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The Map of the Soul Really is A Map to the Soul
A possible theory on the best-selling album of 2020 (via IFPI), Map of the Soul: 7
By asic
Edited by Alice Fan and Liv K
DISCLAIMER: This article is a perspective of what I’ve taken the entire album and its references to mean. This, in no way, aims to push forward a certain way of interpretation. This is simply a written assimilation of my thoughts on the album Map of the Soul: 7.
“Intro: Persona” is an old school hip-hop track and samples the instrumental of one of their earlier, but just as good intros, “Intro: Skool Luv Affair.” To get technical, I'll say that “Intro: Persona“ is like Map Of the Soul: 7's history textbook. This song sets the tone of the album, not for the musicality of the album, but for the lyricism. The lyrics express confusion, not knowing if the person is a pig or a dog, or what else (in reference to a statement made by the head of Korea’s Ministry of Education’s policy bureau in 2016).
“Boy with Luv” is quite the contrast to the album’s darker colored tracks like “Louder than Bombs” and “Black Swan.” The track is candy-colored and dotted in pink and pastel. The Korean title for the song loosely translates to “A Poem for Small Things.'' This is good to note because every single lyric in the song feels like an ode, to learn and explore every single thing, no matter how frivolous or irrational it's deemed to be.
“Make It Right” is one of the most cohesive songs on this album. It expands on the before mentioned themes of understanding and attraction, while slowly but steadily carving a theme of its own. The tone of this song is nostalgic, reminiscing about the golden “old” times, the times when things felt all right, but now everything is a bit chaotic.
“Jamais Vu” means never seen, contrary to déjà vu which means already seen. Jamais vu is the experience of being unfamiliar with a person or situation that is actually very familiar. This could allude to their fear of not being able to perform again - performing music has been rooted in their veins, and not performing their music again is their jamais vu. This song talks about a remedy for that jamais vu. While “Make It Right” was them singing about the nostalgia of performing their music, “Jamais Vu” is about their fear, of them feeling unfamiliar with the sense of performing. So in a way, this song also brings weightage and expands on the lightly touched themes of “Make It Right.”
“Dionysus” is the name of the Greek god of wine. This song embraces eccentricism, and is an anthem about getting intoxicated; so intoxicated by art and being so deeply devoted to the tradition of making music and murdering verses, they're now ready for show.
“Interlude: Shadow” is much calmer compared to the hype song that is Dionysus. This song talks about the shadow, the light, and the darkness that appears as a result of getting so drunk on art, and being thirsty for every sip that goes down your throat. The journey for the “big house, big cars, and big rings'' in “No More Dream” (BTS, 2013) — they were aware of the repercussions, yet being the brave souls they are, they have chosen to undertake the eye-opening journey of becoming artists. Despite the millions of eyes peering upon and judging them and despite the fact that the shadow only grows darker in the blasting stark light.
“Black Swan” is where our entire storyline is ripped apart and brought back together, filled with all these mysterious references. The song expresses their fear of losing their passion and dying their “first death” (BTS, 2020a). This quest has been long, tiring and overwhelming. It's been so bad that they've lost sight of what actually matters: their passion. It's a beautiful, artistic cry for help.
The first death is a reference to Martha Graham’s quote: “A dancer dies twice—once when they stop dancing, and this first death is the more painful” (HYBE LABELS, 2020) a reference to more that might come. There’s an overwhelming feeling here, a time lapse where everything feels like eternity, none of the methods seem to work. Every note, every noise, every sound becomes filled with pain. Black swan is the seductive musical rendition of this pain.
“Filter” starts with a catchy guitar melody and plays the devil’s advocate. They say, "An idle mind is a devil's workshop." Well, Filter is the product of this imaginative idle mind. The lyrics of “Filter” play on the various definitions of the word “filter,” including Snapchat filters, stereotypes, and prejudices, and also “show a new side of [Jimin]” (BTS universe, 2020). The thickening, indescribable melody overcomes all the standard, binary emotions and overlays all of them into a “brand new filter” (BTS, 2020b). However, the suspense and meaning doesn't end yet.
