Bridging The Gap: Koreanroc

As much as hip-hop is touted to be a movement of respect and unity, sometimes hip-hoppers can be the biggest dicks of all.

B-boys and b-girls are no exception. It’s getting to the point where there needs to be a special battle to see who’s the fastest at accusing others of being biters-or haters (Ah, the irony).

Some b-boys even have to ability to make the “biter” motion before the other dancer even steps into the cypher. Maybe it’s part of their battle mindsets that lead them to greet anything new to the scene with a wall of suspicion and immediate chips on their shoulders.

This decade’s classic example of initially-hated newcomers was, of course, the Koreans. They were easy targets. They admitted that they had their b-boy cherries popped by Korean boy bands. They hadn’t established an identity. They had technicality, critics said, but no soul.

Then, suddenly, things began to change. Those same Korean b-boys and b-girls retaliated by mastering b-boy foundation and everything it entailed. Most importantly, they did their homework.

In the same way that hip-hop seemed to transform from a passing street fad to a worldwide phenomenon overnight, South Korea went from being the weird kid in the corner of the cafeteria to being the cool guy that throws the legendary parties.

A lot of this can be attributed to the efforts of select groups in the Korean b-boy community. They’ve taken it upon themselves not just to understand b-boying as a physical dance but also as a cultural phenomenon with historical significance.

The poster child of this movement to reconnect the Korean b-boying scene with its origins is Koreanroc, the self-described “first b-boy portal site in Korea.”

“It is a place where we can spread the history and essence of Hip-Hop and a place where people can share their thoughts and ideas at the same time,” Jungth and others write collectively via an e-mail interview.

“Many people watching the fancy visuals don’t see this as a culture, not deeply taking interest in the real thing–we want to spread this culture throughout the people with an easy way for the public to understand and accept it in,” Jungth says. “Through Koreanroc, we often share with the people how to sustain and develop this culture into the future.”

Though the site-and its name-is most often noted for its contribution to the Korean scene, people visit from all over the world for Koreanroc’s gems. The site features shout-outs from respected dancers and genuine pioneers rather than just focusing on the latest flash-in-the-pan YouTube sensations.

A quick skim through the site reveals interviews from and information about Poe 1, Ken Swift, Ivan, Joe Conzo, JoJo, Trac 2, Icey Ice, Storm and more.

Though the Koreanroc guys don’t keep up with the site’s traffic, they say they have around 5,600 registered users.

And thanks to Koreanroc’s ever-increasing presence in the b-boy community, both online and offline, names and phrases like like “Koreanroc,” “Jungth” and “Chanyc” are becoming household names.

Koreanroc interviewing Alien Ness
But although Koreanroc has established its intent to explore and expose the history of b-boying, the light has rarely been shined on the history of Koreanroc itself.

The story goes that the site was launched on April 27, 2006 as a project among members Jungth, Chanyc and Reminiz with the support of Floor Gangz and Phoenix of Rivers Crew. The crew went on to expand to include members Lil J Fresh and Wired Roc.

The crew says those formative years were among the most difficult.

“The b-boying scene not only in Korea, but in the world back then was a boom,” Jungth says. “Naturally, people took interest in the essence of Hip-Hop and we felt that lots of people wanted to learn about the Hip-Hop culture-starting the website, we felt the responsibility that we should spread out the most uncovered truth.”

And so with the same ferocity with which a b-boy might train for a battle, Koreanroc used that pressure to throw itself into researching and sharing b-boy knowledge.

Which leads to a somewhat surprising revelation: not all of the members are b-boys.

Having completed his mandatory time in the army, Jungth is a college student with a passion for hip-hop and b-boying. Chanyc, who is current serving in the army, was a b-boy in middle school, but has now become one of the country’s foremost hip-hop photographers with ties to Max Crew. Wired Roc was also a middle school b-boy who received mentorship from Slick from the influential Skill on the Groove; Roc has now finished his time in the army and works in Japan.

Lil J and DFJ represent Koreanroc in the active b-boy circuit, with DFJ spending his time before the army working part times jobs and Lil J doubling up with a job and school.

Because they all live in different areas, the Koreanroc members only meet up in person once or twice a month at a jam to conduct interviews and shoot footage.
“Gang violence was something feared back in the days, but now the criticism people write down with their fingers is something that we fear.”
Otherwise, technology enables them to put in their hours from wherever they are.

“The places we live and what we do as a living are all different,” Jungth says. “We are all quite at a young age and most of us haven’t solved our army problems. We aren’t rushing anything. We are taking our time and building on our plans. It would be good to have an office, but we don’t need it bad. The Internet or our phones are enough for our offices for now.”

But what about making a living?

“Hip-Hop to us is a lifestyle,” Jungth explains. “The tiring life in this industrialized nation each day, Hip-Hop is our energy, an exit from some of our problems. Well, we aren’t wealthy, but in these times we get to know the real essence of Hip-Hop in our bones. It would be great if we saw some benefit from what we like, but I see that it would be something late in the future.”

That same optimistic attitude seems to resound throughout the remainder of the interview.

Koreanroc interviewing CloudMore than anything else, the guys from Koreanroc just seem really grateful to be allowed to be a part of what they’re doing.

The only thing that seems to dampen their spirits is the possibility that they may not be always successfully to pass along the joy that b-boy culture has given them.

Finding inspiration in the compliments they receive from fans and subjects alike, the Koreanroc guys seem like the sort of people who still get star-struck by “celebrities” in the b-boy scene, despite the fact that they’re almost celebrities themselves.

Perhaps it’s because they have committed to being perpetual students of the dance.

“We are the ones blessed for being one of the closest people to learn from the pioneers’ teachings and also having the chance of writing them down. We are probably the ones earning the most benefit out from Koreanroc,” Jungth says. “We are into working on putting all the ideas that each b-boy has commented on our site. This is how we could say that each soul of every b-boy we met lives in Koreanroc. Each word they said stays in our hearts and memories.”

If implementing the suggestions of every interviewee seems like a lofty goal, then consider that they also hope to lessen the hate on the Internet–the same sort of shit-talking that the Korean b-boy scene faced as it was blooming, just as Koreanroc is now.

Not surprisingly, Jungth acknowledges that the Internet has created the potential for greater unity among people by allowing people around the world to access information about b-boying’s moves, events, fashion, language, lifestyle, information and ideas.

Then again, he laments the fact that the b-boys more often use the Internet to make the community less unified by using their anonymity to start beef.

“Gang violence was something feared back in the days, but now the criticism people write down with their fingers is something that we fear,” he says. “Seen from many Web sites, the idea of good discussion more likely turns into chaos. Well, fixing this step by step is a plan of ours.”

But the Koreanroc camp is no stranger to adversity, and they still have plenty of dreams to push them along.

They dream of one day expanding Koreanroc’s offline ventures. Of providing a more intimate dance venue for local b-boys and DJs. Of being 30 or 40 years old one day, having their own office with jobs in a stable hip-hop scene. Of being known around the world-not for the fame, they claim, but so that more people could receive the gospel of hip-hop.

“During these three years, a short time, we have come to know more about this culture of Hip-Hop constantly,” Jungth says. “From one point, the people around us started telling us that what we are doing is a great big movement. All these words, to us, is our source of energy and an honor.”