Who

Jimin's "Who" is a shimmering piece of guitar-forward pop built on a syncopated, almost Afro-pop lilt — a clean electric riff loops like a question repeating in a crowded room, and the drums stay light and brushed so the space never fills. The production leaves deliberate air: a bassline that walks rather than thumps, handclap-adjacent percussion, and a chorus that lifts on stacked falsetto harmonies rather than volume. Jimin's voice is the whole argument here — breathy in the verses, slipping into a high, plaintive register that carries longing without ever tipping into melodrama. The lyric premise is unusually tender for a hit of this scale: he's already in love with someone he hasn't met, addressing a stranger who exists only as a feeling, asking who they are and where they've been hiding. It's the loneliness of anticipation rather than loss. Culturally it landed as the emotional centerpiece of MUSE, a record made in the shadow of his military enlistment, which gave the yearning a real-world ache — a farewell disguised as a love song. It suits a walk home at dusk in early summer, or the specific restlessness of being alone in a city and half-believing that someone out there is walking toward you.