Starship Entertainment
A scroll through KiiiKiii’s Instagram feed brings up a series of surreal images: a pickaxe being dragged across a keyboard as cartoon gems dance on a monitor; a middle-aged white guy with “KiiiKiii” spray-painted across his massive mohawk; five CDs positioned in pentagon formation. It’s not what you’d expect to see from your typical K-pop group making its introduction to the world, but KiiiKiii isn’t trying to be normal.
The latest act from Starship Entertainment — the company behind traditionally earnest and polished groups like IVE and Monsta X — KiiiKiii have latched onto a mid-2010s Tumblr aesthetic pioneered by groups like Jogging, where inside jokes collide with a heady rejection of the art school establishment. KiiiKiii’s aesthetic similarly pushes back on the overarching expectations of female K-pop artists, offering dirty fingernails and scene-coded fashion where manicures and luxury are the norm. It’s an effective introduction to one of the most interesting K-pop girl groups to debut in recent years.
Since NewJeans’ supernova arrival in 2022 disrupted the girl-group time continuum and sparked a wave of new acts also emulating authentic, early-aught nostalgia like ILLIT and Hearts2Hearts, KiiiKiii is the first to market a concept that’s discernably different: a little brain-rotted subversion that scuffs the otherwise gleaming shellac of K-pop songs.
KiiiKiii’s debut EP, Uncut Gem, released on March 24, is laced with the impish self-awareness that defines Gen Z and Gen Alpha’s online dispositions. It’s most glaring on opener “Debut Song,” a fried lounge remix of “Happy Birthday” with lyrics congratulating themselves for debuting as a group. It’s not that unusual for a K-pop group to reference their own debut (see KATSEYE’s “Debut”), but KiiiKiii’s use of the “Happy Birthday” is particularly on the nose, and they know it too: “I do it my way,” they declare later on the song “I Do Me.”
The rest of the EP hinges on upending expectations. The foundation of the songs are sounds that could be trending on TikTok, but twisted and oddly compressed. “Groundwork,” a rap song with an alarm-like beat, sounds like it’s been pressed through an iPhone speaker. “There They Go,” on which the group addresses themselves in third person — “KiiiKiii is so exciting, there they go, there they go” — features disembodied sonic elements like they were spliced from other songs and mashed together. “BTG” is the EP’s shiniest song, a pittering Jersey Club heartracer that’s starkly interspersed with dark trap verses, and it too bears a layer of grime.
To be fair, “weird-core” and kitschy concepts aren’t new to K-pop. I think back to Orange Caramel, a second-gen girl group who made odd, maximalist pop and performed as mermaids stuck in cellophane wrap as pioneers of concepts that similarly sparked questions of “what the heck is going on?” The difference between those groups and KiiiKiii, perhaps, comes down to timing. Orange Caramel ceased promotions after only four years, facing an industry that couldn’t manage their style. With the current online generation being more inclined to reward wackier experimentation, KiiiKiii may fare better — and the industry sees this.
Over the last few years, K-pop has trended from positioning idols as unobtainable super-individuals to marketing them as normal people, Gen Z who live online and are savvy at it too. And KiiiKiii’s concept feels like a test of how far they can push that, albeit still within certain confines. As engaging as their oddities are, KiiiKiii are still a part of K-pop’s billion dollar machine: their EP sports production by Ryan Jhun, a K-pop legend who’s created for SHINee, Super Junior, IU, and more, with contributions from Dem Jointz (Kanye West, Eminem), and August Rigo (BTS, Justin Bieber). This extends to their off-the-cuff-seeming creative direction, created by a robust team. If they find success — and their fans are responding — the most fascinating part might be what comes next.
