The 50 best K-pop tracks of 2023

If the past few years have been focused on expanding K-pop (more global tours and festivals, more English releases), then 2023 was the expansion of the industry’s biggest companies’ interests beyond K-pop itself. HYBE bought Exile Music to enter the Latin American market, JYP Entertainment and Republic Records created the US girl group VCHA, and HYBE and Geffen made KATSEYE. Both girl groups, created using the K-pop training system, were envisioned as K-pop without the ‘K’ which, Geffen noted, wasn’t an unfeasible proposition since K-pop was also, essentially, just “pop” at this point. 

But is that really true? The wider Western industry doesn’t seem to agree. In 2019, the MTV VMA’s controversially split K-pop artists away from the pop category, and still does, and BTS, the only Korean act nominated in the Grammy’s Pop Duo/Group category, received inclusion only for their English language songs. Yet on a recent New York Times Times podcast, BTS’s Jung Kook was slated for sounding too American, too much like a “washed up Justin Timberlake”, on his debut solo record and not enough like K-pop.

The long-running debate over what makes K-pop actually K-pop was reinvigorated, not so much on Twitter/X – once the main hub of K-pop discourse – but TikTok. The platform, home to de rigueur thirst and appreciation edits, has become the mecca for all things K-pop, including reactors, dance covers and tutorials, once the reserve of YouTube, but particularly critique. The flipside to the increasing power of TikTok (and Spotify) is seen as its increasing detrimentality to the music itself. Labels hungering to go viral and boost streams continue to shorten tracks to well below three minutes, the result being too many songs feeling rushed, unfinished and under-explored.

Still, 2023 has been a bumper year for hits. Stray Kids, TXT, ENHYPEN, TWICE, aespa, and SEVENTEEN, amongst others, added yet more platinum records to their walls but the new guard, like NewJeans, IVE and ZEROBASEONE, are already making their mark as million sellers, signalling a generational change in the K-pop landscape. It seems fitting for us to make some changes, too, bidding farewell to rankings and including deep cuts to the ‘Best Of K-pop 2023’ for a more rounded celebration of a year of amazing music. And, that said, let’s dive in.

Putting the band’s dual light (‘red’) and dark (‘velvet’) concepts into one song felt like a tricky proposition having established them so well as distinctive entities. The switches between “Chill Kill”’s moody verses and spritely choruses took some getting used to but Red Velvet, as usual, were one step ahead and when this song clicks, boy, does it click. Its piece de resistance is the bridge, glittering with nostalgic, synth-led stardust, and one of the best big vocal performances of their career that made the long wait between releases worth it.

The anti-drop chorus of “Sugar Rush Ride” was divisive but the instrumental perfectly augments the story: The verses run towards a precipice, the rising pre-chorus leaps forth to grasp their desire (here, the freedom of youth), and that sparse chorus is the fall into the vortex as the devil revels in his win (“Gimme more, come here more, let’s play more”). Lyrically, a battle of wills to the very end, there is no bridge, only ad-libs that serve to claw out of a dream world and into an unforgiving reality. Maybe “Sugar Rush Ride” wasn’t for everyone but its coy breathiness houses plenty of esoteric thrills.

A video set in a maze of hotel rooms, slime dripping through holes, and lyrics like “Said she want more than a tip, I ain’t talkin’ ’bout guidance” and “Getting attracted more and more, as it comes to an end, know what I mean / Icky, icky, icky, ayy, ayy, ayy”, “ICKY” is as horny as it is celebratory. More-ish for its entirety, this isn’t just down to that sticky, icky refrain but KARD’s male and female members being equally integral to the song, making it thirsty rather than leery and sexy instead of lechy and, in 2023, that’s the grind anthem we deserve.

For months you couldn’t step foot in K-pop TikTok without seeing the “Rover” choreography performed by Kai, his fellow idols, and fans, which became as vital to success as the song itself (a close cover of “Mr. Rover” by Bulgarian artist DARA). Though its choppy, repetitive, and hugely effective hook was impossible to dislodge from memory, it was Kai’s signature juxtaposition of indolence, sensuality and urgency that bestowed replayability and longevity amongst the constant maelstrom of viral songs.

