KIRARA / Courtesy of KIRARA

One of Korean electronica's leading names over the past decade has been KIRARA. The enigmatic musician has developed a stellar reputation for combining hard-hitting beats with surprisingly deep songwriting. Since the release of her debut album in 2014, the prolific producer has gone on to release four studio albums, eight EPs, two remix compilations and a live album. Her compelling output has seen her achieve something rare — appealing to both hardcore electroheads and indie rock kids alike.

Through her multitude of releases, she has created a specific sound — explosive dance music with a strong emotional resonance. Her distinctive style is immediately recognizable, yet despite this, each album has its own unique character. "I've used so many labels to describe the KIRARA sound," she explained, "and 'pretty, intense music that makes you cry and dance' was one I used for a long time. But I'm not as interested in describing my music with any labels anymore. Sometimes, as a musician, it can be helpful with audiences if you describe yourself in simplistic terms. But I'm not interested in that anymore. I'm over it."

After producing as much music as she has for as long as she has, the obvious question becomes — does KIRARA still get the same satisfaction from music that she did 10 years ago? "I don't feel like it's the best thing I do, but it's the most fun I have. There's never a shortage of new things I want to explore, and these days, I am really interested in collaborating with others. I also want to bring different sounds, like samba and bossa nova, into the KIRARA sound," she said. "But I do my music now not because it's fun but because it's what I do. Ten years ago, I made music because I was trying to find meaning in my life, and now I think I make music because it's a mature, professional attitude. It's still fun to make music, but I don't make music just for fun anymore."

KIRARA's musical journey began a decade ago with the album "rcts." While far from the producer's boldest work and somewhat underdeveloped, it shows KIRARA's immense potential. The 12-track album is full of idea-driven electro grooves, demonstrating KIRARA's panache for gorgeous chord progressions glitching over house beats. The best moments of "rcts" are in the "Thinking Trilogy": three back-to-back tracks that build from a minimal piano motif into a melancholic groover. It's here that KIRARA lays a lot of the groundwork for the music she will make in the future.

KIRARA, however, does not look back on the album with the same rosy view. "I think it was a very poorly made album, I think it was too one-dimensional, I think it was too raw, I think it was too unsophisticated, and I think it was too shallow. I have a song on that album called 'Please Take A Walk With Me When Flowers Bloom,' and the title feels so cringy now. But somehow or another, that album ended up being the first album under the KIRARA name, and that will never change, no matter how much I want to deny it."

KIRARA continued, "I think I'm always making better albums than before. My second album is better than my first album, my third album is better than my second album and my fourth album is better than my third album. I think my fifth album will be even better. I hope that people can compare 'rcts' to my fifth album and see the improvement. I always want to beat my past self. I don't love my first album, but I don't want to erase it either because it shows how far I've come."

KIRARA / Courtesy of KIRARA

She is not wrong about the progress she has made as a musician. Two years later, KIRARA released "moves," an album that delivers on the promise of her first. The album is, in every way, bigger. The songs feel fleshed out when compared to the first, and the crisp, stylish production makes the whole thing feel wildly more expansive. It also goes way harder than her earlier release, a trajectory that she would continue to this day. While there are moments of heart on moves, this is the closest that KIRARA has come to making a straight-banger album, with the whole thing having an exciting, driven feel.

It was during this time that KIRARA began gaining a reputation for her music and performances. She started remixing some of Korean indie's biggest names, like Shin Hae Gyeong, Flash Flood Darlings and Aseul. She also became celebrated for her incredible live shows, which saw her mix her music on stage while dancing with nuclear energy. This 2016-17 wave of success culminated with moves winning Best Dance & Electronic Album at the 2017 Korean Music Awards.

KIRARA / Courtesy of KIRARA

With her newfound notoriety, she began work on album No.3 — "Sarah." This release would not only solidify KIRARA's place in Korea's indie scene but also elevate her further, going on to become the producer's most popular album.

While "Sarah" draws from the same high-octane energy as her previous two albums, it is also her first time seriously exploring darker themes, and the whole thing has an undercurrent of melancholic introspection. KIRARA says that the bittersweet energy of her third album is an important part of it. "Sarah is about giving people hope," she said. "It's an album for people who want to die and about telling them not to. I think the reason why it has become my most popular album is because of that. Its positive message resonates with people. Songs like 'Worries' and 'Blink' are my most emotional songs."

The album's hopeful message may be the reason that it connected with audiences, but it is explored through the prism of KIRARA's trauma. "When I was making that album, I had a lot of LGBTQ friends around me, a lot of friends who were in music, and I had a lot of friends who were on the fringes of the world, outside the mainstream. When I was making 'Sarah,' all my friends seemed unhappy. Once, I had to send the police to a friend's house who left a worrying message online. There were days when we were all resentful, wondering why our lives felt so tragic, messed up and broken and why our families had abandoned us. I made a track called 'Worry,' and I developed the message of 'Worry' into one called 'Wish.' I was at a point where I would have made anything to stop people around me from killing themselves."

These days, however, KIRARA doesn't produce music for the purpose of healing those around her. "People are going to die no matter how much I worry or wish, so I don't want to use my music to comfort people anymore. That was too painful for me, and I no longer want to create my own hurt. My music isn't going to change the world. I just want to be happy right now, even if that happiness is just getting to eat some delicious chicken."

