Tiny AF Shows: SPIN AND GRIND’s small shows are having a big impact

Written by Matt Nolan (@mattnolan77)
Photos by Pedro (@nemocaet)
Profile photo by Jang Jiwon (@mobzine)

The air in Sinchon is barely holding back the oncoming Seoul humidity, but inside SPIN AND GRIND, a specific DIY energy is forming. Back in February, the skate and record store’s soft opening featured a four-band hardcore show. During the event, several of the store’s brand-new shelves were crushed. This left Victor Ha, the shop's mastermind, frontman for veteran outfit Things We Say, and the neighbourhood's resident subcultural lightning rod, with a smile on his face.

Naturally, he took a photo of the wreckage, turned it into a T-shirt design for his clothing line, Look Beyond, and then decided to do it all over again.

This is the birth of Tiny AF Shows, a hyper-intimate, zero-barrier live music experiment that is challenging the idea of traditional venues in Korea to capture lightning in a very small bottle.

To get a glimpse at the trajectory of Seoul's underground, you have to talk to Victor. He isn't just a spectator; he's part of the scene's foundational DNA. "I started going to underground punk and hardcore shows in Seoul in 2000," Victor says, in his shop that feels equal parts skate sanctuary and crate-digger's paradise.

For over two decades, he has watched the tide come in and out. Now, with SPIN AND GRIND, he's finally built the physical headquarters he always wanted: a skate-and-record shop that doubles as an underground community centre, akin to overseas institutions like Orange County's famous Programme Skate & Sound.

"Having a physical shop rooted in subculture is really important for a scene," Victor explains. "It gives people a place to naturally connect. I already see kids, musicians, and people from different scenes stopping by before or after shows to talk music, upcoming gigs, and ideas."

The concept of Tiny AF is an intentional mutation of NPR's beloved Tiny Desk Concerts. Victor had experimented with the format before, running the "Beyond The Desk" series at his previous shop in Cheonan. But Seoul is a different beast altogether — higher demand, hungrier crowds, and tighter spaces.

The "AF" modifier isn't just posturing; it's a spatial reality. "What makes Tiny AF unique is the intimacy and raw energy," says Victor. "There's no separation between the band and audience. It feels more like everyone is part of the experience together."

That intimacy was proven during the February trial run, where Canadian hardcore crew Desecrate alongside local bands threw down in what Victor calls "probably the loudest show in the neighbourhood." Miraculously, the cops never showed. The local kids, however, did - slamming and stage-diving off the counters.

The chaos solidified his vision, and on 13th June, Tiny AF officially launches its seasonal calendar with a heavyweight pairing: modern screamo torchbearers Palecistus opening for the legendary, atmospheric post-hardcore titans Hollow Jan.

Getting Hollow Jan, a band currently experiencing a massive, well-deserved resurgence in popularity, into a room the size of a walk-in closet sounds like a logistical nightmare, but Victor relies on the currency that matters most in the underground: respect.

"I've been friends with Kwangjae and Hwantaek since the 2000s," Victor says casually. "I told them about the concept, and they were into it." By pairing them with Palecistus, Victor is intentionally bridging the generation gap. "Palecistus plays a similar style, and I knew they had a lot of respect for Hollow Jan. I wanted to connect the older and newer generations through the show."

The launch of Tiny AF comes at a fascinating cultural crossroads. Globally, punk and hardcore are enjoying a massive, algorithm-fuelled renaissance. Victor sees the shift, but he isn't losing sleep over the mainstream gaze.

"Punk and hardcore were born underground, but now everyone has a smartphone," he notes. "The scene is much more visible… There will probably be more attempts to use punk and hardcore aesthetics in commercials and mainstream culture. But the core DIY spirit and sense of community won't change."

He pauses, offering the kind of stoic Victorism that only comes from twenty-six years in the Korean underground scene. "Even if this moment turns out to be a bubble, once it fades, the real ones will still remain."

That refusal to gatekeep or pander is precisely why the younger generation of Seoul musicians looks up to him, a dynamic Victor insists goes both ways. "I love seeing all the younger bands coming up. They inspire me. Sometimes younger bands get inspired by me and my band, and then they inspire me back. It feels like a full circle."

Ultimately, Tiny AF Shows and SPIN AND GRIND are a masterclass in the philosophy of Do-It-Yourself. In a city where real estate is king and venues are surprisingly sparse for a metropolis of ten million people, Victor's mantra is simple: stop waiting for permission.

"Whenever I play shows, I always tell people: start your own band. Don't just wait for your favourite bands to come through. Go to shows, make friends, and start something together. Don't wait for someone else to set the table for you. Build your own."

As for the future of Tiny AF? Victor wants it to become a bucket-list gig for independent artists worldwide. And if a touring band or a local punk outfit wants to get on the bill, the rules of engagement are refreshingly old-school.

"DM me or visit the shop — I prefer talking in person," Victor says. "Surprise me with your crazy ideas. Bring your imagination to life. I'm pretty open to anything if the energy and intention feel right."

For more information on SPIN AND GRIND, follow them on Instagram here.