Being a subunit of a larger idol group means being able to pack the main group’s musical characteristics into a subset of itself. Due to the nature of idol pop, some of their tracks and even the albums themselves can at times feel over-the-top or all-encompassing, but sometimes these subunits are used to reinforce concepts that are only used minimally in K-pop and other forms of pop music. By creating a microcosmos out of necessity, the components of the group at large can be extracted and emphasized, their image can be rearranged and simplified and the subunit can distribute that across an album and explore a variety of styles, if done skillfully. So how does all of this look when it comes to Apink? Despite having a relatively high amount of experience compared to other groups, they have never taken much of a hiatus, from the so-called PINK period to their transition phase, they kept on steady without a drop in output. They insist their music reach the same standards of quality as older music and pump out hit after hit focused on both the beautiful innocence of the past and on modernity in the present day (with amazing lead singles produced by Black Eyed Pilseung). Regardless of when, Apink’s shockproof staying power is derived from how well they create around and uphold the conventions of pop music with their distinctive vocals and melodies to match. It’s likely people are already aware that Apink’s essence never fades even when they separate into units, and this is likely thanks to back during the PINK era when BnN—BoMi and NamJoo’s subunit—was releasing R&B tracks and then suddenly covered “Did You Forget?” by H in a style closer to 2000s-era K-pop rap on Two Yoo Project: Sugar Man.

As far as Apink’s steadiness goes, “Copycat” is an immediate standout for the absence of Black Eyed Pilseung, who typically works on Apink’s singles and is responsible for their ppongkki sound, synths and familiar K-pop melodies (the ingredients responsible for the success of “I’m so sick,” “Eung Eung,” “Dumhdurum” and “Dilemma,” but different enough to avoid feeling like copies). What’s odd about the idea of the song’s title referencing a copycat is that its nu-disco style, which has been a major influence on idol pop since the start of the 2020s, places much more emphasis on Western pop than K-pop. Even though the rhythm of their singles started to lean on funky, half-disco-half-house basslines starting from 2018, they kept Black Eyed Pilseung’s electronic sound and melodies up front (a sound also emphasized in STAYC’s songs). Rather than stick to this, “Copycat” is closer to a rearrangement of Apink’s more recent singles but with an emphasis on a firm undercurrent of disco bass riffs.

I could, of course, recite recent songs on the Billboard chart that “Copycat” indirectly references, but I would rather focus on its bridge, where the song suddenly slows down and the simple, repeating groove briefly disappears after the line, “Even if I copy you, I’m breathless / You fell for me.” This technique of a sudden turnaround could always be found in idol pop, but ever since “Next Level” came out last year, it’s been a common trend—one we might call a section collision technique. The unexpected shift in “Copycat” is likely also influenced by this trend, but doesn’t create the same kind of shockwave—quite the opposite, actually. While songs following the trend typically use the jarring contrast between parts (a difference in what sets the listener in a groove at first and the vastly different input they receive immediately afterward) to send the song in an unexpected direction, the repeating disco groove in “Copycat” drops out and the melody briefly switches from disco pop—not a typical Apink sound—to the K-pop world and its familiar melodies. This is all to say that “Copycat” is essentially a study of what makes an Apink track categorically Apink: a combination of dense electronica, a subtle groove and a pop melody. The entire organized structure of richly layered dance pop is rearranged: First they remove the dense electronic parts, bringing out the funky disco/house rhythm that forms the framework of the song, and then the groove is pulled out as well, revealing the essentials of the song like an x-ray.

“Oscar,” on the other hand, recounts a fictional tale of revenge and distributes their focus to explore a sound slightly removed from Apink’s characteristic flavor. The sound of windshield wipers and synths intermingling, the girls’ fluctuating vocals stopping in their tracks, the voice effects that make them sound like they’re mumbling incantations, the rapid transition between sections of the song: all of these details are closer to the simple pleasures of typical idol pop. These little details are in a tug-of-war with the kind of groove that this track and “Copycat” share, but what takes center stage here is the chilliness of the high-strung guitar riffs and deep synths and the way the melody switches between upbeat and downright strange. The chorus repeats one last time, then the plentiful synths and a sound like flickering street lights push the song to its last breath, like movie credits slowly starting to roll. The mechanical sound of windshield wipers from the opening returns as the movie comes to a close. The tension here comes from the wipers and synths overlapping—a sort of double reversal. Flashes of tension are sprinkled throughout the song, giving clues to the lyrics with lines like, “Your universe, which is a bit lame.” Yet the track brazenly continues its unique theme of “pretending not to be versus pretending not to know'' as if the song were a trendy disco song inside and out (“It’s my Oscar”). Some older Apink songs, like “Kok Kok,” “What are you doing?,” “I Like That Kiss” and “Single Rider,” emphasize synthetic electronic sounds that brush up against each other. Similarly, “Oscar'' explores, through distribution,  its own role in addition to the same kind of minimalist groove it shares with “Copycat.”

Looking at CHOBOM as a subunit, “Copycat” rearranges Apink’s formula in a simple and clear way, “Oscar” distributes its focus to exploring a very different sound and narrative and “Feel Something” extracts different characteristics from Apink. But this has less to do with this short track’s synths and particular beat and more to do with the powerful vocals—both from BoMi, who nails every key moment of the song, and ChoRong, who adds a delicate tenderness to every part of the song including the rap. While the other subunits of Apink exemplify how the larger group is organized to avoid forcing a sense of uniformity without exaggerating the differences between the members of the smaller, simpler groups, the two members of CHOBOM keep an adequate distance from each other while being copycats of one another—that is, examining and learning from one another—at the same time. Bearing in mind that BoMi already has experience singing as a duet with NamJoo, the beauty of the duet here is revealed in lines like, “We become more and more like each other / Becoming something you can’t escape,” and, “You and I moving together from the start.” In other words, while the pair of vocals are always clearly distinguishable, what makes the duet so beautiful is how they make for an impressive subunit despite taking steps to maintain the inevitable discord between their tones. “Feel Something” builds its multi-layered soundscape by stacking the chorus like a choir of just two. “Copycat” is a love song, and “Oscar” a revenge song, and both feed off the interplay between the two singers’ contrasting forces, whereas “Feel Something” comes across as two separate tracks rather than an interconnected unit, while at the same time hinting at what makes this pair a duo and a subunit within a larger group. Whether showing off their beauty with string arrangements paired against a classic new jack swing beat or combining the universal power of melody with the conventional pathos found in pop songs, Apink has always been superb when it comes to maintaining a sense of balance between the different vocals that all the members possess. This is the secret behind their career of unprecedented consistency and unwavering spirit which has continued on for 11 years, but they continuously evolved like it was nothing. Although they naturally appear both similar and different as they meet each other halfway, CHOBOM sufficiently portray themselves as two individuals within one unit: “What if it’s a rough line / I’m good with it and that’s okay / One and only real of me.”