15/10/2025

Excerpts from the History of Korean Popular Music [9]

Meanwhile, Jazz Plays Softly: The Jazz Songs (Part II)





To the left, the legendary, two-story Nakrang Parlor (Nakrang-daband), which opened its doors in 1932; to the right, dancer and—as we would call her today—influencer Choi Seung-hee,
having coffee on the terrace of the Chosun Hotel in 1940 (Public Domain)



Before continuing with other major figures of jazz in Joseon, let us talk about the jazz songs of the era. It is clear that jazz was more than just music; as previously mentioned, it was first and foremost a lifestyle, an attitude that reflected the spirit of modernity. Therefore, it is no surprise that most of the genres discussed so far were permeated by it in some way: either in the singing style, the instrumentation, or both, even if the foundation happened to be early trot, new folk song, or manyo. The extent to which this might have also been a conscious choice will be discussed later.

Naturally, a consequence of this is that jazz songs do not really exhibit all the defining musical characteristics of the jazz genre simultaneously, but the feeling is undeniably present.

For this very reason, it is not easy to summarize the music belonging to the category of jazz songs from this period. Furthermore, many—precisely due to these genre blendings—place the true beginning of Korean jazz only in the years following World War II. Others question the independent identifiability of jazz, arguing that this music was considered frivolous and was therefore mainly employed by manyo musicians; they claim that manyo and jazz cannot be separated from each other, being one and the same. In both viewpoints, a certain patronizing malice toward the jazz of the era can be felt, but fortunately, more thorough mappings have been produced as well. However, there is also some truth to them, as the musical landscape of manyo, lacking any precursors, obviously allowed greater freedom for composers' imaginations and instrumentation experiments to run wild. Therefore, it is no coincidence that, for example, the song Oppa is a playboy, which could be heard earlier in the presentation of manyo, also finds its place in a jazz club environment, as we can see it performed by Joo Won in the drama Bridal Mask (Gaksital, 2012):




Illuminating a scene from the drama through the lyrics of the song:

Do you remember the dilemma from the seventh chapter regarding the correct translation and interpretation of the song's title? Since the meaning of oppa as 'older brother' is the correct solution for 'Oppa Is a Troublemaker', it also explains a scene in the Bridal Mask video above. In this scene, Lee Kang-to (played by Joo Won) chokes up while singing because the lyrics bring back the memory of his older brother, whom he had similarly considered a good-for-nothing troublemaker. He cannot even continue singing and runs out of the room—a reaction that wouldn't make much sense if the song were merely about a lovers' tiff. Anything more would be a spoiler, but I highly recommend this magnificent drama to everyone.



The jazz songs formed a constant musical backdrop in the fashionable coffeehouses and teahouses of the era, the dabangs (다방). Located almost exclusively in major cities, these places were symbols of Westernization, luxury, and social status. In principle, they were open to anyone, yet their audience primarily consisted of the Japanese elite, the Korean bourgeoisie, and modernist intellectuals. For an average person, a drink there represented an unreachable luxury—costing four to five times as much as an ordinary lunch—but an equally excluding factor was that foreign languages were often used in dabangs, and knowledge of modern (Western) etiquette was expected. Dabangs initially started as luxury interior lounges within hotels, expanding into standalone institutions following that trend. The most famous dabangs strove to create a unique identity through their interior design, often adopting the distinct features of exotic or other national cultures, such as Mexico (멕시코 다방), the German Win (빈 다방), the Russian Troika (트로이카 다방), the French Mimosa (미모사 다방), or Nakrangpara (낙랑파라 다방), whose interior was inspired by artifacts from the historical Nakrang Kingdom, which was undergoing excavation at that exact time. Since they were often managed by renowned Joseon artists (writers, actors, filmmakers), they also fulfilled cultural functions; Nakrangpara, for instance, functioned as a visual arts exhibition space, while Fugaro (풍가로 다방) and Erisa (엘리사 다방) served as venues for classical music concerts. As was the case elsewhere in the world, dabangs became hangouts for writers and artists, as well as "information hubs" for all modern-minded young intellectuals seeking refuge from the oppressive colonial censorship and political reality. The first Korean-run dabang, Kakadu (카카두 다방), operated by filmmaker Lee Kyung-son, opened in 1927.
  