“My Time” depicts Jungkook’s journey from the beginning of trainee life until now. The song starts with Jungkook noting when he couldn’t be with his friends and family because of his life as an idol, stuck in “airplane mode” and how he felt isolated from his peers as a teenager (BTS, 2020d). A little kid growing up, this song talks about the start of this particular journey. It's a comparison of the feelings before, or at the very start of the journey, to his life now this very moment; it's a compulsion, a forceful blaze of all those kept in feelings. He uses time zones as a way of conveying the changes in his perspective as a teen and as an adult. There's a bit of a search for a solution, but as the song processes in its own melodically attractive way, the only solution found is to wear your hat low and keep running, especially in those moments where you feel like you're gasping for air. The choreography and live version hit your heart very hard, so I'd suggest listening to this song very often.
At first listen, “Louder than Bombs” has a very exotic and vague feeling to it. The first part of the lyrics talk about harbouring a deep suffering, with “silent sadness” and “an unfamiliar shadow” (BTS, 2020c). This song goes a step ahead by acknowledging the fact that darkness exists everywhere, and even if the night swallows you up, you emerge from the ashes, and re-build once again. They seem to acknowledge that this deep sadness has harboured from the environments they've been put in. This has not been said as an excuse; it's a condemning fact. The deep pain, the sadness nobody else can relate to has been deemed as hypocrisy by everybody else; people feel envious and jealous, but do they really take some time to stop and think about all that has been done to actually get there? “Louder than Bombs” doesn't ask for an answer, and unlike Black Swan, it's not a cry for help. “Louder than Bombs” is the combination of contemporary adjective throwing, hitting to the face vibe, the vibe which spits facts.
"On" is an explosive climax of all the previous songs, coupled with a messy, dirty, bluntly bold, and truthful message: "Bring the pain on" (BTS, 2020e). This song expands on a theme in “Louder than Bombs” — "even if the night swallows you up, you emerge from the ashes, and re-build once again." Also, in this song, they've acknowledged the rut, the pain and darkness, which has been mentioned in both “Louder than Bombs” and “Interlude: Shadow,” and amplified to its highest in “Black Swan.” They now declare that they carried themselves into this beautiful prison. They first acknowledged the pain, then it's repercussions and side-effects, and now they gloriously and artistically fight it.
They acknowledge that getting up after being thrusted to the ground is something they've always been doing, only now it's magnified. They've proclaimed that now, in this new world, this acknowledged pleasure-pain filled, bitter-sweet prison, in this, they don't care about what the rest of the world says about them. This feeling is intensified, like really intensified in the bridge- they'll take a deep breath, and then let everything out — “[their] blood and tears”, “[their] everything” (BTS, 2020e) — and then they'll once again descend into the dark abyss.
“Find me and they'll bleed with ya.”
“UGH” is an explosion of glorious anger, Dionysus 2.0 — but this time, it's life-cutting, deep throated raps which are meant to maim and cause serious damage. It has an entering the boxing ring vibe to it, and this was confirmed in the online concert as well. It's pure rage against everything deemed as perfect — perfect ethics, perfect judgement — the crackle that's been burnt and swallowed up by the ember yet once again. There's the acknowledgement of rage, which is absolutely necessary if you plan on actually letting out the rage.
Suga, RM and j-hope diss those who looked down upon them, those who have the pre-imposed stigma on anybody who actually manages to rise up from the ashes, and stand like a glorious phoenix. They rage against the fact that it's deemed imperfect to rage, they artistically rage about the different reasons why they themselves, and people in general - why they all rage. After the glorious, fierce, fiery tournament has finished, and the one who's victorious has emerged — the sound of gunshots silences everyone who’d done them wrong.
“Zero O'Clock” is a melodic musing about the aftermath of the after-fact. After the glorious tournament, and the aesthetic splendour that lays in the boxing match, the feeling of sadness and emptiness. This song is artistic self consolation, the woodwork for the song, and the fact that life indeed goes on. “Zero O'Clock” is a scientific, factual relation to the world of hope. Everytime the clock strikes at 12 midnight - the past day automatically turns into a new one, the time molds into the past which then makes the present, which will then soon make the past. As the present molds into the past, as that process continues, it's essential to remember that you're going to be happy. That you're going to be absolutely fine, that things essentially, will work out.
The song tells you to hold your breath for a brief moment, and then pat yourself on your shoulder. This song reminds me of “Pied Piper”, but it’s a little more deep, and a little more grown up. This song is your reward, for you have been good.
The old version of today's “Inner Child” absolutely didn't believe in galaxies. The old, adamant, smiling child endured it all. The song is absolutely heart-wrenching and emotional, echoing a repeated passion to change. This is a message designed for the past self to seek hope, comfort and assurance in, that everything worked out well.
