Sanullim

Sanullim were the most important Korean rock band, and the influence they had on their country's artistic scene is hard to overstate.

In the second half of the Seventies they were essentially the only exponents of counterculture that the local music scene could offer. In 1975 the military regime led by Park Chung-hee had in fact clamped down on the rock scene, accused of promoting decadent Western culture, and on the folk scene, considered the epicenter of pro-democracy activism. By the end of the year, 223 local songs had been blacklisted, with an absolute ban on radio and TV broadcast and on sale of the respective records. Starting that December, moreover, any artist found in possession of marijuana began to be arrested (given the authoritarian methods and rampant corruption, it's quite possible that several of the victims weren't actually in possession of the substance): among the first were folk singers Yoon Hyung-joo and Lee Jang-hee, as well as Shin Jung-hyeon, the father of Korean rock, a successful singer, guitarist and producer.

In just over a year, 137 people linked to the entertainment industry were arrested: most of the detentions were brief, being symbolic and intimidatory acts, but the unluckiest ones underwent very harsh treatment (the aforementioned Shin was held for four months and tortured).

The real aim was to end the careers of troublesome artists, though arrest wasn't always necessary to achieve it. For instance, Han Dae-soo (a folk singer with an aggressive vocal style and a scruffy look, deemed a bad influence on the young) was ostracized to the point that he chose exile in the United States, while Cho Yong-pil was first hit with a heavy fine for drug possession and then forced into humiliating public apologies, which effectively put his career on hold (a few years later he would become the nation's most beloved singer, but that's another story).

Sanullim emerged in this context, with the music industry razed to the ground and reduced to just two genres: trot (a form of popular music listened to mainly in rural areas and by the less well-off social classes, the local equivalent of Japanese enka) and the anesthetized folk of artists willing to give up any form of social commentary.

The story begins in 1973, when the three brothers Kim Chang-wan (vocals, guitars and keyboards), Kim Chang-hoon (bass and backing vocals) and Kim Chang-ik (drums) – aged 19, 17 and 15 respectively – start playing at home, following the trend of amateur folk artists of the moment (despite the purges recounted above, Park had initially encouraged the movement, seen as a way to draw young people toward Korean culture, since trot was losing ground in their preferences in favor of Anglo-American music, but also French and Italian – Gianni Morandi didn't end up in “Parasite” by accident).

The band's initial name is Mui (무이), meaning “no difference”, and the early years spent between home and student circles prove particularly prolific, allowing them to build up a repertoire of 150 self-penned songs (mainly by Chang-wan, but some by Chang-hoon too). Music-making is seen as a hobby, and the three brothers stay dedicated to their studies, with excellent results besides.

However, in September 1977 something unexpected happens: the Mbc television network organizes the first edition of the University Song Festival (대학가요제) [note 1]. Mui try to take part, but are disqualified because Chang-wan has already graduated. However, their friends Sand Pebbles (샌드 페블즈) are also competing, with a song written for them by Chang-hoon, “Na eotteoghae” (“나 어떡해”, “What Should I Do?”).

The song wins the competition and becomes one of the hits of the year.

Once it emerges that the song comes from Mui's repertoire, the three brothers land a record deal with Srb Records (a label founded in 1975 that would go on to release many of Korean music's masterpieces). It's at this very point that they decide to change their name to Sanullim (산울림), meaning “mountain echo”, deemed more effective.

By the end of '77 their debut album, “Saenolae mo-eum” (“새노래 모음”, “Collection of New Songs”), is in stores. Audience success is immediate: although the melodies, certain sung refrains and the poetic approach to the lyrics still echo their past as a folk band, the record surprisingly unfolds a garage rock sound saturated with distortion.

The regime doesn't stop them: it limits itself to checking their lyrics, evidently believing that, after the clean sweep, the presence of a band with such a raw sound could prove useful to its own image, at least among the younger generation.

Given the results, the record label pushes the trio to record new material as soon as possible, and so in May 1978 “Je2jib” (“제2집”, “Second Album”, which can also be transliterated as “Jeijib” if one prefers to reflect the pronunciation of the number) comes out.

The cover shows a floral composition painted by Chang-wan himself, and it's anything but random: flowers are in fact central to the lyrics of eight of the ten tracks on the record, making it effectively a concept album.

As with the debut, "Je2jib" was also recorded on just two tracks, given the technical limitations of the local industry at the time. The result is a thin, flat sound that the trio tries to counterbalance by drenching the instruments in effects, as is evident from the opening track "Nae ma-eum-e judan-eul kkalgo" ("내 마음에 주단을 깔고", "Laying a Silk Carpet in My Heart"): the song has a long instrumental intro built on a hypnotic rhythm that recalls krautrock or post-punk (a wonderful example of creative convergence, given that at the time South Korea had no access to any releases belonging to those movements), while over the top the guitar writhes, drenched in fuzz.

The approach to the recording studio is fairly blunt: at 3'17" you can even hear the exact moment the fuzz is switched off, a kind of tearing sound after which the guitar suddenly turns clean, and finally, at 3'27", Chang-wan begins singing what turns out to be a love song. In a context of full-blown repression, opening a sentimental song with a wall of distortion lasting over three minutes could be considered a subversive act.

Chang-wan recalls bringing the album, fresh off the press, to the studios of the Cbs radio station, to have the track played on producer Kim Jin-sung's show, who however wasn't expecting such a long intro and was forced to cut it short before the vocals even came in, in order to make room for the commercial breaks.