Speaking of film and drama clips, it is worth pausing for a moment to consider the question: how much reality is there in the dance entertainment venues that frequently appear in stories set during the late period of Japanese rule? Did public dance halls, open to everyone, truly operate in Joseon? According to some, they did not, because they were banned by the Japanese Governor-General, specifically in connection with a petition submitted by Koreans in 1937 requesting the licensing of such venues. At the same time, recent cultural history research and contemporary press archives (e.g. Hiphople) have unearthed numerous newspaper articles from between 1931 and 1945 proving that many dance venues continued to operate despite the later bans. After all, how else could people have complained about their noise? The most likely explanation is that despite the ostensible prohibition, authorities turned a blind eye to their operation and only took action against them in the most flagrant cases. Since several such venues were reported even in the months immediately following liberation, this also makes it highly probable that these dance spots had been established earlier and operated continuously.



“The noise of a bar across the street, a dance hall and
a jazz bar two doors down is so loud that it is deafening.”
(Jayu Shinmun, October 7, 1945, page 2) (Public Domain)



Fourteen years earlier, in June 1931, Oh Seok-Cheon wrote this about jazz dances in his article titled Modernism:


“Jazz dance. The original homeland of this is 'Yankee-land'. (……) Just look at their dance steps! They tilt their upper body (the chest) backward as much as possible and push their lower body (the belly) forward, don’t they? If not that, they move their upper and lower bodies pressed tightly against each other. What a superfluous, shameless posture this is—a one hundred percent outburst of pure erotica! In such poses, they spin, twitch, and leap all over the place. And then what happens? They loiter, wander, get drunk, dance—and finally... disappear into a “monglong hotel” (meaning some hotel of dubious reputation). Speed, train, automobile, airplane—all these instruments mean only this: new fields and new settings for erotica and mania. They board—and it begins there; they alight—and with that, it ends.”





Chosun Ilbo, February 18, 1933 (Public Domain)


A portion of the jazz songs is nothing more than the adoption of famous foreign (mostly American, but even Japanese) hits, often interpreted without changes, or perhaps featuring rearranged instrumentation or new lyrics. Among these, one humorously points out the consequences arising from the mix-ups. Ethel Waters sang the song Dinah in 1926, which a Japanese performer under the stage name Dick Mine adopted from her and released in two languages, Japanese and Korean. For the latter, he even chose a Korean stage name, Sam Woo-yeol, which very much looks like a transliteration of Samuel. The swing jazz song became popular in Joseon as well, and since Dick Mine sang the Korean version without an accent, many believed him to be Korean; thus, it could happen that a Japanese person received fan letters from the colonized citizens of Joseon.

Dick Mine was likely a discovery of Okeh, and his popularity among Koreans also contributed to jazz songs becoming well-liked. His repertoire also included instrumental arrangements of four previously successful yuhaengga songs (such as Tears of Mokpo).






Another example of Korean versions of American songs: the song My Joyful Life (즐거운 나의 살림) was released in 1935, performed by Kwon Young-gil, which is originally an adaptation of Walter Donaldson and George A. Whiting's 1926 song My Blue Heaven. The composer of the rearrangement is Okuyama Sadayoshi, and the writer of the Korean lyrics is Kim Dong-jin.






Although urban youth were increasingly thrilled by jazz from the mid-20s onward, record production only started later. Nippon Columbia first released two Korean-language jazz songs in 1930, performed by Bok Hye-sook, titled I Miss You (그대 그립da/그대 그립다) and Jongno March (종로 행진곡). The reason for this is explained in two ways: on one hand, perhaps the publishers did not consider the demand for jazz songs in Joseon to be sufficient, and on the other hand, a reluctance due to the bad reputation of the jazz genre, which stood in contrast to the publishers' initial "popular education, uplifting the people" attitude. However, market interests soon prevailed, and from 1935, the release of jazz song records became continuous.

Now, examples of popular jazz recordings from the jazz singers and songwriters of the era follow, without claiming to be exhaustive. We have already encountered several of them in previous chapters, as they were at home in various musical genres as well.



Choi Myeong-ju (? - ?)


Choi Myeong-ju (Public Domain)




Among the earliest jazz songs written by Koreans is a composition by Yun Young-hu titled Night of Youth (청춘의 밤), which was released in 1933; it may well be the first published jazz song. Its singer was Choi Myoung-ju, who, like many contemporary female singers, was a Pyongyang gisaeng.







