Make Believe Bonus: Coca-Cola K-Wave

"Zero Sugar goes full K-pop" look at what you've written, are you proud of yourself?

Back in 2011, a new generation of Korean pop acts were ascendent in Japan. That was the summer of Girls’ Generation becoming inescapable, of increased K-pop concerts across the country, of “the butt dance.” It was a thrilling moment in the history of Japanese and South Korean culture blurring — and clashing — and you could see it manifest itself outside of entertainment too.

The moment I knew the times were changing came via a fast food item. In the fall of 2011, McDonald’s Japan unveiled its “KBQ Burger.” This was a slightly beefier McDonald’s hamburger topped off with “sweet and spicy” bulgogi and finished with a wonderfully orange gochujang sauce. It’s arrival on the menu wasn’t a coincidence — it came after months of excitement over the last evolution of hallyu in Japan, and felt like an edible marker of culture in the continent changing. In a reminder of how digital media once had way too much money and space on its hand, I pontificated about the KBQ Burger shortly after its release for Esquire, getting paid a cool $50 USD to eat junk food.

Yes, it was just a limited-time burger, but the KBQ Burger carried metaphorical weight for this era of K-pop. It was exciting, it was attention-grabbing, it offered something out of the ordinary compared to what was popping in Japan at the time (get outta here shrimp burger, there’s a new combo around!). Hell, in the same way that K-pop aesthetics have blurred with J-pop over the years, that traffic-cone-orange sauce introduced with the burger has stuck around, most notably as the go-to condiment on the chain’s “Spicy McChicken burger.”

Over a decade later, we get another gut-destroying symbol of K-pop’s place in Japan and the world. Once again, it’s fitting for the state of the industry — though not quite as satisfying as what came before.

I came across Coca-Cola K-Wave at a Family Mart in Shibuya last week, completely unaware of its existence until glancing at the drink cooler. “What the fuck is this, hallyu cola?” I thought. Yes. Yet I didn’t know that until later, as I had seen no promotion behind this variation of Coca-Cola Zero. I’m the ideal demographic for a product like this, too. I follow multiple social media accounts devoted to highlighting new convenience store items, and also drink Coca-Cola Zero at a rate that has surely taken years off of my life. I bought a bottle, and cracked it open on the walk back to the train station.

I do not come to bash the intersection of K-pop and carbonated pop. I cover J-pop for god’s sakes, so I know how commercial demands serve as the catalyst for creative work. Some of my favorite pop of the 2010s is thinly veiled celebrations of cell phones and curry. Korean entertainment is entangled in all the same tie-ups, and some of them rule — some days, I think former Momoland member JooE’s “Tropicana Sparkling songs” are among the best K-pop of the 21st century.

Coca-Cola itself does plenty in spaces I’m familiar with — they got tofubeats to sing a ballad! — and none of us will deny the pure banger that is “I Feel Coke.” It does feel like recently the brand has been especially active in Asian pop, particularly K-pop in a…jarring way. Girl group NMIXX’s debut single “O.O” is one of the most left-field intros any Korean project has ever served up, basically being three songs stitched together. Exhilarating music…undercut by constant references to Coca-Cola Zero, including early line “Check out / popcorn and Zero coke.” Following the release of two certified modern pop masterpieces, NewJeans returned with…a celebration of the same no-sugar soda. (Note to paid subscribers: scroll down for your exclusive content, where I share a hot take about this song).

Coca-Cola K-Wave aims for synergy between K-pop and caffeinated beverages. I initially assumed this was a Japan-only offering, tapping in to the country’s love of Korean artists. The relatively tasteful promotional site celebrates the rise of hallyu while also presenting fans the chance to attend a concert in Seoul if…they drink enough soda? Your wallet might not like resale sites, but your intestines will. Yet it soon became clear — this is a global effort, tapping into the bubbly good vibes of the South Korean music industry.

Yet it offers a bold new premise. When K-pop was enjoying a boom in 2011 and company’s capitalized in Japan after, they turned to Korean signifiers. The KBQ Burger rode the hallyu wave, but focused on familiar Korean flavors and tangible culinary creations from that culture. Coca-Cola K-Wave, meanwhile, should probably be tied up with HYBE, because it’s leaning into Bang Si-hyuk’s “K-pop without the K” vision.

I urge you to read the English-language Coca-Cola K-Wave site so that you can join me in having your brain cells killed one by one by advertising schlock of the highest order. “Taste the Fruity Fantasy and celebrate the devotion of K-Pop fans with Coca‑Cola® K-Wave.” “This one’s for you, K-Pop lovers. We’ve bottled that universal starstruck feeling when you see your idols in real life.” “Coca Cola® K-Wave is everything K-Pop in one place.” Even for advertising, this is saying nothing at all.

Whereas a little over a decade ago goofy K-pop-adjacent foodstuffs actually acknowledged the country the “K” stands for with their ingredients, Coca-Cola K-Wave uses its ad copy to talk about the concept of K-pop fandom that was the foundation of pretty much all English-language writing about the industry in the late 2010s. This could be useful when exploring the cultural and economic impact of K-pop, or it could be extremely embarrassing when used to justify juvenile boosterism passed off as “journalism” and cringey when grappling with politics, which was especially trendy in 2020. How did that turn out? Credit to Coca-Cola…they at least got actual Korean artists from JYP to promote this drink.

*rubbing forehead extensively, sighing loudly*

As the above copy implies, Coca-Cola K-Wave takes the refreshing taste of Coke Zero and adds a “fruity fantasy” to the formula. This is extremely vague, and after drinking it, the best I can sum up the taste is that K-Wave is trying to replicate the idea of what the concept of fruit tastes like. It’s Coke Zero but…sorta tart? The Food Network posits the most prominent note is banana, but I didn’t get that — artificial banana flavor is unmistakable, you know when that putrid taste hits your tongue. This soda just tastes sort of…sour? I’ve had multiple opportunities to get it again and I pass it up every time…even with the knowledge I could do a post like this. It sucks, give me the original formula everyday.

While I would like to never drink it again, I do think Coca-Cola K-Wave captures the current state of K-pop well, in a way that isn’t purely negative. I think there’s a lot of confusion at play — what even *is* K-pop in 2024 when the “K” part of it is being discarded? what the hell fruit did they put in here? — but I also find an eagerness to reassert itself and return to a simpler time of celebration of music / visuals / aesthetics that is actually pretty praise worthy after a five-year period of BTS-inspired hyperbole that treated a pop group as like, a Nobel-Prize-worthy breakthrough. Coca-Cola K-Wave and its marketing is a mess, but it also really wants you, the consumer, to know how nifty K-pop is. That’s kind of the vibe I’m getting from those who write about the industry regularly…they feel like they are really selling this music towards followers, because they think it deserves attention…and correctly have picked up on the fact most outlets aren’t as excited about it now¹. Which is a bummer because it is pretty exciting right now, though I’m not sure anything associated with this beverage should be part of that conversation.

Coca-Cola K-Wave is the taste of enthusiasm…and like old apples…for an industry that still has a lot of good ideas left in it, but one presented in a way that is too general, forgetting that people are drawn to it because it emerged out of a specific place with a specific culture. They should revisit the classics of culinary K-pop to see how to actually sell this to the world.

OK, now to rank the four artists tied up with this soda…and more ~ opinions ~ for premium subscribers! I don’t want Stray Kids fans attacking me, after all, pony up.