As a K-pop summer dance track that ticks absolutely zero K-pop summer dance track boxes, “Jump” veers into darker corners for an eerie, almost Halloween-y pre-chorus and fat, bassy chorus which thumps with the might of six-foot speakers in a sweaty basement nightclub. Too often tracks pare back their verses to bare bones to heighten the next mega-drop but “Jump” allows the rappers’ tight, understated rhythms to keep the track bubbling and spitting until that chorus is ready to sock you in the back of the head once again.

“Queencard” has a straightforward ask – appreciate and be confident about yourself – and delivers it via high comedy camp. The chorus flounces, preens and winks, the most confident woman in the room who wants everyone else to feel the same way. Some of the English lyrics are wholesomely ridiculous – “My boob and booty is hot… Look so cool, look so sexy like Kim Kardashian, Look so cute, look so pretty like Ariana” – but that’s the point, “Queencard” amplifies to the point of absurdity in order to break, reset and empower.

With HYBE’s love of the highbrow, this track might have been a complex examination of breaking the rules in line with its historical namesakes. But what’s a song rooted in disobedience if it isn’t, in actuality, disobedient to expectation? “Eve, Psyche and The Bluebeard’s wife” is, instead, a deep bass banger that shudders in the guts, its lyrics minimalist but acerbic, and vulnerable under an armour of self-deprecating humour (“I’m a mess in distress but we’re still the best dressed”). To think less of it because it’s more club land than book club, is to step into its crosshairs.

Synthwave absolutely refuses to budge from K-pop but it still procures sheer magic when wholeheartedly leaning into its ultra 80s iteration of huge gated drums and icy-yet-warm ambience. Jimin is perfectly suited to this: Airy and cold one moment, beckoning and seductive the next, his tonality is restless and shapeshifting, and even if the step into neon, hedonism, lust and loss was somewhat unexpected from his long-awaited solo work, there’s no argument that he’s deftly mastered yet another genre in which to house his talents.

It’s perfectly conveyed by Go Eun’s smouldering tone on the opening line that there isn’t an iota of romance sought here. All the breathy high notes, gothic strings, piano runs and the near-hypnotic chorus – “You want some sweet juice? Chew it, pop it, pop it, Slowly drippin’, drippin‘” – have plenty of poise but, deep down, it’s about dark parties, thirst and nerve endings wanting to be set alight. It acts like a lure, a siren song that circles daintily but relentlessly until it claims what it came for.

Doyoung, Jungwoo and Jaehyun step into the spotlight as the NCT universe continues to create sub-groups and, as some of the band’s smoothest vocalists, they invariably eat up this groove-laden, lip bite of a track. It proudly places 90s influences – funk, R&B and New Jack Swing – on its sleeve, and its tongue in cheek (when was the last time you heard a wolf whistle in a pop song, let alone so jauntily delivered), but these are all vital flourishes in its pointed seduction, this trio ensuring “Perfume” never breaks its come-hither gaze.

Is there an official name for the naturalistic, low key girly gang vibe that’s risen in K-pop over the last 18 months? We called it “New Cool” last year, and that’s exactly what tripleS are serving on “Rising”, a tight hug of self-belief that sashays, sunglasses on, hand in hand with her besties. The “la la la” refrain, languid harmonies and cooed ad-libs, the subtle effects that dart in and out like dragonflies – for such a considered production, it’s dastardly short in length but in unpacking all its finer points, you only fall harder for it.

From synth-pop to rock pop to alt R&B, rapper and vocalist YongYong has a thrilling, consistency-be-damned approach to genre in her music, and “Cheetos” arrives from yet another new place. But even standing at the intersection of its influences – hip hop, house, pop, even ballroom – doesn’t really provide a suitable definition for this song, which never stays in one place. It’s euphoric, drifting and dream-like but also imperious, cool and intimidating. There’s no way to escape its swirling, heady thump but absolutely no reason to want to either.

A member of 3rd gen boy group B.A.P and, more recently, a contestant on survival show Peak Time, Jong Up’s first post-show EP, SOME, is a lesser-known gem amongst the avalanche of 2023 releases. His legacy as a dancer has always been weightier than as a vocalist but “X.O.X” swings that balance – his voice punching through the pre-chorus, adorned elsewhere with a husky edge that holds court over the rubbery bass – as its driving groove offers the perfect spotlight for his feline prowess on the stage.

