봄이 좋냐

10cm's genius is understatement weaponized into devastation, and this track is the sharpest example of that approach. The instrumentation is deliberately minimal — an acoustic guitar that sounds like it's being played in someone's kitchen, a voice that sounds like it hasn't decided whether to laugh or cry about what it's describing. The song is addressed to spring itself, and the conceit is that spring's relentless cheerfulness — the blossoms, the warmth, the general insistence on renewal — is an affront to someone in the middle of heartbreak. The bitterness is so specific it becomes funny, and the humor is so precise it becomes genuinely sad. Lyrically it refuses the comfort of abstraction, instead cataloguing the exact sensory experiences that make seasonal affective grief intolerable. This kind of literary wit — ironic without being detached, sincere without being earnest — became the defining characteristic of Korean indie folk in the 2010s, and this song is its purest expression. You'd listen to it in April, looking out a window at something blooming, resenting it.