With this in mind, KIRARA began working on her next and most recent album, "4." Unlike her previous work, this album channels KIRARA's anger and frustration with the world and is, in some ways, a political album. Despite the anger involved, or perhaps because of it, "4" is a masterpiece. Everything about it beams with an insistence, a class and character that demands to be heard. It's an ear-bashing electro album with an absolute chasm of soul, depth and vibrancy.

KIRARA herself has described the album as her most political work, but she has since decided that label no longer fits. "I'm actually a little embarrassed about saying there's a political message on '4' because it's an album about a kid expressing their frustration with the world, not an album about daring to change the world. I just wanted to voice my anger; I wanted catharsis. I wanted to express my personal despair, but I didn't want to magnify that despair by talking about a certain group of people or taking shots at the world. As an openly transgender artist, my work can often too easily be seen as political, but I didn't want to use that to attack people, and I never want to play to people's expectations."

Which brings us to her most recent solo music. Her 2023 EP 'cts7' and 2024's 'cts8' are KIRARA finally making happy music, something which she says is symbolic of a fresh mindset. "One of the words I think about a lot these days is 'equanimity,'" she said. "I want to live in this world with my own equanimity now. I think it was only when I was in my 30s that I realized that I no longer wanted to live a life where I was so affected by the things around me, where I would giggle at the sight of a leaf rolling in the wind. I feel like I have a desire to be more in control of my life. My previous albums have been about the emotions I felt at the time, whether it's excited, sad or angry, but I no longer want to make albums like that. Like a lot of trans people, I'm a dark comedy person, but when you take the darkness away, there's simply comedy left. I want to make music that I can switch off and listen to. I'm definitely in a less emotional state than I was before, and I consider that a good place to be."

Being a trans musician puts KIRARA in a position that is extremely uncommon in Korea. The country's infamously conservative attitudes toward LGBTQ issues have meant that trans artists rarely step out into the spotlight, and when they do, they can often be overlooked. It is something that, according to her, has had a complicated impact on her career. "On a bad day, I think that being trans has affected my music career for the worse, but I don't know if that's true or if it's just stupid paranoia at that moment. In some ways, being transgender has made it easier for me to be seen as a certain kind of musician, and I'm not sure if that's worked for me or against me — but I've had a lot of moments where I think it's worked against me, and not a lot where I think it's worked for me. I don't like it when my minority is exploited, and if it's going to be exploited, I want it to be by me. These days, I'm still trying to make sure that happens. I want to be a musician who can keep my head straight and tell my story honestly."

KIRARA / Courtesy of KIRARA

During her time as a performer, KIRARA believes that she has seen little change in the treatment of trans people and that the only way for things to progress is with more representation and if a sense of community develops. "I don't think it has changed. I don't think the Korean music scene treats trans people differently than it did before. For people's attitudes to change, there has to be more music from trans artists, and I'm not sure that trans people have become a big enough part of the music scene yet," she said.

"What I've noticed about being transgender in this society is that most people don't really care about what others do, and people are generally nice. I don't think I've met many people who have malicious intentions towards me because I'm transgender. My hope is that there will be more open trans artists who become successful, and together, we can be part of a group with some connection that can help change things. I think that's my hope, and whether we're welcomed or ostracized by culture doesn't matter; I would welcome that togetherness unconditionally."

By discussing trans rights so openly and proudly, KIRARA has put herself in the position of being seen as an advocate or even an activist for the transgender community in Korea. It's a role that she has mixed feelings about.

"I often look at the society I live in and feel like it's wrong for me to exist," she said. "But that kind of mindset makes it hard to support myself, so I've done a lot of work to make this shameful life seem dignified. In doing so, I've unintentionally made myself look like a musician who talks about human rights. I'm also a transgender person suffering under the realities of Korea, so I think I'm always going to be an advocate for certain rights. Because I happen to be an artist by profession, and because I incorporate my life into my work and talk about being trans or whatever, I think I've inevitably taken on a certain role. Did I take on that role on my own, or did it happen to me? I'm not sure. Having a role in promoting the human rights of LGBTQA people in Korea seems to be my destiny. How can I accept this destiny in better ways going forward? Finding the answer to that question seems to be the biggest challenge for the rest of my musical life. I hope I'm not alone in this, but it can feel kind of lonely."

KIRARA / Courtesy of KIRARA

The ever-fierce KIRARA is proud of who she is and will always refuse to hide the fact that she is trans, yet she works hard to make sure it is not the defining feature of her story. "I want to be remembered for the fact that I'm a musician who is fucking good at music more than the fact that I'm transgender," she said. "I don't know how to erase the fact that I'm transgender, so I'm going to try to be fucking good at music instead. That's why I want to make a fucking record, and I'm going to have to work hard to make that record, to make money and to find my equanimity. I think I know how and where to do that. I believe I can make music for another 20 or 30 years, and I'm grateful to those who listen to it. I owe a lot to them, and I want to continue to improve my music so that one day I can repay my supporters. I've worked hard for 10 years to be able to say that with confidence, and I will continue to work hard because I have a reason to, so stay tuned!"

Visit kirararararararara.com or stqpkiraradongjae.bandcamp.com to listen.

Jamie Finn is chief editor of Platform Magazine.