[Official MV – Sedalbaekil – Passing Through Time]

Track 4 of the second full-length album <Stage>, Passing Through Time, was a house genre track frequently used in K-pop.

Externally, people called it a deep house song, but for the composer Han Sion, it wasn’t quite the same.

Sure, Passing Through Time followed the logic of deep house.

It laid down that sticky, dreamy texture in the background.

But the fun of the sound itself was far from typical deep house.

Sharp-sounding instruments were placed front and center, and the rhythm formed by the drums leaned more toward slap house than deep house.

Of course, they didn’t use slap house rhythm as-is—adjustments were made to fit the K-pop format.

So, if Han Sion had to categorize it, he’d say it was a mixed house genre blending slap house, tropical house, and deep house.

But that was just the composer’s intention, and average listeners like Choi Sehee simply accepted it as deep house.

Most people didn’t even think about the genre at all.

Also, for viewers like Choi Sehee watching Sedalbaekil’s MV on YouTube, the genre didn’t matter as much as something else.

That was…

‘Is this really the kind of song that gets a music video?’

It’s not that the song wasn’t good.

The song was excellent.

People who liked that signature house sound didn’t hesitate to pick Track 4 as the best on the album.

However.

‘Wasn’t this just a love song?’

That was the problem.

In Choi Sehee’s interpretation, Winter Cream had erased the existence of Iion.

Not just a matter of him not joining the trip, but a full erasure from the worldline.

Not complete amnesia—sometimes the members seemed to vaguely recall traces of Iion—but it was faint.

In that case, the next MV needed to give answers.

Why Iion disappeared from the timeline, and why the members forgot him.

It needed to be a drama-type MV.

But Passing Through Time didn’t feel like the kind of song for that.

The lyrics said, “After the time we spent together, we’ve become strangers, but I still miss you.”

Choi Sehee had doubts but focused on the MV nonetheless.

In terms of personal preference, Choi Sehee liked Iion the least among the Sedalbaekil members.

Not that she hated or rejected him—just lower in her ranking.

A friend she fangirled with said, “It’s because you know he’s out of reach and it makes you uncomfortable,” but Sehee didn’t feel that way.

Anyway, without Iion-colored rose-tinted glasses, Sehee could analyze the MV more objectively.

Especially the beginning, which was full of meaning.

A bewitching, wicked red light bubbled and boiled over the entire world.

Through that sinister red glow, a soft silver moonlight fell onto Iion’s face, and he, seemingly entranced, suddenly snapped awake in shock.

Then he looked at the members, whose images were fading as if they might vanish any moment, and shouted out:

[Focus!]

Focus…

Focus… Focus…

Iion’s voice, filled with reverb, echoed out like a cry.

As he looked up, three moons floated in the sky.

Choi Sehee already knew the line that came next.

[State of mind!]

That’s right.

The beginning of Passing Through Time started with a scene from State Of Mind—Sedalbaekil’s first ever music video, which crushed TakeScene with a whopping six teasers.

The original scene that followed showed Sedalbaekil members dropped into unknown worlds, escaping from separate realms.

Then coming together and taking off their masks.

Masks symbolized mistrust, and removing them meant trust.

Because in that world, people from different sides died if they took off their masks.

Each mask and realm had its own set of symbols that MV analysts had loved breaking down.

But this time, it was different.

As the camera, prompted by Iion’s cry to focus, turned toward the stage—

[…]

There was nothing left.

Only the sinister, wicked red light remained.

The moonlight that had helped them regain clarity had disappeared without a trace.

But the stage wasn’t completely empty.

Suddenly, the sound of men’s dress shoes clicked through the space, and someone appeared in the red light.

Hair slicked back, dressed sharply in a black suit—it was Iion.

“Ugh…”

Choi Sehee couldn’t stop herself from gasping.

She may be objective, but that deserves a gasp from anyone.

Still, it felt very unlike the usual Iion.

Normally, Iion had a straight-laced, upright feel, and fans loved associating him with the Cheonghakdong meme.

It wasn’t just a meme—he really was like that.

Everyone knew he was raised strictly in a family of educators.

But this Iion had a dangerous, razor-thin vibe instead.

‘That kind of aura… it’s more Sion’s style…’

Sehee thought so, but didn’t deny that it suited Iion too.

Thanks to the heavy eye makeup, Iion’s gaze looked deeper and more intense as he walked across the stage and stared silently at something on the floor.

It was a music box.

Suddenly, without touching it, the music box began to play.

♬♪♪♩♪♪~

It was the main melody of Passing Through Time.

Soft and smooth, like it was played on piano keys instead of the usual sharp-sounding instruments.