Kim Jeong-gu (1916-1998)



Kim Jeong-gu (Public Domain)



Kim Jeong-gu was already mentioned in the fifth part regarding Tears-Soaked Duman River, as well as in the previous part in connection with manyo. Now, his 1937 song Cry, Saxophone (울어라 쌕쓰폰) must be cited here, which is particularly jazz-associative due to the saxophone in its title and music, and often features as an example of Joseon-swing.







Park Dan-ma (1921-1992)



Park Dan-ma (Public Domain)


She was already singing on Gyeongseong radio at the age of 13 and made her record debut in 1937 with Victor Records. Her most famous hits in the '30s were I am 17 Years Old and Croaking Song (맹꽁이 타령). She remained popular even into the '50s, but when she married an American man, she moved to the United States. Upon her return, she continued her career from 1977 with the release of a solo album. She died in Los Angeles after refusing the blood transfusion necessary for her heart surgery due to religious reasons.


The song I am 17 Years Old (나는 열일곱 살이에요) was indeed sung by Park Dan-ma at the age of 17 in 1938. This is a medium-tempo, lyrical-sentimental song that mostly belongs among the yuhaenggas, yet strong jazz influences can be felt in its vocal style, melody progression, and instrumentation. The song's composer is Jeon Su-rin, and the lyricist is Lee Bu-pung.






With her hit from a year later, titled Frivolous Breeze (날라리 바람), we have already met above in connection with the drama Chicago Typewriter. Now, however, let us listen to the original version performed by Park Dan-ma. Unfortunately, the names of the authors are not known, but this song is once again an example of works showing multiple classification possibilities: this time, a new folk song is recolored with musical elements characteristic of swing. Besides the light, danceable melody, the word frivolous (날라리) in the title also refers to urban, bohemian entertainment.






Son Mok-in, Park Si-chun, and Kim Hae-song are considered the three main composer-performers of Joseon jazz. In fact, Hong Nan-pa also belongs among them, differing from them only in that the focus of his musical activities shifted to jazz for only a short time, whereas it accompanied the entire lifework of the others.

Unfortunately, it is also true for jazz records that many of them are lost, or can only be found in reconstructions pieced together from fragments due to poor quality. I have come across references to many songs for which I could not find an available, digitized version to listen to. Even though the aforementioned individuals wrote and sang hundreds of songs, I mostly encountered the mention of only one or two songs in the overviews of each genre. Fortunately, this brief introductory overview does not really allow for more presentations either, so these are the ones I will present as well.

We have already encountered the name of Son Mok-in several times in the previous chapters (Tears of Mokpo, The Shepherd Boy with the Hay Bale, Sing Sing Sing).



Son Mok-in (1913-1999)



Son Mok-in (Public Domain)

 

Son Mok-in’s real name was Son Deuk-ryeol, but he also used the stage names Son Andre, Yang Sang-po, and Im Won. He was born in Jinju; his father practiced traditional Korean medicine, so they lived in good circumstances. Son and the composer Moon Ho-wol (who will be discussed later) were cousins. During his school years, Son Mok-in became acquainted with Western music through a Christian youth organization of which he was a member. 
He studied piano in Tokyo, and he drew the attention of Okeh Records, for which he became the exclusive composer by 1934. Initially, he wrote songs for Go Bok-su, many of which became hits. His song Tears of Mokpo, performed by Lee Nan-young, was released in 1935 and brought him immense success. He graduated from the composition department of the Japan Higher Music School in 1936, and upon returning home, he introduced the swing jazz trend that was popular in Japan at the time. 
He developed the CMC Band (Choseon Musical Band), the exclusive orchestra of Okeh Records, into Joseon’s first swing band. For a short time, he became an exclusive composer for Columbia Records. In 1940, he founded the Son Mok-in Band, touring Japan and China with their stage performances. During the war period, he composed marches supporting the Japanese, and in February 1944, as a member of the 'Maesin Unit for Inspiring and Entertaining Industrial Front Soldiers' organized by the Maeil Sinbo, he performed in military supply factories in the northern Seoul (Gyeongin) region, thus being placed into the service of imperialist Japan's war machine. 
In 1947, he became the music editor for the HLKA radio station. He entered Japan illegally in 1951, from where he returned to Korea only in 1957. During this period, he engaged in composing film music. During the Vietnam War, he traveled to the front in 1965 to participate in the work of the front-line artist unit performing for the soldiers, which was organized by his son (Frankie Son). 
He emigrated to the United States in 1967, commuting between San Francisco, Seoul, and Tokyo, until he finally returned to Korea in 1982. Following this, the founding of the Sokin Music Center (1987), the Korea Music Copyright Association (1964), and the Korean Association of Songwriters (1989) is credited to his name. For his work, he received high state decorations.

