Some (썸 탈꺼야)

The Korean concept of 썸 (sseum) — that charged, uncertain space between friendship and romance where nothing has been said but everything is understood — has no clean English equivalent, and this song captures it better than perhaps anything else written about the subject. The arrangement is bright and playful, built on a guitar riff that has a teasing quality, light percussion that keeps things from feeling too earnest. Ann's voice here is particularly expressive: she shifts between playful and slightly exasperated, which is exactly right for the emotional register of the song — someone who is charmed and frustrated in equal measure, who wants things to stop being ambiguous but also loves the tension of the moment. The song captures the comedic embarrassment of desire that hasn't been named yet, the way someone can make you feel completely undone by doing almost nothing at all. The chorus has a skippy, almost impatient energy. Korean indie pop of this era had a gift for writing songs about the specific textures of young romantic experience, and this is one of its finest examples — not dramatic, not tragic, just honest about how confusing and exciting it is to be in the middle of something that hasn't resolved yet. Best played while overthinking a text message.