On the 8th, I attended a concert at Penn Live Arts, a venue so embedded in the University of Pennsylvania I waited in the VIP line next to a bustling study spot. It’s a small black box theatre with a capacity of just under 1,000, so the experience felt intimate in the way small K-pop concerts always are: my sister and I chatted with the people in line, were given ‘freebies’, and someone played music for us all to dance to. While we waited for Purple Kiss to begin their pre-show activities, just waiting reminded me why I love this genre of music, the people who listen, and those who make it.
For those who don’t know, Purple Kiss is an all-female sextet under RBW, a Korean entertainment company specializing in singers, groups, and actors. Like many K-pop groups, Purple Kiss doesn’t specialize in one specific sound, but their songs include beautiful instrumentals, inventive choreography held up by Ireh and Dosie, Swan and Goeun’s clear vocals, and Chaein and Yuki’s sassy raps. Some of the K-pop groups under RBW, such as Mamamoo, Oneus, and Young Posse, are more lucrative than Purple Kiss, though their talent cannot go unnoticed. Some of my favorite songs of theirs—“Nerdy”, “BBB”, and “memeM”—are far too good for their careers to end after only five years.
They announced their disbandment in August with no explanation as to why, which is common practice due to NDAs and detailed contracts, but gave plenty of time until they were gone for good. Before their US tour spanning the entirety of October, they travelled across Japan, and will host one last South Korean concert in November. Within a month, Purple Kiss will no longer produce music as a group, but you never know what the members will do next. Some theorize all six will move to a different company to continue activities. Some believe they’ll be separated and either join new groups or become soloists. Pessimists wonder if we’ll ever hear from them again.
I choose to be optimistic. Based on the progression of their disbandment, I have high hopes wherever the members end up will be of their choosing, which is more important than what fans want. In most cases, small K-pop groups are not so lucky: very few have a farewell tour to give their final goodbyes.
There’s a superstition in the K-pop fandom called the “7-year curse”. Because contracts between artists and their companies span at most seven years, many groups disband after that deadline to pursue solo careers, escape toxic work environments, or because money has run dry. When acts fall victim to this curse, oftentimes their disbandment goes unreported. Many groups across the years have died quietly, leaving fans questioning the fates of their favorite singers, dancers, and rappers.
This curse affects more groups than one can count, especially ones under small agencies with less economic wiggle-room. However, instead of leaving the world guessing, Purple Kiss released “OUR NOW”, an album composed of English versions of their most popular songs, alongside two new titles, all of which they performed at my concert.
Despite everything, the members seemed happy. My sister and I had wonderful interactions with all six, and they spoke and joked with the crowd throughout the night. For a group so close to disbandment, I’d understand if the mood were somber or angry, but their smiles made the room that much lighter. Dosie, during a quiet moment, told the crowd she hopes the memories of this performance lives on even when the show ends, and I cried because I hoped they would, too. When she noticed how emotional we all got, she elaborated that she didn’t mean to be melancholic; she just wanted us all to have a fun time. They never once mentioned disbandment specifically. We all knew this would be their last time in Philadelphia, so why bring it up and elicit unnecessary sadness?
This is how it should happen every time a group disbands. Many K-pop groups are announced and never debuted, some release an album or two and delete all their social media accounts on a random Wednesday, and some idols have been spotted working part-time jobs with confusion as to if they’re even performing anymore. In the worst case I’ve seen, Be The Next 9 Dreamers, a competition show which produced a final lineup of the top contestants, ran out of money and their company fled the country, leaving the group out of contact indefinitely. What happened to those to-be idols? We’ll never know.
Unlike other secretive disbandments, Purple Kiss’ is a sign of new beginnings and, hopefully, exactly what each of the members want for their careers going forward. Although I’d love to see Purple Kiss perform and release music for more time than what they were given, I will continue to root for them in whatever endeavors they accomplish, together or otherwise. Because, in the K-pop industry, the best you can hope for is idols following their dreams with as few hiccups as possible.