Chang-wan's voice stands out for its clean tone, capable of reaching high notes when needed, while it's bolstered by Chang-hoon's voice in the chorus. With the fuzz gone, the arrangement is enriched by the sound of an electric organ (possibly a Farfisa, judging by the timbre), and the song turns out to be especially catchy: many radio stations would start playing it from the second half onward, but what truly struck record buyers was that chaotic intro, which went on to become a reference point for countless local rock bands in the decades that followed.

The following track, "Nolae bulleoyo" ("노래 불러요"), picks up the pace, and this time the Farfisa and the effects-laden guitar (with fuzz and phaser) are layered together, creating a relentless psychedelic din. The vocal part is essentially a nursery rhyme, as the lyrics themselves make clear:

Let's all sing together with joy,

let's lend our ear to the sound of this song,

let's not wake the stars that sleep peacefully,

let's sing beneath the light of the full moon.

Let's sing with enthusiasm,

just a little longer.

Let's all sing together with joy,

let's forget every sorrow,

when flowers bloom on this beautiful earth

a melody rises in the heart

On the delicate petals of the flower, blossomed in the cold mountain mist,

the morning dew glistens.

In the forest, the little mountain birds, as if telling ancient tales,

chirp noisily.

Oh, happy days

like that flower blossomed in the mist,

the fond memories shared between you and me

unfold like a rainbow

Let's stop the ticking of the clock and pull down the curtains,

let's put the night in a flower vase and spring in a birdcage,

the room filled with every possible thing

and the two of us together like this, just the two of us.

When your warm, gentle hand rests on my shoulder,

above the pale dust gathered like old stories,

if the sound of the guitar spreads out softly,

I feel your faint breath upon my ears

What will I do if you leave all of a sudden?

What will I do, will I live on having lost you?

What will I do if you leave me and go away?

It can't be, no, truly, don't go.

Was there a secret you kept hidden from someone?

You who were so affectionate,

you who were so kind,

how can you do such a thing?

I can't believe those words, [that say] that you're leaving,

I don't want to hear the word goodbye

It really seems that way,

you've gone, haven't you?

Without even telling me you'll come back,

you left me and went away.

Even in the night of crickets and wild geese in flight,

you truly sleep undisturbed.

Outside the window there is only the moonlight,

the heart wanders down the street at night,

the cold winter wind blows

gently gripping my collar

May our beloved one who is leaving go in peace,

the heart that lets her go feels like it could burst.

Eoya diiya, on the distant road our beautiful beloved travels,

may the white chrysanthemums bloom abundantly.

Eoya diiya, if you leave now, when will you come back?

That face that smiled so sweetly is gone forever.

Eoya diiya, is this a dream or is it reality?

A sudden thunderclap out of a clear sky, what does it all mean?

The album repeats the success of its predecessor, selling around half a million copies, and consolidates Sanullim's standing, though this is later put at risk by the follow-up "Je3jib" ("제3집", "Jesamjib"), released in November of that same year, which proved far too experimental for audiences at the time: suffice it to say that the entire second side is taken up by "Geudaeneun imi na" ("그대는 이미 나"), an 18-minute heavy psych suite. The trio would nonetheless bounce back without trouble, scoring several major hits throughout the Eighties.

Their recording career comes to an end in 1997, by which point times had changed radically and K-pop, in the modern sense of the term, had taken center stage, following the revolution brought about by Seo Taiji, already covered among OndaRock's milestones.

Any chance of a reunion is closed off for good on January 29, 2008, when Chang-ik dies in an accident: the two brothers can't bring themselves to revive the band without him.

What remains are the songs, which helped a generation get through a period that otherwise seemed hopeless, and which later, as testimony to this, appeared in many films about that era, from Lee Chang-dong's "Peppermint Candy" (1999) to Jang Hoon's "A Taxi Driver" (2017).

Today Chang-hoon lives in the United States, where he had already emigrated in 1984 and from where he would only return to promote the band's records.

Chang-wan, on the other hand, is one of the great icons of Korean culture, active on every front: besides being an author of books, a producer for other musicians, and one of the most sought-after actors (at least among those above a certain age), he continues to carry on the legacy of Sanullim with the Kim Chang-wan Band, backed by musicians young enough to be his grandchildren.

[note 1] The purpose of the program, meant to be held annually, was essentially to channel the creative efforts of folk singers from the university scene, so as to prevent the emergence of new militant factions. The operation would prove to be a huge success with the public, but it would not be enough to stop student unrest, which exploded in the 1980 protests, crushed in the infamous Gwangju massacre (though by then the military regime was no longer headed by Park, but by Chun Doo-hwan).

[note 2] The most famous example: in 1972 Park asked Shin Jung-hyeon for a song celebrating him, and the musician responded by recording "Aleumdaun gangsan" ("대한다울 강산", "Splendid Landscapes"), which described the country's natural beauty without any mention of the dictator. In hindsight, that episode can be identified as the moment the artist fell out of favor with the regime.

To find out more:

– Interview with Kim Chang-wan (Red Bull Music Academy)

– Sanullim (Namuwiki)

– “South Korean Popular Folk Music: The Genre That Defined 1970s Youth Culture” (Rosaleen Rhee)

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01/06/2025