Being a 2020-born ARMY, my first introduction to j-hope was through Outro : Ego, the final track on Map of the Soul: 7. It is a fitting conclusion to the entire album and to BTS’ journey of 7 years. It boggled me a little to see the word ‘ego’ made so understandable and uncomplicated. It came in just as the world was upturned by the Covid-19 pandemic. As I have consumed and been consumed by BTS, Outro : Ego stands out even more remarkably as a sense of closure to j-hope’s trajectory as an artist and a member of the group. It makes me believe that only he, Jung Hoseok a.k.a. j-hope could have written it in this way.
HYYH was a massive breakthrough on the world’s stage for BTS. The seven boys were owning their names, their bodies, their talent and their voices completely, addressing experiences so much closer home, relatable to young and old. This is where I locate the beginnings of j-hope’s embodiment of his stage name. Intro: Boy Meets Evil, the starting point of the album Wings, is a reckoning with the consuming feeling of love. His dance thrillingly captures that sense of addiction as it eats you up inside. This love could be a metaphor for any person, thing or entity, that is “too bad, but it’s too sweet” to resist. In the initial weeks of becoming ARMY, I questioned my affinity to BTS in a similar manner. Their content was so attractive and engrossing, and everything else felt irrelevant and a waste of time. I felt insatiable, hungrily devouring everything there was to devour. It felt like just doing this would solve everything — the feelings of loss, pain and even the pandemic.
In the same album, j-hope released a heartfelt ode to his mother, MAMA. The whole album is an acknowledgement of history, of the places each member came from, a reflection on the experiences that shaped them into the artists they are. At the age of 22, as he looks back on his journey as a dancer and then as a member of BTS, j-hope feels indebted to his mother’s sacrifices. There is pain in the lyrics, but rhythm and dance in the music, like a church choir giving hope. At first it didn’t add up — how was the music so upbeat amidst much sorrow and regret? Diving deeper into other content by them gave me perspective on j-hope and the path he had chosen for himself , i.e. to be someone’s hope. In my mind this hope is a lot like a resource, that is shared, but also needs replenishing. How is that possible when there is so much sorrow and strife lingering on from the past?
Two years after Wings, j-hope released his mixtape, a project that he claimed took him about two years. I believe that by then he knew exactly what his purpose and role as an artist was, and what being someone’s hope meant for him. Slightly different from Suga’s and RM’s mixtapes, where they assert their beliefs or shed light on some truths of the world, j-hope’s mixtape seems like it is intended to be a felt experience. It is interactive and a direct invitation to meet this man, offering you a peek into his life and his mission of hope. That life isn’t necessarily all happy, but it’s still his life.
Hope World opens with an immediate dive into the waters of his world, and listeners are taken on a ride with j-hope. What strikes me is the explication that his hope isn’t an innocent, romanticized empty illusion, but very strongly connected to his past while anticipating a future of possibilities. It is about knowing who he is today and making the choice to move forward with hope. Daydream is a similar acknowledgement of how the present isn’t free from constraints and responsibilities, and how much he wishes to paint a different canvas in life. But his songs aren’t angry or hurt. In Time magazine’s interview, he said that he wanted to make sure it did not feel heavy and despondent. It is an attitude of acceptance chosen towards life to not regret his choice to be an artist and public figure: I daydream because/knowing it can’t become reality.
So there is the invitation and the dream of a different life, and then there is his rap, his talent, his reality. Base Line is a comparatively more emphatic composition, declaring his worth as a rap artist, undeniably hardworking and sincere in his passion towards his art. HANGSANG is a laidback, almost arrogant drawl on BTS’ accomplishments and status, that they achieved by trusting themselves and ignoring the haters. Not very familiar with the rap genre, these feel more like the sort of rap I am used to — bold, confident, indifferent, and assertive.
Airplane and Blue Side (Outro) evoke something different. They are mellow and warm. Airplane is more self-referential and reflective, as if he has only just realised that what used to be simply a child’s vision, an idea, is now a frequent occurrence, with perks like “airplane mode” and “champagne”. Blue Side (Outro) makes me wonder who he is talking to — us, himself, or his past? It transports me into the realm of blue (the sky or the sea), where time has stopped briefly, and I am suddenly more aware of myself.
Finally Piece of Peace (P. O. P.) Pt.1 speaks directly to you, and as doyoubangtan describes it, he enters your world this time. He is connecting with your struggle, because he has been there too. He has felt the hopelessness of unemployment, of chasing ones dreams, of never having a level playing field. He wants to offer the most meagre sliver of hope if he can, hope that doesn’t immediately declare that everything will be fine, but that understands and empathises, and meets you in your despair. I love the addition of ‘Pt. 1’ to the name. In his Vlive after the release of his mixtape, he said that this was a conversation he wanted to keep having. Hope is a fickle thing — it can delude you, confuse you, or strengthen you, or any combination of the three. What sort of and how much hope is needed to sustain ourselves, to make the future less scary and more attainable? j-hope is saying that this song is only the first step, among many more steps lying ahead, some yet to be understood, some yet to be discovered. Just the willingness to enter into this conversation again and again gives me hope, as if he is saying: I’ll try again!
