.

“Our Own Memories” by Seo Taiji and Boys (Seo Taiji and Boys II, 1993)

Seo Taiji sings the songs he writes himself. The mark of a good singer-songwriter is their ability to know the strengths and limitations of their own voice inside and out, and Seo Taiji shows a clear understanding of himself in that regard. We already mentioned his gift for melody; evidently, Seo Taiji knows what kind of melodies and emotions he’s best able to express within the range of his voice. With its higher, finer, clearer tone than that belonging to the average male vocalist, his voice stands out best against a simple melody—regardless of his aspirations. That’s why “Our Own Memories”—memories he could never conceive letting go of, of the precious time spent with his fans—shines so bright.

“Take Five” by Seo Taiji (Seo Tai Ji, 1998)

Seo Taiji’s post-Boys work could be summed up as him doing whatever he feels like. Even when he was part of a group, he was famous for cutting himself off from the world when he was working on music, and he burrowed even deeper into his own world once going solo. Seo Taiji’s first solo album and all its tracks were essentially untitled: The album is simply his name, and each track is labeled a “Take” followed by a number. “Take Two” is a song with a slow groove that features wholly abstract lyrics centered around the word “TV” and was pushed as the lead single, but it was “Take Five” and its intuitive take on freedom that found more popularity. Listeners can infer from the song what kind of life he was looking to have after Seo Taiji and the Boys split ways.

“Moai” by Seo Taiji (Seotaiji 8th Atomos, 2009)

Seo Taiji continued doing things his own way, and although the time between albums gradually widened, he released a steady supply of new songs, including “Ultramania” in 2000 and “Robot” in 2004. But eventually, he faced a crossroads. We see the artist attempting to return to the world with the song “Moai” after a period of progressively distancing himself from it with music and projects that had become increasingly erratic compared to his time with the group. At the time, he appeared in a silly TV commercial for a mobile phone, where then child actor Shim Eun Kyung looks at him and nonchalantly asks, “Who are you, though?” The ad helped him to shed his previously serious image, and “Moai” did the same. The song also captures that mysterious feeling that comes from Seo Taiji’s voice when he’s at his happiest singing about freedom to a very brisk beat.