BTS returned from its mandatory service in the Korean Army with a tenth studio album, Arirang, part of the group’s self-proclaimed comeback — a title shared with its new Netflix live concert series. Arirang dives deep into the Bangtan Boys’ hip-hop influences, bringing on an international cohort of producers like Mike Will Made-It, JPEGMafia and more to mixed effect. While this new project may be more true to K-pop’s roots and inspirations, its questionable English lyrics and inconsistent grooves may leave fans disappointed.
Despite opening the group’s sixth Korean language album, “Body to Body” begins with a refrain in English, where the band members banter and awkwardly call each other “twin.” BTS usually includes plenty of English bars, especially from rapper and band-leader RM, but the sheer quantity and insincere delivery of the slang on “Body to Body” and the rest of the album seems uncharacteristically tasteless. The decision to try to emulate African-American vernacular was also questionable.
It doesn’t help that the production on the single sounds scattershot too. Featuring writing credits from rapper Teezo Touchdown, famed electronic producer Diplo, Korean producer Pdogg and One Direction singer Ryan Tedder, “Body to Body” blends a slurry of influences into a middling product, devoid of real direction. Synth hits are mixed so flatly that they become indistinguishable from the rest of the instrumental, muddling with samples and the band’s piercing vocals. Still, the energy the band brings is undeniable, and its Korean songwriting is catchy.
The next track, “Hooligan,” featuring contributions from Latin American producers El Guincho and Xplicit, throws those strengths out the window. Relying on an entirely English chorus from Jung-Kook with only Korean interjections, the lyrics on “Hooligan” are some of the weakest BTS has ever released, delivered without a hint of irony.
“Why this bassline slappin’ so rude,” Jung-Kook sings. “Drop it lower than chopped and screwed.”
Mike Will Made-It brings a throwaway beat to the next track, “Aliens,” slathering the band’s vocals in layers of ugly effects. On the chorus, j-hope unleashes a nasal performance reminiscent of Young Thug without the accompanying bombastic flair. Pairing a band as inoffensive as BTS with bars about “K” wasn’t an inspired choice either.
Production by experimental rapper JPEGMafia doesn’t save the fourth track, “Fya,” even as he lays down one of the album’s stronger beats. Childish chants of “everything lit, it’s fire, everything big, it’s fire” stomp out any ember of redemption in this song, a flicker further drowned by singer Jin’s sorry Britney Spears homage in the pre-chorus.
The near-silent interlude “No. 29” marks the album’s transition from hip-hop to pop and thus from outright offensive to mostly mediocre.
“Swim” is a bland pop song, sung entirely in simplistic English. Where Korean lyrics afford the band more rhythmic and melodic complexity, the limitations of translation seem to be harming everything that made BTS great. Production continues to occasionally salvage songs, as in Tame “Merry Go Round” scored by Impala’s Kevin Parker, which makes up for a lack of catchy hooks or singable moments.
The rest of the album follows in step with “Swim,” with some standout lowlights in “they don’t know ‘bout us” and the album’s closer “Into the Sun.” The former suffers from many of the problems diagnosed in the first half of the album — strange English slang and forgettable instrumental — while the latter struggles from hideous vocal processing that ruins the entire song. “Into the Sun” is undeniably experimental but lacks the avant-garde boldness and slick production characteristic of progressive genres like hyperpop.
Arirang is a story of great ideas and poor execution. A more experimental BTS album that harkens back to K-pop’s roots, that sounds like an excellent project. While the commercial success of Arirang seems undisturbed, hopefully audience criticism won’t dissuade BTS from continuing to experiment in its work. The group is undeniably talented, and even in its worst moments, shreds of potential still shine through.
Benjamin Smith is composition student and multi-instrumentalist who writes for the music desk of WVUA-FM. In addition to his contributions to the station, he serves as a copy editor and writer for The Crimson White, producing journalism on technology, justice and lifestyle. At the University of Alabama, he is pursuing a bachelor's in music composition and a master's in quantitative economics.
As an active composer, his score for the short film "Burnt Canvas" debuted at the Bama Theatre in 2026.