If there’s an afterlife, then surely Kepler and Galileo – two of history’s most celebrated astronomers – are not at all questioning their presence in K-pop but waving telescopes to the sheer exuberance of “Galileo”. But that exuberance is also carefully crafted, with the writers and members using precise restraint in all the right places, clearly unwilling to relinquish it to the realm of cheesy. It stays tightly focused, zipping about on funk basslines and puffy pink clouds, a gold-standard cut of the bubblegum pop that K-pop has excelled in for decades.

The drum & bass on “Super Shy” is an utterly accurate representation of having an enormous crush, its jittery rhythms like the feelings in your stomach whenever you see them. Though not even two years old, NewJeans, their vocals light but nuanced and controlled, are already absolute masters at depicting life’s heart-fluttering moments. What they want to demand of their crush is to “wait a minute while I make you mine” but in reality they’re wishful and wistful – “You don’t even know my name, do ya?” – a realisation that, no matter your age, stabs little pins into your heart.

The final member of Blackpink to go solo, Jisoo was undoubtedly going to lean into the cool sophisticated side of her personality that makes her such a perfect match to Dior as an ambassador. But while the single, “Flower”, was minimalist and delicate, “All Eyes On Me” proved to be its warmer, more demanding and much pacier sister. Depending on your mood, it could be petulant one day and outrageously confident the next, but the drama embedded into the pre-chorus and the bouncing lift of the chorus keeps on delivering. 

Debate sprang up around the choreography, lyrics and video’s complexity and themes, and what Taemin truly wanted to convey on “Guilty”. Was it, fans discussed, simply putting a toxic relationship in the firing line? Was it a story of pain and survival by an artist who debuted at 14 in a cutthroat industry? How did it draw on work by Herman Hesse and Georges Bataille?  Whether you consume “Guilty” at surface level or unpack the complicated and sometimes unsettling inspirations, Taemin’s seering vocal performance will stamp into your thoughts for a very long time.

“Heart” may sound louche with its Weeknd-esque, lost-in-the-Hills vibes, but its foundation is raw memories of his breakup with HyunA: “Tonight again, on a night without you, I’m looking for someone who looks like you again, I’m still getting over you,” he sings, encapsulating the hazy sensation of being heartbroken, standing on the outside looking in at the world. Subsequently, “Heart”, though slinky with a pulsing bass, feels like aloneness. That’s not a bad thing. It’s a balm-like song, numbing some of the pain long enough to take the first steps from was to what’s to come.

Kang Daniel has spent a good portion of his solo material wrestling with demons, internal and external, and “SOS” slides further into the darkness: “I don’t wanna know, the more I know, the more I suffer, The tip of a tongue is as sharp as a knife… I’m still lost, Looking for a blueprint to my soul”. Kang harnesses his angst to moody rock riffs that bluster beneath the chorus, but “SOS” is also a promise to survive and thrive, and he counteracts each moment of weariness with a defiance that makes his continuing journey a fascinating one.

“Medusa” takes cues from driving pop anthems like Katy Perry’s “I Kissed A Girl” and 5SOS’s “Youngblood” but strips back its production, tasking the main thrust to brusque synth drums. It’s an opportunity Just B take full advantage of, turning the pacey simplicity into a playground across which to strut their considerable vocal chops. It hooks you in tight, making the bridge, where “Medusa” fully opens the stadium anthem throttle with a yowling guitar solo, an extra gratifying whomp of an ending.

It’s hard to believe “Blame It On Me” is a B-side. It’s practically cinematic: Imagine a sleepy bar in a dustbowl town where TWICE arrive in pickup trucks, do shots, and perform this countrified pop vocal stomper with its to-die-for chorus on a rickety stage. The bar’s patrons shift into their demon forms, and TWICE’s leader, Jihyo, uses a flamethrower to set everything alight, the band escaping out back and barring the doors. The place goes up in a magenta explosion and they leave a note reading, blame it on me. If a song doesn’t have this kind of mentally transportive ability, it’s doing itself all wrong.

“Feel Me”’s celebration of finding acceptance and perfection in things around us that cannot be changed also contains a certain degree of reflectiveness, making its biggest firework – a hugely propulsive rock chorus – also bittersweet. The melodic jubilance alone is impressive enough but elevating this single to loftier heights is the immaculate production and pacing, which never really takes a foot off the gas even in its quietest moments, pulling you along in a comforting, wonderfully warm grip.