 

I have already shown Son Mok-in’s 1939 recording as an example of jazz in the third chapter. Now, a bit more detail about the version of Sing, Sing, Sing heard here, which is sung by Son Mok-in. Furthermore, he not only sings but also demonstrates that he is skilled at scat singing. The well-known song was released in Benny Goodman’s arrangement in 1938, two years after the original Louis Prima recording. Song Mok-in’s version was released by Regal Records in 1939, accompanied by the label's own orchestra.

For those curious about the path leading to the Korean version of the song, the original recording made by Louis Prima in 1936 can be listened to here:


Then the famous, 8-and-1/2-minute version by Benny Goodman, featuring Gene Krupa on drums (a shorter, edited version of this was also made). The song was recorded in 1937 in Los Angeles:

1938 HITS ARCHIVE: Sing, Sing, Sing - Benny Goodman (original Victor version)


There is barely any time difference between the dates, meaning that the Eastern region followed musical novelties almost immediately. However, not automatically: the songs often appeared in their own arrangements; it can be heard here as well that Son Mok-in wrote new music to the familiar song. The instrumentation was done by that Ryoichi Hattori who is considered the pioneer of Japanese jazz.




 

The composition by Son Mok-in titled The Red Cuffs of the Port (항구의 불근[붉은] 소매) was released in 1940 by Okeh Records, the singer is Lee Nan-young, and the lyrics of the song were written by Jo Myeong-am.

The majority of the recordings were made by the singer traveling to Japan, where the current song was recorded accompanied by Japanese musicians. This recording, however, is believed to have been made in the only studio established in Joseon; therefore, the musicians heard in it are likely from Joseon, through whose playing we can thus gain an idea of the skill of Korean musicians as well.






On the website of Musicology, they write about the recording:

The guitar solo heard in the introduction and the second interlude can likely be considered the playing of Kim Hae-song, who played the Hawaiian (slack-key or slide) guitar excellently. At the same time, if we compare it with other recordings definitely originating from him, a slight difference can be perceived—the tone is similar, but the sense of rhythm and the melody progression differ. However, if this recording truly originates from him, then it is clear that he was particularly strong in music of this style.

The rhythm guitar does not seem to be a traditional instrument either: it might rather have been a steel guitar used for blues or a "gypsy swing" type guitar with a small soundhole. The fact that such instruments were used at that time is fascinating in itself. The clarinet solo heard in the first interlude is also of an unusually high standard (moreover, during the singing, it cleverly weaves in the arpeggios).

This song differs from the trot tracks fashionable at the time in that it is built not on a slow 2/4 rhythm, but on a fast-tempo 4/4 swing rhythm, with an emphasis received on every beat. Yet, the climax is Lee Nan-young’s singing. Her characteristic, slightly nasal performance style bounces snappily along with the rhythm; this playful tone could easily have stolen the hearts of young men of the era. Furthermore, the scat singing already encountered in her song Dream of the Sea (1939) also returns in it.

- : 이난영 – 항구의 불근(붉은) 소매 (Choi Yu-jun: Lee Nan-young - The Red Cuffs of the Port)



Park Si-chun (1913-1996)



Park Si-chun (Public Domain)


Park Si-chun was active in many different fields: he was a composer and multi-instrumentalist (guitar, trumpet, violin, saxophone), an actor, a producer, as well as a film and film score director. His real name was Park Soon-dong; his father managed a gisaeng training institution, where he, too, grew to love music at an early age. From 1929 onward, he debuted playing a new instrument each year. He was an extremely prolific composer, leaving behind around 3,000 songs, thereby earning the title "the root and pillar of Korean pop music." He composed primarily in the yuhaengga genre, but other genres were not foreign to him either. During World War II, he wrote pro-Japanese songs, which landed him on the list of collaborators. During the Korean War, he served at the Navy's public education bureau and wrote the war hymn Good Night, Comrade. From the '50s onward, he was active mainly in the film industry, composing numerous film scores. He was the first president of the Korea Entertainment Association, founded in 1961. Despite his pro-Japanese activities, he was the first to be awarded the Cultural Merit Medal by the government, and the first among entertainment industry composers to receive this recognition.

