어푸

"어푸" — the Korean onomatopoeia for gasping up out of water — is the most physically kinetic thing on LILAC, and it swims. A slinky, bass-forward groove with syncopated funk guitar, watery synth textures and a percussion track that keeps skittering forward gives the song a genuine sense of buoyancy, of being pushed and pulled by current. IU's vocal is playful and rhythmic, sliding between clipped staccato phrases and long floating lines, using breath as an instrument; you can hear her enact the gasp. The lyric turns swimming into a metaphor for the effort of staying afloat: the water is where you're helpless and also where you're held, and the singer moves from the panic of going under to a kind of amused acceptance that she'll keep surfacing. It's the exhale after the anxious years, sung by someone who has decided that thrashing is a normal part of not drowning. As an album cut it's beloved by fans precisely because it isn't a title track — no lead-single obligations, just groove. It suits a summer evening, a long walk, or the particular relief of a bad week that has finally, undramatically, ended.