The first 30 funk-soul-disco-showstopping seconds of “Standing Next To You” is a clear indication of Jung Kook’s ambitions, which have always been as stratospheric as his musical heroes. It’s no surprise then that no matter where you look on this track there are imprints of pop megastars past and present, from Michael Jackson to Shalamar, Daft Punk to Bruno Mars. But Jung Kook, too, is a consummate showman; the flashier the brass, the harder the drums, the more he dazzles as a performer, and on “Standing Next To You” he is incandescent.

ITZY are no strangers to guitars but with “Psychic Lover” they scratch at punk-pop and get one of their best songs in return. Hanging on a playful chorus, it throws itself about joyfully, celebrating a friends to lovers arc that’s not bogged down by consideration and rationale but has sprung to life through an intoxicating chemistry and total impulsiveness. “Psychic Lover” evokes secret smooches, private jokes, and running down deserted streets at midnight, a precise snapshot of a brief moment in life that you remember forever. 

“Broken Melodies”, which nods to the big, chanted One Direction-style chorus, might be a little off-piste for NCT Dream but that’s moot given the song’s intense scale, crooning verses, chants, goosebump-inducing ad libs, and a pace-switching rapped bridge which hurls you into the final, glorious chorus. There’s even a canny joke thrown in by cutting the titular refrain from the first chorus to break its own melody. Designed to make you feel to the point of combustion, this is the quintessential soundtrack for a teen film classic not yet made.

Stray Kids’ singles might make them one of K-pop’s loudest groups but their B-sides demonstrate their numerous facets as writers and producers. “Cover Me” is a glimmering pearl in the ROCK-STAR jewellery box, a near-ballad that chronicles being caught in soul-emptying sadness. Its simple wishes – “I want to close my eyes, look at the sunlight and smile” – are poignantly heartbreaking but “Cover Me”, with its soaring chorus, has a pathos that’s resilient rather than maudlin, holding out a reassuring hand to anyone struggling even if it hasn’t found all the answers for itself yet.

“Honestly” will have you damp-eyed as you dance, a song laced with a pensive understanding that people and relationships can be incredibly difficult, and that the whole falling for someone thing isn’t always a movie-esque whirlwind of flowers and candle-lit dinners, but a slow, cautious game of guesswork and hope. Limelight steps off the straightforward EDM beat, their vocals both girlish and grown up, turning “Honestly” into a luminous moment in which everything could work out just the way you pictured it.

Laced with bubblegum harmonies, wry relatability and main character vibes, “Cupid”s universal appeal made it one of the smartest pop moments of the year, and one of its most viral with 696 million streams for the English ‘Twin version’ and over 8 million uses on TikTok. Virtually unknown prior, Fifty Fifty became the K-pop group to watch only for the fairytale to be cut short by an increasingly messy legal battle with their agency, their eventual implosion a bitter reminder of the industry’s uglier side.

“In Bloom” is wildly in love with young love: “The very first and very last love, The highlight of my life and my reason to keep going is you”. And in one of the stranger combinations of the year, an astute interpolation of A-ha’s “Take On Me” paired to a fizzier interpretation of drum & bass makes “In Bloom” an exhilarating, fatigue-resistant seesaw between a frolic and a sprint. From the melting pre-chorus and springy ad-libs, to all the bouquets, heart-shaped clouds and frothy white shirts one could want in a video, its charms are abundant and irresistible.

There might not be a single Brit on the writing credits but classic house pianos, vocal samples, and a spongy chorus layered with twitchy blips and tight hi-hats puts “Fast Forward” right alongside offerings by UK dance giants like Gorgon City or Jax Jones. It bears a single-minded desire to lure you onto the dancefloor but Somi digs her nails into the Teflon-slick production with a vocal that’s equal parts frustrated tension and campy flourish, taking it from quick twirl under the mirrorball to a Tecktonik-reviving, shout-along shaker. 

Key’s belted confession – “Promise you won’t forget, I’m the killer / Breakup that was cruel /Pull the trigger / Your heart I shattered” – over throbbing, racing synthwave is neither boast nor apology. Haunted by his actions, he’s so paralysed by guilt and regret that each time he looks towards the light, his psyche wrenches him back into the dark. That Key’s charisma and performance can illuminate even the most rayless of places makes “Killer” even more compelling, for behind the veil of glitter is a starkly lit portrayal of someone stripping meat from their own bones.

