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Written by Arang (@arang8_)
Born in Seoul, EJae lived in Jeonju, known as Korea’s food capital, until she was five, then moved to Seoul. A childhood spent playing instruments with her older brother naturally led her to a life immersed in music. Making music, playing and singing, writing lyrics and drawing are still both play and a way of life. She released the EP Now Trash in 2021, followed by the EP 2jae2jip in 2024 and the full-length album Purple Trip in May 2026. She is currently a member of LEENALCHI and has also played in bands including Hyodo and BASS and numnum.
To start, could you introduce yourself?
It's nice to meet you. I make my own music under the name EJae, and I also play bass in LEENALCHI. My routine in Korea has been to go to bed before midnight, wake up at seven, and either exercise or take my dog Hullyung for a walk. I spent a long time without a routine while preparing and promoting my solo album. Going overseas broke all my routines, and I felt that pleasure again at the same time. Now I'm back in debt to my body because of it.
What were the moments overseas when breaking all your routines felt good?
In a way, a routine is a small compulsion. I think some pleasure comes from throwing myself into a setting where that compulsion no longer works. Not exercising, eating lots of unhealthy cup noodles, drinking a lot with the band…
Is there anyone you're especially grateful to?
My husband (Hukky Shibaseki), I suppose? Looking back, I spent almost all of my musical life in my twenties with him. I never imagined he'd end up becoming my husband, though…
Hearing that naturally brings to mind Magic Kit from Purple Trip. You've described it as a song that lovingly captures the two of you making music. In the lyrics, you compare that process to ‘knitting’ and ‘cooking with unusual ingredients’. How did those two images come to you?
They were comparisons my husband made about seven years ago, when we were talking about making music. He said I make music by adding things on, as if I were knitting, while he makes it by mixing unusual ingredients together. That resonated with me so much that I wrote it down in a notebook. While working on this album, I started looking through my old notebooks, and his comparisons became the lyrics to Magic Kit.
That’s romantic. I also love Lee Neung Ryong’s guitar playing on it; it’s my personal favourite on this album. What was it like making this full-length record? In the years since that conversation, you’ve released two EPs. Has anything changed in your creative process or the way you think about it?
I think I'm still knitting with whatever materials I happen to have at hand. I've spent most of my life in bands, and I was someone who'd never even considered a solo album. But whenever pressures like hurt or anger build up in my life, another solo album seems to come out of them. Paradoxically, that's how it happens. As I try to work through those feelings, they take the form of an album. Of those records, 2jae2jip, which I made with Yoonkee, is the only one that came from a place without any pressure. It was a very meditative process for me.
Has the way you deal with pressure and turmoil changed, then? Debaser Magazine previously described Now Trash as a blend of post-punk and other styles rooted in new wave. On this album, the chiptune sounds and conversational vocals stand out more.
The way I deal with turmoil is the same. But I'm naturally influenced by the music I'm listening to at the time and the people I'm making music with. I worked with Hukky Shibaseki on Now Trash, Yoonkee Kim on 2jae2jip, and Jang Younggyu on Purple Trip. The people around me now aren't here by chance. I think we all become collaborators because something draws us together.
Genre doesn't really matter to me. I think what listeners hear as distinctions of genre is really a question of ‘who I worked with and what we shared’. And amid turmoil such as anger and sadness, love, healing and freedom are easy to find. Personally, I feel there's also a kind of regression mixed into this album. It feels as though it was made by an adult who has returned to childhood: someone who is neither an adult nor a child, or perhaps both.
Did you find freedom in that turmoil?
Yes. One writer told me that, in the Korean words ‘자유로워’ (“I’m free”) written in the Purple Trip storybook, they could almost see ‘죽고 싶어’ (“I want to die”). Turmoil is a fear of death. Freedom does not fear death.
Are there any songs you would especially like someone who has been hurt to hear?
I was the first to find comfort in these songs as I made them: In The Arms of Love from Now Trash, Postbox from 2jae2jip, and Damaged and Little Planet Earth (feat. Guardian Angel) from Purple Trip.
“Besides me, there are many angels in your life.”
— From the lyrics of Little Planet Earth (feat. Guardian Angel)
What was it like working with Jang Younggyu as a producer? Did you discover a different side of him, or strengths you hadn’t noticed when working with him as LEENALCHI’s leader and bassist? Were there any songs or problems that his experience helped you work through?
Working together in LEENALCHI, we had already been getting to know each other’s tastes naturally, and we both admitted that Stereolab was our favourite band. This time, I also wanted to move a little away from a garage-band sound. Rather than music you would headbang to, I wanted to try something danceable that you could gently move along to. Jang Younggyu played a decisive role in creating that sound.
Especially on the tracks Purple Trip and Hominini. It was so hard to get away from the rock versions I had sketched out. But the moment he got his hands on them, this bold sound opened up: something I had wanted, but hadn’t been able to achieve on my own. Bringing in Trippers, who perform with me now, was his idea too. Performing with three backing singers has been the best decision.
For readers who haven’t met Trippers yet, could you introduce them and tell us how they came on board? At the 2026 Block Party show, even the audience naturally joined in the repeated movements to Magic Kit. It certainly seemed like the best decision for them too.
After the first album-release showcase, I naturally started thinking about playing the next show with a band. But the music seemed to call for a lot of rearranging, and I couldn’t really picture how we would play it. Then Jang Younggyu pointed out that one of the album’s defining features was its many vocal layers, and suggested putting on the shows with backing singers. I thought that could make for a fun show
For me, it was less about finding great singers than about being with souls who hadn’t lost their innocence. So I got in touch with my high school teacher for the first time in over ten years and asked whether any current students or graduates might want to join me. My teacher’s recommendations brought together the current members of Trippers. I think the movements they came up with naturally during rehearsals helped them connect with the audience. I really do think performing with Trippers was the best decision. Being onstage with these women is so much fun that I hope I never have to stand onstage alone again.
Hearing this brings to mind the author’s biography in the storybook album that Trippers are holding open in the photo. Looking back as an adult, what do you feel you and your older brother were sharing when you played music together as children? Are there any memories you feel particularly drawn to?
I don’t know whether a lot of younger siblings are like this, but when I was little, everything my older brother did looked fun. I was always saying, “I want to try too!” and following along. The Seo Taiji music he played for me, the bass guitar he bought, even the comics he read. We played together, listening, making music and reading.
Through that time together, I naturally learned how much fun it is to share the things I love with someone else. Maybe that’s why I’ve always enjoyed being in bands. And now that I’m making and performing solo albums, which I never planned to do, I’m finding a different kind of joy. Just as my brother shared his world with me when I was little, there’s a special pleasure now in sharing mine with the people who enjoy my music.
A journey that began with hurt, turmoil and thoughts of death has led you back to the note you made after a conversation with your husband seven years ago, to contacting your high school teacher after more than a decade, and to remembering childhood days playing with your brother. Now you’re meeting audiences alongside these innocent travellers. After this journey back through time, how does your daily routine of starting the day with a walk with Hullyung feel?
This question heals me once again. It reminds me, again, that this is the kind of process I wanted when I made the album. After travelling back through time, Hullyung looks even cuter to me. Hullyung is getting older too, and the fur around the face is turning white, but that only makes Hullyung cuter. I see everything anew, and find myself looking at all these lovely faces.
I’ve learned that rules, those little compulsions, help soothe the pain that comes after pleasure. I’ll go back to a life with a routine, and then I’ll probably get absorbed in making something, or go on tour. In a way, everyday routines are what nourish me enough to bear both pleasure and pain.