This song carries on the theme of “Zero O'Clock”. If “Zero O'Clock” represents the past, Inner Child is a musical message to the past — the singer's hug to the many thorns in the budding rose. It's about actually giving comfort to the person who once longed for it. It's about holding that hand when it's offered to you. It's hugely nostalgic, the cold sounds of the grey-lit streets, the hopeful knock at the door of opportunity. It's a solo extension of “Make It Right.”
They've made it right.
“Friends” musically capitalises on the nostalgia, and turns it into a cheery, cheesy palette of nostalgia and plain friendship. It's about that “Inner Child” — the one who lent you their hand, the one who gave you hope and light — no matter how bold or subtle they were. This is an anthem to the things that make you believe; it's a thanksgiving song.
You never fully understand each other, yet when the time calls, you both make it out together, forever. Your soulmate, the person who was there with you before the cheers, during the cheers, and will be there after the cheers as well. It's a heart-warming and truthful song. If “Friends” was a colour, it would be brown. Brown: the colour of dirt, the colour of staying, the colour which latches itself onto you and no matter how much you try to shake it off, it never goes. This is a thank you song dotted in the beautifully dirty shades of brown.
“Moon” is a blue and white song. Deep admiration, one-sided infatuation, love, likes, enjoyment — this is the song for it. This song builds up on the two-sided gratitude conveyed in "Friends" and musically, universally twists it (pun intended).
This song acknowledges and thanks the simple silence, the comfortable silence, the silence of just staying and reaching out - the comfort in it. It's an artistic juxtaposition of the Earth and the Moon; and the blue and white rendition of it. It talks about universally returning the favour, for being indebted and grateful - wondering what was ever done to deserve this. There's an overlay of baby pink conveyed in this song - this song is IT. It makes you come out from the black and white world, and actually see it in colours. Seeing it in hues of pink, blue, dark blue, indigo, green - it's the whole rainbow. I take back what I said about it just being blue and white. This song is universal (ok, I'll stop now).
“Respect” is all the shades of green — the green when you fall flat to the ground. While “Moon” took you to the universe and back, “Respect” gives you an unexpected ride. It violently drags you to the ground and cleanses you of all your sins and makes you see the light, it blinds you with its blunt honesty. The hoarse voices trigger your neurons, which in turn apologise for the mess created. Mutual respect is rendered as an action superior to love. This song could also be friendly banter with "Moon" where in one-sided admiration is conveyed, and that's caused due to the chain reaction of the other.
This song emphasises that no matter how varied your relationship with someone else is, respect is essential. It also talks about how there's no need for admiration when there's no respect. This song is also head-breakingly sarcastic, making the earth-shattering conclusion that English is hard.
What better way to make your fans forget about sarcasm than an emotional song?
“We are Bulletproof: The Eternal” is emotional. And purple.
This song is the type of song which makes you shed your tears at inappropriate places. It's an ode to “Louder Than Bombs” specifically, and to the rest of their discography. This song is the mom of BTS's discographies. It's a melodic acknowledgement of fight and fear, do or die, BTS and ARMY. It also opens up a brand new theme — why do you even support us? Why?
It opens up the theme of questioning and curiosity. It questions like a child, harmonises like nobody's business, and lyricises like grown-ups. This song celebrates the coming of spring. It celebrates the fresh, well earned coating of iron. It celebrates everyone who stood side by side during the storm. It acknowledges the battles coming with a brand new face. The themes and questions never end, but for now, we got to heaven.
“We are now going to progress to some steps which are a bit more difficult.
Ready. Set and Begin” (BTS, 2020f).
This song is what BTS would have sounded like had they made a rendition of one of their older rap songs. This song is a colourful ramble. It celebrates being free, being free of everything that held you back. It celebrates the success, the life of you and your “EGO” flashing by — the day and the night — both the sides of the coin. This song is a march past.
A march past which ends all the tracks but one, the march past which celebrates yet takes charge. The dance of victory, the walk of pride; it celebrates all of you. It celebrates the fact that all your questions have been answered and that your heart is free now. Despite it being sad and hard, the ending, the mountain conquered, more than made up for it.
Map of The Soul, the map RM spoke about in “Make it Right,” has officially been spread.
Lead Image: HYBE LABELS. (2020, February 21). BTS (방탄소년단) 'ON' Kinetic Manifesto Film : Come Prima. [Thumbnail]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwMa6gpoE9I.