CLC (short for “Crystal Clear”) was formed in by Cube Entertainment, the same company that formed 4Minute, BTOB, and (G)I-DLE. They debuted in 2015 with five members: Yeeun, Sorn, Seunghee, Seungyeon, and Yujin, adding Eunbin and Elkie the next year. They’re technically still together, though they

Here are my credentials: So, I’m a Neverland, or a (G)I-DLE fan (read about that here), which has meant I’ve long heard about CLC second-hand through the members’ friendships with (G)I-DLE, especially Shuhua and Elkie and Minnie and Sorn. I’m also a fan of Sorn’s solo career, which I’d like to cover on its own one day. Now, CLC is approaching their tenth anniversary, so I wanted to cover them and give them the attention they rarely get and definitely deserve. Let’s get into it!

EP #1: First Love

Pepe, to be frank, wasn’t at all the kind of intro I was expecting from CLC, being more familiar with their girl crush concepts. It’s poppy as hell but I can’t accuse it of being toothless when it’s delivered with such confidence. The verses bop along with a hefty dose of funk. I’m not usually the biggest fan of vocalized hooks, but I think it works quite well as a post-chorus here with a heftier one to fall back on. I think the best way to despite it is colorful, very bubbly but still tempered, toeing the over-aegyo line in a similar way to how Red Velvet did around the same year. It’s very much of its time—the tennis skirts, the bouncy dance moves, the cutesiness—but as this style goes, it’s pretty good.

From the EP, I enjoyed the very smooth 2nd gen feel of Cafe Mocha Please, the slight doo-wop influences in Sharala, and the laid-back sing-talk in Opening The Window. Like Pepe, it wasn’t what I expected, but it was still quite good.

EP #2: Question

Like Pepe, Like is mainly poppy and fairly typical for the time it was released, but has these little flourishes and bursts of character, both in ad-libs and brassy interpolations. It’s a bit too bubblegum and cloying for me, to be honest, but it’s definitely not a bad song, and the MV, as overwhelming on the eyes as it is, gave me a few laughs. I like the bridge too; it was probably my favorite part, especially in the way it bled into the final chorus. It’s interesting, because I can definitely tell that Like and Pepe were made by the same artist, but if I’d been asked to guess who, CLC would never cross my mind. The more you know, I suppose.

From the EP, I enjoyed the sunny, off-kilter Hey-Yo, the bubbliness of Lucky (my hidden gem), and the light-footed synths of Hide And Seek. This EP reminds me so much of Red Velvet’s Russian Roulette, both sonically and titles-wise. Lucky like Lucky Boy, the “hey boy” in Hide and Seek like Light Me Up, so on and so forth. It’s interesting.

EP #3: Refresh

High Heels, CLC’s first comeback as seven, stomps along at a brisk clip from the first jazzy note, with a midcentury sensibility that’s a great fit for CLC’s vocals. The brassiness and pops of funk that have been present since the beginning are in full force here, tempering the bubblegum that got on my nerves a bit in Like. Though I know we’re pretty early in their career, it feels like the pinnacle of this sound. My one real gripe is that I wish the bridge was a little more seamless in its transition to the final chorus, but as gripes go, it’s fairly minor, and this is definitely my favorite title so far. The more I listen to it, the more it grows on me, and I find myself shoulder-shaking along to the hook whenever it comes up on shuffle.

Quick funny story: I was actually at my parents’ house when watching the music video, and thus commandeered their living room television for an hour to do this review. (Thanks guys). So my mother walked in when the High Heels’ music video was playing, promptly said, “Nope” and returned to her morning tea. She’s more of a Super Junior person, I suppose. (Read about that here)

From the EP, I enjoyed Refresh, which reminded me of Lee Youngji’s Small Girl (a personal favorite). Despite this single being one of my favorites, the mini-album wasn’t; I found Yaya and Friend Lover Zone’s hooks cloying and irritating in a way their sides weren’t before.

EP #4: Nu.Clear

(CW for next two paragraphs: brief discussion of sexual harassment, nothing explicit)

No Oh Oh bounces along with a sound that feels distinctly younger than the singles before it, punctuated with wolf-wishes and a tambourine sound and the recurring shouts of “STOP!” It’s a fairly strong song, there’s no doubt, and it works just as a casual listen to strut along the street or dance in your living room to (no comment on that). So, I was ready to just give it a shrug and move on, but then I read the lyrics, which were actually written by the late Shinsadong Tiger, who’s more known for writing for EXID, T-ara, and Tri.Be.

Both surprising for the time—and unfortunately still now–they deal with unwanted sexual harassment, with phrases like “Just because I wear tight pants and have light hair, do I seem old?” and “I’m too young for this, I’ll tell my mother”. I’m of two minds about them, honestly. How much impact do they have when contained in such a cutesy, easily dismissible package? If I hadn’t looked at the lyrics, I would never have even guessed what they actually said from the MV, which makes it a somewhat queasy watch. As I said, I still haven’t decided where I land on this song, but let me know what you think.

From the EP, I enjoyed the instrumental hook of What Planet Are You From, the hazy, sunny feel of One Two Three, and the great vocals of It’s Too Late. While the Question EP reminded me heavily of Red Velvet’s Russian Roulette, this one reminds me just as much of Gfriend’s Season of Glass, the song One Two Three especially. It’s in the twinkling instrumentals, the very high cutesy vocals, and even the bursting harmonies in the final choruses. I’m not sure if I’m reading too much into it, since they were active around the same time, but I can’t help but feel that this doesn’t feel as unique.

EP #5: Crystyle

Hobgoblin was one of the first songs I heard from CLC, which is why I was so unbelievably confused when listening to the other EPs and title tracks. As far as 180s in kpop go, there’s really very few as striking as this one. Where before the songs were primarily pop with hints of funk and synth, this song is sing-talk heavy and brash to a fault. It’s one of those songs that you honestly don’t know if you like it for at least five listens. It’s got to be ten since the first time now and my opinion still feels half-formed. Maybe a good way to put it is that it’s a very good song for jumping on a treadmill and sprinting for a minute, but a terrible song if you’re in any situation completely unprepared for your ears to bleed. I’m sorry, really, but god, so much of the song just gets on my nerves, pushing a bright red button in my brain when I’m in a bad mood. So, it’s an out-and-out skip from me, I’m afraid.

“Jesus, how long is this song?” my mom yelled from the other room. I called back, “Too long!” “I think they were going for catchy,” she said. “They didn’t achieve it.”

From the EP, I enjoyed the off-the-cuff, trop-pop driven Liar, and the excellent vocals of Depression (not the best name choice, though it was my hidden gem). Mostly, though, the mini-album wasn’t for me.

Next time, we’re onto Part 2. Tschüss!