IVE continue to flourish with their ‘chaebol crush’ concept but looking impossibly expensive is only half of it. IVE’s musical signature is a pristine crispness, like 700-thread Egyptian cotton sheets and wine glasses so thin they resonate at the lightest touch. “I AM” is no exception, with delicate vocals that climb and swoop over a razor-sharp arrangement. The violet tinges of melancholy, particularly on the pre-chorus, are unexpected yet heighten everything around it, helping it soar as one of the year’s most glittering of serotonin rushes.

Herman Hesse’s Demian continues to cast a philosophical shadow over K-pop. Here the titular character is cast as someone whom Dreamcatcher have met, whose words change their world view, sowing distrust in themselves. That fall into murkiness is swift, executed on the first verse as funk bass transmutes into their signature rush of heavy rock on the chorus. Dreamcatcher thrash and pine equally but their Demian plagues them – “I see you at the end of the world, on the other side of the road” – in a relationship they try so hard to be free of yet are invariably bound to forever. 

ATEEZ has always loved playing it big. Big ideas, big choruses, power notes and pyrotechnics, and yet “Bouncy” somehow manages to be more. Towering walls of skittering electronica and effects shove up against the band’s natural voices and they push back like a scrum, synthesised handclaps whipping towards a chorus that drops like a building demolished by explosion. It’s a lot, and it’s glorious, and although “Bouncy” doesn’t take itself too seriously, that it makes you feel like you’ve been blasted into the sky with your hair on fire absolutely commands respect.

Xdinary Heroes are constantly mining new pockets of inspiration and while “Freakin’ Bad” opens with a posturing bassline, a retread of the 80s turf on last year’s “X-MAS”, it fast amalgamates into a brilliantly bratty chorus that kicks over everything in sight. The more unexpected moments – a guitar solo mid-song, the organ breakdown, and bridge’s expanded melodies – offer plenty of added dimension, highlighting how far this two-year-old band has come and how much they’ve yet to offer.

“Who Knows” is a seismic “fuck you” to the judgemental masses. The sneer of “I am living the way I please, what’s your problem? Who exactly are you?” over waves of scuzzy guitars and a loping, insolent bass manifests both the flamboyance of Led Zeppelin and the snotty, sweaty energy of a glam band dodging bottles thrown by rednecks. There are numerous feisty moments on the OO-LI EP but they don’t come close to the intensity of WOODZ bellowing the refrain of “Who Knows” off its bridge with a ragged, furious frustration. 

“Welcome to MY World”, a pre-release from their Spicy EP, keeps its fingertips in the idea of aespa’s futuristic alt-worlds but the slow build is almost archaic by K-pop’s bells and whistles tendencies. Still, it proves the perfect foil for aespa’s plentiful vocals, hypnotically unfurling alongside swells of strings that eventually explode off the bridge like a shower of golden sparks. Sounding less like the heavy digitisation of KWANGYA and more like a dystopian Bond theme, it’s an outlier in their discography and one to be grateful for.

There are plenty of historical and contemporary K-pop girl group influences fed into “Flirting” that, at times, gives it a not-unwelcome sense of homage but mimiirose, a group still in their infancy, carve their own name into the sound, particularly vocalist Yewon, who takes an already deeply satisfying chorus and turns it forlorn, lovesick and threatening all at once. It’s a good girl disguised as a bad girl who plays a bad guy at his own game, and the small, nifty Pied Piper references in the lyrics make it all the more enjoyably ominous.

TWICE’s Jihyo stepped into her solo era and stamped her Timbaland boot hard onto the bouncy, uncomplicated beat of “Killin’ Me Good”. Her delivery creates the song’s plentiful parries and curves as she tells the story of an impossibly electric relationship, the kind where you cannot keep your hands off each other. But it’s the timbre of her voice that sells this the hardest, a slightly hoarse knowingness that perfectly conveys the downfall of ‘killin’ me good’, from being a very good thing indeed to embodying a total emotional flatline.

Kiss of Life, who debuted in July, are unflinching in highlighting issues such as bullying, domestic abuse and assault in their videos, including that for “Nobody Knows”, which acts as a narrative companion piece to the video for lead single, “Bad News”. But the track itself explores a reluctance to be in an super-couply relationship and, rather, the desire to keep things on the lowdown in a situationship that’s entirely on their own terms. It’s jazzy and coquettish, with a pop diva-meets-Chicago performance that’s smooth, unhurried and refined.    