Next is the song Dream of the Sea (바다의 꿈), performed by Lee Nan-young, which was mentioned at the end of the previous quote and released on record in 1939. The song was composed by Park Si-chun, with lyrics written by Jo Myeong-am. This cheerful swing-style song is also known as Beach Scene, as its lyrics vividly evoke the sensual experiences of spending time at the sea, from the fashionable clothing of vacationers to the aroma of refreshing food and drinks and seaweed. Lee Nan-young also demonstrates that she is skilled at scat singing.






Listening to Park Si-chun's recordings, I did not really find other compositions evoking jazz, though it is characteristic of all of them that he applied Western-style instrumentation. However, an interesting recording surfaced, which is perhaps not the most typical of either his lifework or jazz, but is quite unique. It was released on the B-side of the Tears of Mokpo record in 1938—a Hawaiian guitar solo played by Dick Mine on electric guitar, while Park Si-chun accompanies him on acoustic guitar. The electric pickup has existed since 1931 and was first used precisely for a Hawaiian guitar, as the volume of acoustic guitars proved insufficient in jazz big bands. It is quite possible that this still came across as a novelty even in 1938.







The Husband and Wife: Kim Hae-song (1911–~1950) and Lee Nan-young (1916–1965)



A Lee Nan-young (1916-1965) - Kim Hae-song (1911- ~1950) házaspár



Both members of the couple are true giants of the music of the era. They had seven children who inherited their talent, and from them, two famous formations were born: the Kim Sisters and the Kim Brothers. I have already presented Lee Nan-young's life in the fifth part, so now I will write only about Kim Hae-song.

Kim Hae-song is his stage name; his real name is Kim Song-gyu. Nothing certain is known about his studies, but he stood out early with his musical talent. He joined Okeh Records in 1935 as a singer and composer, but he was also skilled in instrumentation, stage performance and directing, as well as conducting, and he played the guitar well. His compositions, like his performances, were full of humor and wit. Around 80 recordings of his own singing and 190 of his songs were released, many of which were banned. He was excellent at performing manyos and was also familiar with Western popular music, doing much for the naturalization of blues, jazz, and swing in Joseon. In fact, he is considered the precursor and starting point of first-generation jazz musicians. He married Lee Nan-young in 1936, for whom he wrote many songs, and they also sang duets together. Some descriptions refer to Kim Hae-song's difficult nature, claiming he was violent and dissolute—though his music is the exact opposite: playful and sophisticated. He also worked with the Victor and Columbia labels, but returned to Okeh, where he participated in the work of the performing troupe and was also a member of the band called Arirang Boys (together with Park Si-chun). Toward the end of the colonial years, along with his wife, he was forced into pro-Japanese activities (composing songs and organizing performances to entertain Japanese soldiers), but due to the recognition of their vulnerability, they were not included on the list of collaborators. After liberation, he became an executive member of the Stage Music and Dance Department of the Central Council for the Construction of Korean Culture. Following the death of Lee Cheol, he took over the Joseon Musical Company in 1944, and a year later established the KPK Orchestra, with which they mainly performed musicals. During the Korean War, he did not flee Seoul with his family, which resulted in him being abducted by the Northerners, though he was first allowed to return home. However, a few days later they came for him again, and his wife last saw him in prison, even then only from a distance. His further fate remains unknown; according to research, he was likely either executed in prison in October 1950, or lost his life in early 1951 in a North Korean labor camp or hospital.

In previous chapters, we have already heard some of Kim Hae-song's compositions, including the emblematic Oppa is a playboy, A Courtesan's Dream, the duets Telephone Conversation and Coming and Going, or the blues The Blue Dream of the Teahouse at the beginning of this chapter.

Now another duet follows, Emotional Day (감격의 그날), released in 1936, which is classified as a jazz song by genre. Its lyrics were written by Park Young-ho, and its music was composed by Kim Hae-song under the name Kim Soung-gyu, singing together with his wife, Lee Nan-young.






In 1938, Youth Class (청춘계급) was released, which already bears a social overtone in its title, as it can refer to the distinct "class" or life-feeling of the young generation, which, in the context of modern, urban jazz culture (the Joseon of the 1930s), could carry either an ironic or a self-identifying meaning. Classified into the group of yuhaenggas, the song was composed and performed by Kim Hae-song, its lyrics were written by Park Yong-ho, and the instrumentation is the work of Niki Takio. Yet, despite the different genre classification, the Chicago-style jazz song is regarded as one of Kim's representative jazz works.






