What will it take for P-pop to truly rise?
Every week, PhilSTAR L!fe explores issues and topics from the perspectives of different age groups, encouraging healthy but meaningful conversations on why they matter. This is Generations by our Gen Z columnist Angel Martinez.
I first met BINI two years ago, while on assignment for a publication I was writing for. Their discography at the time was the same brand of Filipino-flavored bubblegum pop, and the girls exuded the same “barkadahan” energy that won over their beloved Blooms. So at the risk of sounding too parasocial, I must say that while seeing them sell out three days at the Araneta Coliseum this past week filled me with pride, it also sparked a deep curiosity within me.
What took them so long to ascend to fame, and why aren’t more P-pop performers and groups reaching similar heights by now?
To answer that, we have to engage in a bit of self-reflection. We weren’t always supportive of our local industry, especially during its infancy. “It cannot be denied that from then until now, P-pop has been viewed as merely imitating their Korean counterparts,” Andrea Anne Trinidad, a professor who taught an elective on P-pop at the Ateneo de Manila University, tells PhilSTAR L!fe.
As local acts began adopting the resonant elements of the K-pop genre, such as “their facial appearance—often associated with extreme fairness—clothing, and synchronized choreography,” Trinidad observed that our boy groups were accused of acting or being gay. It’s easy to see that the general public’s indifference towards this side of P-pop is rooted in both colonial mentality and two-pronged misogyny: failure to take women’s interests seriously, and blatant hatred towards anything that exudes machismo.
It had to take SB19’s Go Up dance practice for the first wave of Filipinos to come around. “This was the one that proved that ‘copying K-pop’ is not a merely superficial imitation of looks, but an embodiment of grit, discipline, rigor, and skill,” Trinidad explains. And, aren’t those traits already inherent to the average Filipino? We wear our elbow grease like a badge of honor and have embodied resilience even when the term can no longer be romanticized.
BINI, on the other hand, spearheaded the second coming with the release of Pantropiko, a summer anthem almost as vibrant as their members’ personalities. Contrary to the unattainable pedestal that K-pop idols occupy—exacerbated by the distance, language barrier, and cultural differences—these idols are certainly people, too, with the magnetism of the popular kid from school you never quite forget.
For Gen Z stans, celebrities need to exist beyond a merely conceptual level. Identifying with them allows us to discover more about ourselves and live vicariously through them. If BINI Jhoanna attended the same student journalism conference you joined in high school and emerged as one of the country’s biggest stars today, then maybe you can too, right?
But not much rooms have been created for everyone to shine. Without pointing fingers at any particular fandom, I must say that I’ve seen some of the word wars going around online and they’re petty. There seems to be an insatiable desire to be regarded as the most accomplished group, the group that paved the way, or the group that received recognition from this Western entity, even when our own idols have repeatedly implored us to uplift them collectively.
It’s not enough for one act to propel the entire P-pop industry into the mainstream consciousness. To imply this not only pits those who aren’t in the same league against each other, but also disempowers all the up-and-coming acts battling it out for a space on the world stage. We know about SB19 and BINI, but I don’t see enough people talking about the cultural authenticity of ALAMAT, the vocal prowess of G22, and the stage presence of VXON.
Of course, the responsibility doesn’t fall on the shoulders of supporters. An act is only as good as the team backing them, and unfortunately, we’ve borne witness to some instances of mismanagement. Whether it’s pushing certain singers to the backburner after one commercial failure, or passing on excessive costs to fans, these ill-advised moves further rather than fill the divide between stan and band.
An inherent part of being a P-pop fan is the unparalleled connection shared with an idol. “This connection, rooted in sincerity and shared values, is what allows artists to stand out and thrive with this generation,” Trisha Villegas, a music marketing consultant at HOMONYM Philippines, tells L!fe. But implementing subscription models with steep prices, removing the free content that served as a gateway for fans, and limiting their public interactions might not align with a group meant to represent and appeal to the masses.
Such limitations don’t exist within self-managed entities: “Like SB19, such acts have the freedom to shape their music and image the way they want,” Villegas shares. “Fans pick up on that. They know when an artist’s work is coming from the heart, which makes them more likely to stay loyal and supportive.” But of course, not everyone has the privilege of going solo, especially when institutional support is a pervasive issue.
A large part of K-pop’s worldwide success can be credited to the foresight of the Korean government, who recognized the economic potential of domestic creative content and invested in it accordingly. This included financial incentives and infrastructure development to support the production of new cultural properties, as well as the creation of educational institutions for the next generation of artists. But as Trinidad mentions, “The government is already failing to provide even the basic necessities to its people. Funding entertainment amid urgent issues such as food security, education, and disaster preparedness raises moral concerns.”
Fans are fully aware of these implications, and have been advocating for their favorites with the enthusiasm of a full-time employee. “They keep the momentum going through grassroots efforts like starting trends on social media, streaming music on repeat, and organizing fan events to show their love. Creating fan art, vlogging their gigs, joining online challenges, and making dance covers—these are all ways they keep the momentum alive,” Villegas shares.
That’s how the Gen Z stan seems to be built: We want to have a stake in the matter. We don’t only root for the underdog, we want to play an active part in reversing their fortune. And while just a few groups get to rise for now, at the very least, they’re enough to keep the industry afloat.
Generations by Angel Martinez appears weekly at PhilSTAR L!fe.