Make Believe Bonus: Put It On Ice, Bitch, Dr. Pepper

My Failed Attempt To Interview CL A Decade Ago

The sun is setting over Seoul's Olympic Stadium and all eyes focus on CL on the eve of her efforts to become a global superstar. First, though, she gives the crowd at Ultra Korea 2015 some of the songs that brought her to this point.

She rips through some of the biggest songs from the 2NE1 catalog, getting the thousands amassed on a field hopping along to “Fire” and “Come Back Home,” cuts that by the midpoint of the decade have helped introduce K-pop to the world. At this point, though, the question has become “who will truly crossover,” which is actually code for “who can make it big in the United States.” The best candidate at this moment in time is on stage, while giant inflatable versions of her Korean label YG’s bear mascot Krunk get batted around by the crowd.

Midway through, we get a glance of how CL will try to do that. The music shifts from uptempo to an icier beat, with the words “Doctor Pepper” flashing on screen. She performs the just-released song named after the carbonated drink, the mood changing across the grassy area. While everyone still seems in to it, the energy is a little more subdued. Some people seem more focused on where the big balloon bear heads are.

It’s short, and CL returns to a setlist built around songs the people here know, capped off by a solo take on 2NE1’s “I Am The Best” that has everyone’s attention.

I was among the people watching CL perform at an EDM-heavy festival in South Korea about ten years ago, seeing this moment — right ahead of K-pop’s most promising name in terms of making it in the American market actually going all in on said effort. For me, it would be the central scene showing just how poised she was to make this happen in a feature I had been commissioned by Pitchfork to write highlighting K-pop’s biggest swing to date. The actual atmosphere outside the Olympic Stadium would have made for some great details before getting to the heart of the piece, an interview with CL herself.

Watching her on stage at Ultra Korea, though, would end up being as close as I’d get to that. This performance was the high point in my effort to write about CL’s “American dream,” an undertaking that would last five months total and yield nothing. Yet looking back, one of my journalistic white whales proved to be a bit of career crossroads moment. It’s also a peak back into a lost era for Asian pop music on the global stage.