Song Review:: Ilhoon (BTOB): Lullaby

• Release date: 2024 November 21

• Album tracklist: Lullaby, Lullaby - Inst.

• Album runtime: 5 minutes

 Before anyone gets grumpy, if I know a solo artist is or was in a group, I include it, even if they haven't been with the group in years and even if the group is disbanded, unless I know that it was a bad break-up (like the case with Stray Kids). I'll respect the group's feelings and follow their lead. But given that I know at least one of the members liked the announcement post on Instagram, that clearly isn't exactly the case. So, until one of the members tells me to change it, I'm going to follow my pattern. 

Messy administrative details out of the way, ILHOON IS BACK, BABY! Five years. Most of those years were, to use his words, a time of healing for him. He seems happy. He seems smiley. He seems healthy. That's all I can ask for. And I think I was trying to stay up until the release, but I forced myself to go to sleep because I need it today specifically.

And right now he may be one of the few people that can have that time rounded up and not have me thoroughly disappointed. I'm well aware he's getting a pass. I'm not sure what kind of pass he's getting from me, or how long it will last. But for his return, I'm just happy to get 2:20 from him at all.

And as a side note, that album artwork is so gorgeous. Wow.

Bless him for including the instrumentals. The house trap beat injects a touch of energy and cheer to the muted, underwater accompaniment behind much of the rest of the song, which becomes the only keeping holding the sadness of the rest of the song at bay. I'll have to wait to find out if he had his fingers in the instrumentals as well as the lyrics, but this vibes like an auteur film. Genuinely, if I didn't have to start getting ready for work in an hour, I'd be trying to sleep to the instrumentals, which are still trying to put me to sleep as I'm actively writing this. It's impressive, really, the amount of soothing the song is, because the beat is just repetitive and consistent enough that that helps the underwater parts lull the listener. 

I've been hearing a lot of rap, most of it not by choice as nearly all, if not all, K-Pop groups have at least one rapper. Some have half the group rapping. There aren't a lot of other idol rappers who do it like him, and even within BTOB, he's got a unique sound and sense of rhythm, which he puts on full display here. The only reason I know his melodic rap is a rap instead of simply singing is in fact the rhythm and the way he flattens his voice during the rap sections. He does sing a little in this, mostly during the chorus, though he also switched during the refrain. And I find it a little adorable how much attention Minnesota of all places is getting right now. First was Jin with his sweatshirt. And now Ilhoon using how cold it is for a simile. So apparently, shout-out to Minnesota, which I can't say without saying it with their accent. Looking at the translation, if I wasn't aware of the song's backstory, I'd be deeply concerned and very worried. I still worry about him, but the way he talks about the last couple of years implies to me that this is more on the side of "working through feelings" rather than "cry for help." Still, my heart breaks for the man. His own poor choices and bad luck aside, anything that could make someone sing about "I don't wanna go back to the days when I had to suffer" could be read as either relief that he's moved past it, or evidence of the current struggle. Or both. 

Well, if this isn't a horribly depressing music video, I don't know what is. It actually reminds me a lot of the  music video for Not Okay by ATEEZ. Normally this would be the time to ask "Who hurt him?" But I think I already have at least part of the answer to the question. It astonishingly well-made for how short it is. It also reminds me quite a lot of IT by Stephen King, by way of the floating, which is literally about fears and nightmares. 

Ilhoon's return came not with an abrupt energetic eruption, but rather with a quiet whisper of a song, something that could stand in the corner, unremarked upon if it so chooses, and soft enough that you have to come close to hear it. And my heart just breaks for him if even a fraction of the truth of the song is autobiographical.