An alloy of sharply sarcastic manyo and music influenced by swing jazz and foxtrot is The Dog-Meat-Eating Clerk (개고기주사), released in 1938, which caricatures a degraded yet pompous figure, a sort of urban street character. Composer: Kim Hae-song, lyrics: Kim Da-in.






The 1939 Save Me, Amitabha Buddha! (나무아미타불) is once again a recording classified among manyos, which its 4/4 swing rhythm and jungle drumming showing a Duke Ellington influence nevertheless decidedly turn into a jazz song. On this jazz foundation, the typical manyo melody resonates, with lyrics written by Kim Ta-in. The song pokes at those highly educated, modern people who nevertheless do not turn toward others with understanding, remaining conceited and arrogant. An interesting feature of the text is that it adopts concrete Buddhist phrases and implants them into a parodistic context, primarily to express outrage or astonishment (just as we might say, "Good heavens!"). The lines returning as a chorus:

"Avalokitesvara, Avalokitesvara...
Ten years of studying, namu amitabul."

In these, Avalokitesvara is one of Buddhism's most famous bodhisattvas, the embodiment of compassion, also known as the "one who perceives the laments of the world," while the meaning of namu amitabul is "Homage to Amitabha Buddha"—but here it is to be interpreted rather as an expression of agitation, similar to "God bless you!".







In the fifth chapter, we could already hear the couple singing a duet (Hesitation / 올팡 갈팡); now let us listen to another one by them. Youth Building (청춘삘딩) is a yuhaengga song written by Kim Hae-song, but like the former, it is characterized by Western-style instrumentation and a swing feeling. The performance of the duet requires a lot of humor and stage skills, as it uses urban slang (English words) from the jazz era to depict the settings and snapshots of city life, the morning greetings of employees arriving at the office building, and—no matter how clumsy they might be individually—their shared daydreams and flirtations, all embodied by the "youth building," which serves as a metaphor for a modern, cheerful, jazzy urban life.




 


On Kim Hae-song's extremely diverse musical palette, there is a peculiar song, the 1938 Tavern Scene (선술집 풍경). In terms of its genre classification, it is a new folk song, though it would fit better among the manyos. Its text is full of words that are now unknown and extinct, which were used to name contemporary foods, professions, and so on. The song is indeed a slice of life, about nothing more than what the common people gathered in the tavern are drinking and eating; the air is filled with shouts calling for another drink to be poured, and the whole song has a sort of tavern-buzz character. Yet, the strangest thing about it is that the tavern atmosphere is not relaxed and liberating, but gloomy and ominous, as if no one went there for recreation or friendly conversation, but only to forget the burdens of life for a few moments: "Oh, the taste of alcohol is good, good, good... The tavern is our paradise"—says the repeating chorus. To Park Yeon-ho's lyrics, Kim Hae-song wrote music in which the foxtrot sound paired with Western instrument use is distinct, featuring some syncopated rhythmics. The use of brass instruments is fascinatingly expressive, simultaneously conveying dazedness and wandering attention, and the deep melodic lines fall heavily upon the listener, just like the worries weighing them down. Kim Hae-song's singing is also magnificent, at once tipsy, slightly combative, and vulgar with hiccups and belches—while being infinitely sad. If I may express a personal note, this song is one of those that completely enchanted me during this journey through music history.








Moon Ho-wol (1908-1952)



Moon Ho-wol (Public Domain)


We do not know much about Moon Ho-wol’s life. He was born in Jinju and learned music in a self-taught manner, his main instrument being the violin. First, he played in performing troupes of the entertainment industry and in orchestras accompanying silent films, and then in 1927, he became a member of the orchestra accompanying the first broadcast of Gyeongseong Radio. He became famous as a composer from 1934, renowned primarily for his sin minyo songs that completely lacked the influence of Japanese enka.


Let us listen to one of his compositions in a 1940 recording by the Okeh Jazz Band, which is none other than the instrumental version of the song Kwanseo of a Thousand Miles (관서천리)—it is as if we were hearing only the accompanying music without vocals. (The original song, performed by Lee Eun-pa, can be found in Part 6.)