The diversity of his music is undeniable — he can do all of it, from the aggressive irreverent assertions, to the upbeat, bouncy celebrations, to reflective, sombre musings. What stands out is the play of the music with the lyrics, one balancing the other. While the lyrics of Daydream betray pangs of sadness, the splashes of colour in the video, the groove in his dance and the claps in the music keep an upbeat vibe going. Similarly Airplane has a touching retributive feel — his dream came true, he made it big — yet the music has a doleful gravity. It can be seen as a psychic splitting of the good and bad within. Or as creative ingenuity in bringing parts of himself together: the joy and the despondency, the dark and the light, as simultaneously occurring all the time. There is always some pain in gain. And it is characteristic of j-hope through and through, in all thought and action!
Just a few months after his mixtape came the third and last album of the LY series, Love Yourself: Answer. The album is a resolution of what loving oneself means, and for j-hope it is infused in his identity as a dancer (Trivia起: Just Dance). Now that this is well established, and we know and understand j-hope holding this position in the group, we can turn our attention to Outro: Ego.
The song opens with the sampling of Intro: 2 Cool 4 Skool fast forwarding within seconds to j-hope today. The moment the memories of the past become distant, the moment he feels invested in his present looking towards his future, he is pulled back to where it all started much like a fast rewind. What is this pull from the past? The memories of Jung Hoseok fill his mind, and he can recall the sacrifices and the struggles. He calls it the ‘touch of the devil’ and ‘fate’s recall’, and there’s no avoiding the pull. However, by putting oneself again in that moment in time, one forgets that one is placing the ‘me’ of today in a place where it didn’t exist. I wasn’t the me I am today that I was then, who made those choices and took on that path. Those choices while freely chosen have today become my fate: they have become me.
But Jung Hoseok is also his reality, albeit a bigger reality of his past. All those memories of success and struggle, experiences that filled and depleted him, are also his own. j-hope reminds us that the moment we try to disengage from our past, we are fated to recall all of it— our past never really leaves us. How do you want to live your life now — full of doubt and lacking commitment, or with determination and sincerity in whatever you have taken on? One can never know what the future holds, but trusting yourself and keeping the people you trust close will make the journey worth it.
This balance between past and present, between yesterday, today and tomorrow, between doing and being is for me evident in all of j-hope’s work. He may talk about global issues and have opinions, but he continuously reminds you that this is j-hope talking. It is difficult to disengage the artist from his art, and perceive the art alone for its splendour and thrill. j-hope is evident in all his art, consistently engaged and growing, both at one and separate from it. And therefore, only j-hope, so acutely aware of his process as it unfurls, could have written a piece like Outro: Ego.
Soon after MOTS: 7, we were all plunged into the uncertainties of the pandemic. Cancelled shows, social distancing, and life looking like nothing we had ever experienced, everything that the band stood for for the last seven years was rendered impossible. Dis-ease must have meant so much to j-hope, an absolute baller of a composition, beginning straight from its very title. The sense of discomfort with the times, with our spaces and our bodies has been powerfully captured in the lyrics of the song. j-hope’s verse, for the first time since Outro: Ego, captures the instability of knowing oneself. His ego is suddenly thrown off-balance, as he wonders what ‘work’ and ‘time’ mean in the pandemic. And yet, his recognition of the change in the form of Dis-ease is important — the pandemic has been a forced pause, to recalibrate and restart.
In his interview at the end of Bon Voyage 4, j-hope says that he was always thinking about whether he was doing enough for the members, whether he had been able to be there enough for them. In the pandemic series, BTS In The Soop, it struck me that he was actively taking initiative to connect with each member in some way. It was endearing to see him strike up conversations and engage with the members, inviting them for activities to do with him. I felt like he is the link between all of them, balancing responsibility with playfulness, vocals with rap, impulse with restraint, id with superego — he is the ego.
I am only a few months into ARMY-dom, and for the more veteran ARMY, there may be gaps in my interpretations and reasoning. I still have so much more content to go through, and I can anticipate throwing away this entire essay when I discover something that completely demolishes my thesis. But for now, as we move from the winter of Covid-19 into the spring of healing and new beginnings, I see j-hope as my hope, an ego that I connect with and hope to be, and wish even the tiniest glimmer of hope for him.
For lyric translations, I would like to thank:
