The Reincarnated Idol Hard Carries an Indie Band - Chapter 5

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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A Former Idol Does Hard Carry for an Indie Band
Chapter 5
Rendezvous, a Punk Rock track, was the first song I’d ever composed for the band.
But it wasn’t something I’d made alone.
After writing the rough draft—barely more than a sketch—I’d refined it by gathering input from the other members.
We all shared a love of rock, though our preferred subgenres varied.
Synthesizing everyone’s opinions was no easy task. We fought plenty, and I’ve lost count of how many revisions we made.
That said, it wasn’t exactly a masterpiece in terms of absolute quality.
The concept ran deep, but we lacked the technical skill to realize it fully back then.
But now things are different.
‘With where I am now, couldn’t I really do this song justice?’
I realized I needed an objective approach to find out.
I dredged up memories from the past and began layering in Sessions as close as I could get to the original version of Rendezvous.
Reproducing it perfectly would’ve been impossible, but I could get close.
Hearing that familiar music again after so long, I found myself smiling without meaning to.
It reeked of amateurism, but underneath it all lay nostalgia.
Truth be told, some of it was embarrassing nostalgia.
Rendezvous was Punk Rock because back then, we’d wanted to stand against mainstream commercial music.
Pop and idol songs were trending, hip-hop was sweeping through South Korea, yet we stubbornly clung to rock—and we thought that was cool.
I’d thought idols were pretty dolls mindlessly singing whatever their agencies chose for them, and I’d written off hip-hop as music for the tone-deaf.
Of course, I know now how embarrassing those thoughts were.
Music ultimately needs someone to listen to it.
Considering a listener’s taste isn’t just practical—it’s noble.
So back then, we were wrong.
That’s why I wanted to use this song to convince the members.
Good songs carry power.
With that in mind, I dove into Arrangement work on the original.
I started transforming Rendezvous—which had been overflowing with past amateurism and niche prejudices—into something people would actually enjoy.
I brought the tempo down to Medium, replaced excessive flourishes with rhythmic patterns that had coherent continuity.
I reduced the overall presence of the melodic guitar and arranged it so certain parts stood out unmistakably.
If the melodic guitar ran wild for too long, the song would become difficult and lose mass appeal.
But I left the Chorus largely untouched.
I wasn’t trying to make it completely Pop.
I considered changing the guitar tone too, but that felt like it would compromise Rendezvous’s identity, so I left it as was.
When I stepped back and listened, that Punk Rock song had transformed into a Medium-tempo Pop Rock or Pop Punk piece.
“Hmm…….”
Eighty points? Ninety-five with nostalgia glasses on?
Either way, I was quite pleased with it.
* * *
Jo Hyun-seop, the owner of ST Studio, runs the studio now, but he was once a hugely renowned producer.
Before the genre K-pop even had a name, he’d attempted idol groups after finding inspiration in Japan.
But that was ancient history. He’d been running ST Studio alone for over fifteen years now.
So when Jang Deok-chul from String’s Echo contacted Jo Hyun-seop yesterday, it was with considerable fanfare.
Some high school student named Cha Seo-ha, a remarkably talented instrumentalist, would be coming in to record tomorrow.
-He’s recording an original composition. Just take a listen and let me know what you think. He says he’s actually better at Composition than he is at guitar, but honestly, I can’t imagine him being better at anything than he is at guitar.
Jo Hyun-seop’s feelings were mixed.
Half curiosity, half skepticism.
If Jang Deok-chul noticed him, he’d have to have a solid foundation at least. But would a high school student really be that remarkable?
A high schooler?
And also good at Composition?
So he stopped by the studio to coincide with Cha Seo-ha’s reserved time.
“Is Cha Seo-ha here?”
Park Min-ji, the part-time staff member, answered Jo Hyun-seop’s question.
“Yes.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s handsome and has good proportions. Just like an idol.”
“An idol?”
“No, I don’t think so. Maybe a trainee? His signature is really elegant.”
“Is that so?”
Jo Hyun-seop tilted his head.
So Jang Deok-chul’s comment boiled down to: exceptionally handsome with pretty decent playing ability?
“Move over.”
Jo Hyun-seop took a seat where he could monitor the studio.
The boy sitting there, neatly dressed in his school uniform, appeared tall and well-proportioned even while seated.
His somewhat stern, not-quite-mature face still carried baby fat, but it was the kind of face that would draw a thick fanbase once he filled out a bit more.
Just then, the student on the monitor finished recording and began playing back the track.
The moment Jo Hyun-seop heard the music, he found himself surprised.
A bold, intense musical line flowed out—entirely at odds with the student’s image.
Rock?
Hard rock at that?
It felt like an amateur’s homage to 1980s Punk Rock, but it brought back memories and wasn’t bad.
Just as he was thinking he’d like to hear more, the boy stopped the music.
Park Min-ji, who’d been watching from the side, chimed in.
“How does it sound to you, boss? I thought it was pretty good just from when the Sessions were being built.”
“Not bad. For an amateur level.”
“Boss, you’re not downplaying it just because he’s good-looking, are you?”
“What nonsense.”
“Someone with that face who can play like that is so cute—I mean, so rare!”
At Park Min-ji’s idol-fan enthusiasm, Jo Hyun-seop shrugged.
This is exactly the textbook reaction.
Jang Deok-chul seemed to have it too.
Just as Jo Hyun-seop was about to stop paying attention to this high school student, a new song began flowing from the speakers.
It wasn’t entirely new.
It sounded like an Arrangement of the song he’d just heard.
But the level was different.
The Medium-tempo piece was somehow pleasurable just to listen to.
The absence of friction while listening meant the instruments were harmonizing beautifully.
Beginning with a fresh, clean Verse, the music proceeded while maintaining just the right amount of tension.
And as it arrived at the Pre-Chorus, something began to build.
The moderate tension from before filled to extremity as the drums and instruments kicked into high gear.
The moment the Chorus hit, all that tension dissolved, and a funky rhythm nearly identical to the original burst through.
“Wait?”
Only when the Chorus began did it become clear.
This high school student had built up the Chorus beautifully through the Pre-Chorus.
Usually amateur composers push hard on the Chorus itself, but this kid knows something. He really does.
The foundation leading up to it is crucial for leaving a strong impression, and he’d executed it flawlessly.
The emotional delivery was certain because of it.
A feeling of youthful longing mixed with immaturity.
You could almost picture it—a youth in school uniform running beneath a blue sky.
It was bewildering.
This was professional-level work.
The kind of producer-level work that’s actually succeeding in the current scene.
How could a mere high schooler pull this off?
And then what was that first track?
‘Could he have been commissioned to do the Arrangement?’
Yet contrary to Jo Hyun-seop’s impression, the student on the monitor seemed dissatisfied, cocking his head.
Then he began tweaking the song for about twenty minutes.
Jo Hyun-seop, watching, felt no boredom whatsoever.
He was curious.
What else was he going to touch?
But absurdly, Jo Hyun-seop had no way to hear the result.
The student on the monitor finished monitoring only through headphones and extracted the file onto a USB drive.
Without the speakers on, monitoring was impossible from the counter.
But then Cha Seo-ha began working on yet another song.
For a guitar-heavy piece, the Riff alone tells you everything.
That Riff sells.
And it’d sell very well, at that.
But this new song seems to be in a female key—was he commissioned for this one too?
‘What exactly is this kid?’
It was a talent worth signing on the spot.
With that kind of looks, if he did idol work, he’d rake in serious money.
“Does he have a company?”
“Of course. You don’t get that kind of training from anywhere else.”
“No, that’s not something you get from training at all.”
It was talent. Natural, inborn talent.
Still, he likely had a company.
Too many people in this world had an eye for the uncut gem.
How much time passed like that?
Finally, the studio door opened and the student he’d been watching on the monitor appeared in person.
He was even more handsome than on screen, carrying an atmosphere unusual for a high schooler.
His face had real presence.
“Where’s the restroom?”
And his voice was even better.
“Around that corner—hold on, student.”
“Yes?”
“I happened to catch some of your monitoring. Are those original compositions?”
At Jo Hyun-seop’s question, the student nodded calmly.
“Yes.”
“Did someone commission the Arrangement? The two tracks were on completely different levels.”
“No, I just… touched up an old song I’d made with friends.”
Old?
He’s this young now—when would “old” even be?
“You have a contract with a company, right?”
“No, I don’t.”
“So you’ve been doing all this on your own up until now?”
“Yes.”
“Your songs impressed me so much. I’d really like to introduce you to some good companies if you’re interested.”
At Jo Hyun-seop’s words, the student stared at him intently.
Realizing belatedly that he might seem suspicious, Jo Hyun-seop offered his business card.
“I’m the owner here. I’m saying this with no ulterior motive.”
“Do you know ‘Uptown Boy’? The boss made that song. He’s the producer of the group that sang it.”
Park Min-ji added from beside him.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sorry.”
“It’s because your talent would go to waste. You don’t have to sign a contract, but it’d be good to at least go talk to them.”
“I’m not alone.”
“You’re not alone?”
“I’m preparing to start a band with friends.”
“Ah.”
At the word “band,” Jo Hyun-seop let out an exclamation.
He’d thought they were just rock-based in genre, but they were actually forming a proper rock band.
“If you ever need anything, please get in touch.”
“Why?”
“Because I used to play in a band too. And Deok-chul spoke very highly of you.”
“Ah, um… thank you.”
The student took the business card, but didn’t seem to give it much weight.
“If I may ask—how are you planning to approach the band activities?”
It was perhaps meddling, but the current band market was in serious decline.
What Jo Hyun-seop worried about was such a talented person learning the market’s harsh reality and growing discouraged.
The student’s answer was straightforward.
“We haven’t got all the members together yet. But I appreciate the support.”
* * *
Somehow in this life, older men keep approaching me.
I know there’s a generation with nostalgia for rock, but it’s starting to feel like a Pokémon game.
Like encountering a gym leader every time you enter a new gym?
These two asked me the same question.
‘What exactly do you want to do in this depressed band market?’

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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