When DEAN unexpectedly dropped the acoustic version of “Howlin’ 404,” he reintroduced fans to the power and subtle genius of his voice.
*sigh* So this is the thing about DEAN. In my estimation he doesn’t make bad music. There have been instances where I’ve just not been a fan. But at the end of the day, everything he creates has a vision. A mission to say something relevant with intention.
When he dropped “Howlin’ 404” at the end of May, I was truly impressed. For many, the “pop” appeal is hit or miss. In fact, I’m acutely aware that many people prefer DEAN when he drunk rampages about love lost (a la “Bonnie and Clyde” and “Pour Up”). This new permutation of him as a troubadour trapped in a never-ending loop of introspective melancholy has many people either sighing in something resembling annoyance or ignoring his newer work altogether.
What’s the line? “Tale as old as time”? Since pop music has been a thing, since pretty boys with even prettier voices have been a phenomenon, factions of their “fans” have lost interest as artistic vision (and thus overall tone) has shifted from catchy bops to something significantly darker and more cerebral. DEAN ain’t special in that regard, y’all. I’d argue that his shift has been so significant that people honestly think he’s doing it for attention. That he’s changed for the sake of shaking some sort of K-pop expectation flung on him by the masses. To a certain extent, the latter is true. We’ve seen that more overtly with choices in wardrobe, hair, etc.
However, my loves, the actual musical shift we see in DEAN’s choices has so much more to do with the internal than anything superficial. Yes, his music has seemingly become darker. But no one has actually stopped to consider the why of it all. If they have, it’s no more than a blip on their radar as they either fawn over or bemoan what might be considered his “emo” phase.
Then about a week ago DEAN dropped the acoustic version of “Howlin’ 404” on the world. No fanfare. Hell, he didn’t actually say anything about it. People went to bed on Thursday. Early Friday morning, there was this veritable bomb dropped on his VEVO channel.
Let me tell you something. When his voice hits the very first note of the song, my heart stopped. Call me an overemotional fangirl if you want to. That’s not going to change the very visceral reaction I had when I heard him swoop in practically a cappella. Takes me back to the emotions I felt when I first listened to (and every subsequent listen afterward) Frank Ocean’s “Seigfried.” Utter heartbreak. Sheer emotional brokenness.
On its own, “Howlin’ 404” is his most introspective, self-searching song since “Instagram.” Yes, it’s dark. In a nutshell confessing that he’s trapped in a vicious cycle of desire–self-loathing–desire. That when he’s caught in this wonderland of oftentimes self-inflicted but always acute pain, he’s incapable of keeping himself sober. Whether that’s a metaphor (which he’s wont to use liberally in his music, especially visually) or an unabashed confession is still up for interpretation. The fact that he decided to release this acoustic rendition of the song suggests that he is trying to unburden his heart. That he’s attempting with the wail in his tone to purge his soul of something that he hasn’t been able to shake since somewhere around the release of “Instagram.”
This is where things become incredibly emotional for me. This is honestly the rawest I’ve heard DEAN vocally in a very long time. His live performances for me have been hit or miss. Yes, there’s a difference between watching live and watching on a computer screen. But passion, technique, and actual emotional stake translate.
My main gripe with him for the past year or so has been his insistence on using a backing track instead of a live band in his performances. In my opinion, singing over instrumentals of his limited discography has sucked the passion out of him. It certainly hasn’t forced him to stretch his vocal skill set as working with organic instrumentation would.
There are moments when you can tell he’s got something on his mind and a particular song just awakens it. Consider this performance of “Instagram” in Manila. Or any time he performs someone else’s music (Corinne Bailey Rae’s “Like a Star”; Daniel Caesar’s “Won’t Live Here”). However, by and large I’ve not felt any of the passion of say when he performed with a full band at RESFFECT in 2016. Or more recently his interpretation of N.E.R.D.’s “Sooner or Later” at Seoul Jazz Festival. But again… not his song.
Then he drops this acoustic version of “Howlin’ 404.” I’ve not heard him stretch his range in such a long time. Heard him put his entire being into singing. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I believed him. In that belief, I felt an uncanny sadness. I’ve not been able to shake it since I first listened to this rendition.
A parking garage is apt. In its own way it’s a void. An empty space that seems endless (we don’t actually see the exit for this place). It works even further to illustrate the solitude (read: isolation) he feels at this very moment. The fact he’s in a space that ricochets his voice off every surface further throws him in a spiral. He’s howling in a wolf’s agony. (The wolf howls when he’s lost his pack, hoping they’ll respond so he can find them.) However, the only howls that come back to DEAN are his own.
There’s a teardrop in his voice here that utterly breaks me every time I listen to the song. On its own “Howlin’ 404” already illustrates his vocal dexterity. But obviously stripping away the digital nuances he intentionally brought to the single does the job of highlighting just how powerful his voice is. Many sometimes jokingly point out the feather-lightness of his tone. How there’s something utterly gentle in the way he delivers his falsetto.
However, in “Howlin’ 404” (particularly this version of it) we’re made even more aware of his actual technique. He uses breath so expertly. Allowing silence to fill spaces that in the past he’s been prone to fill with unnecessary melismatic twists and turns. Here, we’ve got a man that’s just singing. For his very life. His voice utterly brims that entire space, from wall to wall. Love or hate the song for what it represents, with just his voice and a guitar, DEAN has proven just how much power he’s capable of.
When he strips away all pretense, he’s actually quite gifted. To slide from head voice (at the height of the howl) to chest voice (when the howl crests) without a single crack takes incredible control. He opts for almost no vibrato in this performance. He goes for a pure vocal (a la Sade), further stamping the song’s emotional depth. Less pretty. More dirt under the nails. Gritting his teeth. Eyes closed. Fists clenched. Singing from the diaphragm to give us a fuller, rounder delivery. There are no gaps in this performance. Every nook and cranny has the complete breadth of his voice. When he leaves his falsetto and goes for a full-throated tenor, it’s like a punch to the gut.
DEAN absolutely sings this song with his entire chest. A cute phrase it might be. However, it couldn’t be a more apt description. What you might have forgotten in the interim between his debut album and this very moment is that DEAN is actually a singer. He’s got range and a hypnotic way to stretch his vocals when there’s truth behind them. When the pulse of the song is his own heartbeat. When “DEAN” gets stripped down to the barest elements and we’re gifted a glimpse at Kwon Hyuk.
Thank you, DEAN. Thank you for sharing your truth with us. If only for three minutes and forty-seven seconds.