Then the world turned gray, with only Iion retaining color—his regretful eyes fixed on the music box.

A white hand entered the frame, and a woman picked up the box with a bright smile.

She handed it to someone, and Iion received it with a soft smile.

Gone was the suit—he wore a comfy polo shirt and jeans.

But the coloring still had a hint of gray.

‘Ah, a flashback.’

Thus began a flashback of Iion and the woman, set to the flowing song.

At first glance, it was slow and dreamy, but the main melody sparkled beneath.

It wasn’t sad or nostalgic, nor was it joyful or extravagant.

It felt like standing motionless somewhere between those things, and into that space came Goo Taehwan’s familiar intro:

[It’s all just a dream]

[After letting you pass me by]

The lyrics were different, but the beat and rhythm echoed the feeling of Separate from Masked Robber’s Side A.

This was why Sedalbaekil’s 2nd full album held extra meaning for fans who had followed the unit albums.

Like discovering buried treasure.

Then Onsaemiro’s voice followed:

[Pass through, this feeling]

[Pass through, that memory]

[Fiercely vivid]

The lyrics used wordplay on “passing through,” with its dual meanings of “letting go” and “moving beyond.”

Back in the 1st album, Han Sion didn’t assign many low-tone parts to Onsaemiro.

It wasn’t because Onsaemiro was bad at them—he had always sung well, in both high and low registers.

But within Sedalbaekil, low parts weren’t his strength.

Low and intro parts mostly went to Goo Taehwan, Iion, and Choi Jaeseong.

They had more strength in those areas.

But over time, their strengths blended.

Onsaemiro didn’t learn music from just Han Sion.

He picked up Goo Taehwan’s unique rhythm, practiced accurate expression with Iion, and understood how to produce “good sound” through Choi Jaeseong’s balance and his own innate talent.

So in the 2nd full album, there were no fixed roles anymore.

There were even tracks where Goo Taehwan didn’t take the intro.

Which meant Sedalbaekil had grown—and become more complete.

Han Sion worried that perfection might kill the members’ desire to improve, but fans didn’t see it that way.

They applauded.

-Wow, Sedalbaekil’s on another level now.

-Personally think they’ll be recorded in K-pop history forever.

-Two full-length albums in one year, and both are GOATs;

-And they’re selling like it’s the 90s all over againㅋㅋㅋ

-It’s funny, but when I loop the unit albums, I crave the 2nd album, and when I loop the 2nd album, I want to go back to the units.

-Real infinite cycle.

-Dormammu;

The MV’s comments alone showed the response.

But the one member who received the loudest applause for this second album was, without a doubt, Han Sion.

For overcoming the sophomore slump and putting out a better album than the first?

For reinterpreting various genres with sophisticated composition techniques?

For composing K-pop masterpieces with enough skill to be picked by Apple?

All true.

But the most fundamental reason was simple.

Because—

[From a distant time, over there]

[The time you sent]

[Orange Color]

He could sing.

When Choi Jaeseong won Snumbje, people clapped in surprise.

They hadn’t realized he sang that well.

When Onsaemiro became the 4-week Masked King on Masked Singer, beating out veteran singers and graduating with honor, people clapped again.

They thought he was good “for an idol,” but he was on a different level entirely.

When Masked Robber devoured Hongdae during Self-Made, and identities were revealed, people clapped.

Everyone thought Goo Taehwan was just an intro specialist, but he sang the high note.

Even Iion, previously considered the least skilled in Sedalbaekil, handled most of the intros.

And the song became a hit in the indie scene.

But Han Sion was different.

He had turned a failed WayFromFlower song into a masterpiece with Falling Flower, and brought Under the Streetlight—once only carried by its chorus—back to life.

So when Han Sion didn’t win Coming Up Next, people tilted their heads.

How did he not win with that level of skill?

Han Sion’s vocal ability was so clearly established that people barely mentioned it anymore.

Instead, they talked about his composition.

But in this second album, people started talking just as much about his voice.

-Wowwwwwww Han Sion is insaneㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

-Can Han Sion come on Masked Singer next? He’d totally win and graduateㅋㅋㅋ

The reason was simple.

Time had passed.

Han Sion had thought this the moment he regressed.

In his previous life, he’d been the vocalist of a band that sold 70 million physical albums.

But now, he wasn’t.

Vocal cords are muscles that require training, and tone takes time to fine-tune.

Give it one year, and he could start making sounds he liked. Two years, and he could hit his peak again.

And now one year had passed.

He was finally starting to make the sound he wanted.

And if another year passed?

He’d return to the vocal skill level that sold 70 million albums with physicals alone.

That progress was finally starting to show.


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