BTS’s Suga, who turned 30 this year, samples Kim Kwang-Seok’s “Around Thirty” – a touching inward look at hitting the milestone age – but directs his gaze outward instead. While always an engaging storyteller, his observations land more sharply than ever: “What is the point of fighting among ourselves, I tell you, our spearheads should be directed upwards”. The frame of “Polar Night” – its strings, and bluesy bass and guitar – might be beautifully ornate but the reflection it contains of a hypocritical, short-sighted society in disintegration is a soberingly ugly one.

Following your dreams is hard. Hell, even getting out of bed some days is hard. H1-KEY understands the struggle to upright in the face of adversity in a resounding, 00s-esque pop song, their message one of pragmatism over pitiful – “I can hate but nothing will change” – and tenacity over surrender – “I’m a rose among the concrete, Until this bleak city becomes filled with colour, I’ll keep my head up, stand my ground until the very end”. Sweet but gritty, “Rose Blossom” has all the makings of a quiet classic.

Hard-wired to worm inside your brain and begin looping “I’m sorry, bubble bubble bubble” at any time of the day like a switch being flicked, this is K-pop at the uber glossy, candy-coated, hyperactive end of its spectrum. The synths whizz and STAYC fizz right alongside them, holding court with what makes high octane songs like this really work – vocal performances that aren’t just durable and energetic but wide-ranging in their colour, racing from peachy cute to punch-packing. Now get dancing, bubble bubble bubble.

Audiences have had a love-it-or-hate-it affair with the band’s output – which mixes often clashing styles and genres – but “Rollercoaster” streamlines its influences with intent. In keeping with its title, the focus is on balanced dips and rises, and driving constant momentum by shifting the bridge forward and eschewing long verses in favour of the pre-chorus and chorus. Here the subtle disco and elastic-y house hits a sweet spot for a buoyant and confident-sounding NMIXX, who make this record into a little ray of sunshine.

The titular fall on this B-side from their fourth mini-album Karma isn’t merely the giddy slide into a crush. PIXY are completely obsessed, a downward spiral so intense that it erases their self-identity, their devotion blinding them. For some, such total submission makes this a horror story disguised as a pop song but “Falling” – unrelentingly seductive with airy vocals and atmospheric synth-pop – sees PIXY purposefully disappearing deeper into oblivion, finding freedom through the abandonment of everything else.

ENHYPEN’s vampire concept underpins swathes of their discography, including this year’s “Sweet Venom” and “Bite Me”, but never has it been paired with something as extravagantly moody as “Criminal Love”. Released to soundtrack their parallel webtoon project (Dark Moon: The Blood Alter), it easily stands alone nevertheless, a slow-simmering ache of a song on which ecstasy and agony are one and the same. ENHYPEN move sinuously between sounding deliriously ethereal and warningly hoarse but always impossibly, intoxicatingly needy.

Seventeen, as the story goes, saw a non-Korean speaking fan comment “I don’t understand but I love you” on one of their livestreams in 2022, and a year later the band’s performance team (Hoshi, Jun, The8, and Dino) would helm this B-side on FML. But what was cute as a comment is reimagined as secretive and sensual on record (“Only inside of you, I’m a blooming flower, spread the fire”), led by a serpentine guitar riff and a reverential vocal that intensifies the song’s intimacy, the aural equivalent of full body worship.

Once one of Seoul’s coolest music and art areas, Hongdae has become a gentrified cliche of itself. BIBI, voice sweet but pen sharp, moves amongst its mixture of decay and survival instinct, loving and hating it simultaneously. She views her existence in the same way – “A worn-out neighbourhood with no teeth, expensive prices for no reason, looks like me / It seems like it’s broken.. / An empty soul that is missing something” – but can’t bring herself to leave, melting into the night’s intoxicating, neon-washed embrace with a breathy reluctance.

Few could deliver effortless beauty on a song whose instrumental isn’t much more than a warm ambient bath, and where the protagonist has fallen in love so deeply that they exist isolated, starving for the touch of their lover and willing to wait at the bottom of sunless oceans for it. But the challenges “Let Me In” presents are simply launchpads for EXO to take full flight, fully immersing you in vocals that glide from dreamily enveloping to powerfully longing.