While in the previous chapter the vocal version was included in the selection as a characteristic example of sin minyo (new folk song), it is very interesting to observe what other features, more characteristic of jazz, we can notice in the composition alongside the musical solutions typical of new folk songs. It would be difficult not to perceive its groove character. While sin minyo arranges the originally rhythmically free folk song into a 4/4 rhythm, this order is made playful by the frequently heard syncopated pulsation and the shifting of accents, which evokes the influence of jazzy dance music (foxtrot, early swing). For music experts: the melody is of modal/melismatic origin, but a Western chord progression is placed underneath it, often built on I–IV–V triads (three-note chords). This is occasionally colored with seventh chords (dominant 7th, subdominant 7th), which is a typical jazz tool, albeit in a simplified form. Even if we do not understand these technicalities, we can be enchanted by the call-and-response play of the solo instruments. This question-and-answer logic is also a clearly jazzy influence, just like the alternating, improvisational sections, no matter how brief they may be. In the “bridge” part, there is also sometimes a short modulation or chord change that adapts to popular-jazzy song forms. Therefore, even if we do not get jazz as the main course, we undeniably taste the jazzy flavors.

The piece is also a fascinating example of how deeply the musical mother tongue of the Joseon musicians permeated Western instruments. Although it is actually the classic woodwinds of the jazz orchestra (clarinet, saxophone) playing on the recording, the musicians perform with such subtle inflections and vibratos that the ear involuntarily seems to discover the traditional sound of the piri or haegeum, and the pulse of the janggu in the background. This cultural resonance is precisely what makes the playing of the Okeh Jazz Band truly unique.


Summary of the Characteristics of Korean Jazz Songs

At the end of this brief journey into the jazz history of the colonial period, the question may inevitably arise: what caused this constant musical blending? What might still have been natural at the beginning should perhaps have matured by the late '30s so that jazz could detach itself from other contemporary genres, yet we see the exact opposite. We might suspect a lack of knowledge or training, but I think we can rule these out entirely, as contemporary Joseon musicians gave countless proofs that they were well aware of the history, genres, and styles of American jazz; even if they could only face Japanese musicians with difficulty due to their disadvantaged position, they still stood their ground gallantly.

The explanation may lie in two things, one of which is the consequence of changes brought about by history. In the annexed territories, strict censorship was one of the tools for securing power, which could equally affect lyrics and entire genres alike. The popularity of jazz actually exploded in 1935, with the majority of the albums appearing in the following few years. Japan, however, launched the war against China in 1937 and then entered World War II, which brought about the banning of cultural products tied to enemy powers; thus, from 1940, a total ban came into effect regarding jazz as well, meaning that from then on, the designation "jazz song" completely disappeared. Of course, this did not eliminate audience demand, and there continued to be a greater demand for popular music than for military marches.

Many of those dealing with the music history of the era have come to the conclusion that the mixing of genres could also have been part of a deliberately developed evasion-defense strategy. We could see that the instrumentation of the songs is almost always jazz-like, while the vocals mostly resemble one of the other genres (yuhaengga, new folk song, manyo). This multi-faceted nature made it possible to avoid the categorization of the compositions as jazz songs, as the individual pieces contained enough elements to allow for their alternative genre classification. With this, it could be managed to comply with the official ban while still serving the desires of the audience. At least for a while, because with the escalation of the war, not much living space remained for popular music as a whole, let alone jazz songs.

Finally, a thought-provoking peculiarity that requires further investigation: while the roots of jazz in America reach down into the most destitute social class, into the fate of those who experienced slavery, in Joseon, jazz became the music of the upper-middle class. And therein lies the irony of fate: because it was precisely this better-off layer that could not exist otherwise than by cooperating on some level with the colonizers. This is such an striking difference that it is impossible not to marvel at it. Although white youth in America also found the excitement of the music, among the people of Joseon I perceive some deeper resonance beyond what is continuously mentioned as the "modern life-feeling" conveyed by jazz. It was precisely Kim Hae-song’s Tavern Scene that reminded me that jazz is also capable of expressing the deep undercurrent behind the surface of modern life, clothed in a modern guise: the general, "blue" state of mind of the colonial fate. And what is still just a fleeting (and perhaps erroneous) thought in me: it is as if this phenomenon resembles what we see nowadays in the field of K-pop. To put it simply: the well-to-do youth of a wealthy society adopt hip-hop culture, including rap, which serves to state social passions without disguise—which originally was precisely meant to express the life-feeling of African Americans in New York who were excluded from the consumer world.

According to my plans, in the continuation, I will endeavor to review the situation of popular music from the beginning of the Sino-Japanese War to the end of the Korean War.



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