I want to swan dive down the rabbit hole into intense BTS fandom, which I’ve attempted to resist for the sake of my sanity but is becoming increasingly impossible to ignore, thanks to Sunday night’s Grammys.
BTS offered more than a performance to a Grammy night marred by perfectly decent but drowsy performances (not you, H.E.R., Lenny Kravitz, and Travis Barker!) during an overly-long awards ceremony at a time when awards programs are becoming increasingly unimportant, BTS brought more than a performance. They wrested me from dullness and thrust me into rapture with their nominated bop “Butter” in Bond-themed theatre. Each of these men—Jin, Suga, J-Hope, R.M., Jimin, V, and Jungkook—is a skilled showman who has been totally engaged to the espionage notion since Jungkook fell from the ceiling on a wire, seemingly easily despite having recently recovered from COVID-19.
Meanwhile, in Las Vegas, the wonder guys had penetrated the audience’s little cocktail tables, and V was peering carefully into Olivia Rodrigo’s eyes before slyly speaking in her ear, a scenario wilder than fan fiction that quickly shattered the collective pop-musical brain. This may have been true to some extent, but these people have undeniable chemistry and should certainly work right away? (When asked about fantasy red carpet collaborations, V had previously told E! “Olivia.”)
When BTS took the stage, they erupted into song and smooth, flowing dance movements in a V-formation that put BSB and 1D—and certainly NKOTB—to shame. BTS dominated every inch of the stage before being joined by a chorus of guys in black, discarding their suit coats and miraculously tying them together like ropes, and slithering beneath the laser light field in secret agent style.
BTS combines the qualities of a pop star and a movie star into a single package. They radiate energy, enthusiasm, and amazement, as well as a feeling of cool that goes beyond the cliched boy-band stereotype. They don’t have the feeling of being slapped together in a show-biz test tube. In this septet, there are no weak connections. Everyone is captivating, engaging, and lovely, like R.M., who told Grammy host Trevor Noah that he learned English through Friends. He joked, “Friends is my English parents,” adding that he is a Chandler. It’s no surprise that they have a rabid global following. Various members of the Grammy crowd were seen selfie-ing and stanning, including Lady Gaga, John Legend, and Donatella Versace.
I’m fully aware that falling under BTS’s enchanted spell is nothing new, and that millions of people all over the world have legitimately lost their minds for the group—also known as the Bangtan Boys—since their debut as a flannel-clad hip-hop act in 2013. With “Dynamite,” the K-pop superstars captured my heart, which, like Harry Styles’ “Watermelon Sugar,” acted as a wonderful, joyous antidote to the gloom of 2020. I’ll never forget blasting Trump on the last day of his presidency while dancing in my kitchen with my kid.
When BTS performed the song at the Grammys last year, concluding on the sparkling roof of the Los Angeles Convention Center, real celebrations were all but outlawed, but BTS were a party unto themselves, high-kicking away the weird sorrow of the epidemic and singing into shiny microphones. If you’re able to watch it without feeling compelled to dance, I’m afraid you’re a psychopath. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that BTS’s worldwide expansion occurred at a period of turmoil. (They are the first act since Michael Jackson to have five number one singles in the United States.) BTS “lit the night alight” and “delivered the fire” when fans needed it the most, to paraphrase “Dynamite.”
